

Some examples may just be given a coat of black paint. A further coat of special soot finish may be applied, or a mixture of black lead and grease rubbed on with woolen cloth to a polishing finish. īoth of the previous methods would be finished with oils or sealants, etc. The stick may require protection from its dung bath by being wrapped in well-greased oiled brown paper (steeped in hog's lard or oil).

The less frequent methods were to bury the shank in a dung pile, or in slaked lime. Most commonly, the chosen wood would be placed up a chimney to cure for a duration of several months to several years the accumulated layer of soot gave the shillelagh its typical black shiny appearance.
Shillelagh drink crack#
Wood from the root was prized since this would be used for the knob, and was less prone to crack or break during use. With the scarcity of oak in Ireland the term came increasingly to denote a blackthorn stick, and indeed blackthorn stick is sometimes glossed as equivalent to shillelagh. Shillelaghs are traditionally made from blackthorn (sloe) wood ( Prunus spinosa) or oak. The geographic name Shillelagh derives from Síol Éalaigh, or "Descendants of Éalach" in English. Īs an alternate etymology, Anna Maria Hall and Patrick Weston Joyce have written that the name may have derived from the wood being sourced from forest land in the village or barony of Shillelagh, County Wicklow. As invigorating as a cold shower, it tasted fresh and clean as a whistle.The name shillelagh is the Hiberno-English corruption of the Irish (Gaelic) form sail éille, where sail means "willow" or "cudgel" and éille is genitive for iall meaning "thong", "strap", "leash", and "string", among others. After convincing the distraught bartendress that she'd done nothing wrong, we enjoyed a shot of the house drink (and the house drink at many Irish bars across the country): Shillelagh ($4, $3 on Friday and Saturday), made with Jameson Irish Whiskey and Baileys Original Irish Cream. Invented in the late nineteenth century, the snug was designed for patrons who preferred not to be seen at a public bar, such as well-off gentlemen, proper ladies, priests, police officers, public officials, lovers seeking a surreptitious location or the occasional stinky guy. The obvious question: Then whose fault was it? Rather than offend people in the bar, perhaps he should have made use of the Irish Snug's namesake - a small, private room, or snug, that allows you to sit in relative anonymity and have cocktails without the outside world's condemnation. "I know I may smell, but that's not my fault," he said. It was the rambling, somewhat incoherent, smelly man calling from a pay phone down the street to complain to the manager about the service he'd received. I was apologizing to the bartendress for driving off her clientele, however stinky, when the phone rang.

That's when his repulsive aroma whacked me upside the head like a prizefighter's knockout punch. "I'm sorry, was this seat taken?" I asked, and he mumbled something inaudible and walked to the door. Bring out the Irish Spring! As my date and I sat down at the bar at the Irish Snug, a guy next to me gave me a dirty look.
