Lakshmi and I went to the Milwaukee Irish Fest over the weekend. During the hour and a half drive, I salivated, daydreamed and mused to Lakshmi about the sheer grandness of drinking a pint of Guinness while watching Irish bands tear up a stage. We arrived and scored some pretty good three dollar parking one mile from Miller Park and as we got closer, I could smell roasting corn, cabbage, corned beef, and that yeasty, spilled beer stench. I was in heaven, but it wouldn't take long for me to fall to the hell that is an Irish Fest with NO GUINNESS.
I went to the very first "pub" tent I could find and requested a Guinness, my pupils dialated and my tastebuds throbbing like a Tartakovsky animation. The "pub" owners informed me that they had no Guinness, but they did have Miller products like FRIGGIN MILLER HIGH LIFE. I laughed in the guy's face and moved on. Lakshmi pointed out to me that she hadn't seen a single Guinness sign since we got there, and that the Irish Fest logo was a blatent rip-off of the Guinness logo:
The next "pub" told me the same as the first and by the time I reached the fourth, I was in near panic. I could feel the skin crawling away from my throat as my adam's apple heaved like it was going to shatter my jaw. It was at this fourth "pub" that a Miller rep was helping with some kegs. When I asked for a Guinness, he told me that there would be only Miller products in Miller park. There was not a single drop of Irish beer in the whole place. I almost choked the guy. Of course, I did notice that bands were the only groups of people allowed to bring in their own coolers, and that one backstage view showed them to be drinking something darkly ambrosial from pint glasses. Friggen Miller.
Well, my next task was to have a some good corned beef, and since I wasn't interested in paying TWELVE DOLLARS for a friggen beef and cabbage plate- I bought a corned beef sandwich. Unfortunately, it wasn't shaved corned beef. The corned beef in that sandwich looked like it came straight out of an Oscar Meyer "Deli Selects" package and tasted more like ham than beef. Nevermind that Lakshmi had a tasty baked potato that was loaded with sour cream, chives, and butter and was bigger than my fist.
The selection of Irish bands was quite awesome; although, I found out that Miller and its other sponsers had requested "family friendly" music and stage chatter. Fortunately, this must have been an implied request, since barely a band obeyed the request. Every band we saw, especially the Garrison Brothers (hats off, guys) was so good that we nearly wet ourselves with excitement (except for one vomitous band which played contemporary Irish pop to traditional Irish stylings- U2 on boudran and tin whistle- horrifying).
The other interesting thing we found was a geneology tent- a map inside helped Lakshmi and I pinpoint my father's side of the family to a clan O'Finnaurghty in county Kerry.
Ah... Irish Fest... may you live long and be taken over by a brewery that will honor you with real beer. May you be catered by those who know what real food is. May the sun be on your face, the wind at your back and never up your kilt.
Slainte!