Apparently Boxers British Pub in New York City is gone now. According to an internet search, the only place in New York called Boxers these days is a gay sports bar. The place I used to go to with that name had a somewhat different theme.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Boxers was a cool British pub in lower Manhattan, not far from my old apartment. It had the requisite old world charm, a wide selection of heavy ales, and crowd of regular old blokes who were happy to explain that Beefeater was the standard by which all gins were measured. It also had some interesting little quirks, like hard boiled eggs on the bar as freebie snacks, instead of nuts or chips. I had never heard of eggs as a bar snack, but I quickly learned that they make a good pairing with a pint or two …. or seven.
That’s probably was prompted me to try another snack off their appetizer menu, Scotch Eggs. If you’ve never had them before, you’ve been missing out. Hard boiled eggs, wrapped in a layer of pork sausage, and then breaded & deep fried. I know it sounds like a breakfast dish, but it goes really well with beer. Ever since those days at Boxers, I’d order them whenever I saw them on the menu in any of the multitude of pubs I’ve visited.
Now it’s not like I’m the type to frequent such establishments. Heaven forbid. But someone has to look after my buddy Jim, who has a habit of tipping a pint or two, telling a tall tale or two, starting a fight or two, and picking up a transvestite hooker or two. If it was up to me, I’d be at bible study, or pottery class, or whatever the fuck it is that people who don’t drink do with their time.
It seems I’ve once again ventured into one of my digressions. I really must stop that. Continue ReadingRead More »