With no hesitance, I may say that I return to restaurants for the food. If the food leaves even a slight inscription, I most likely shall return.
At times, however, the inner markings of an establishment, in conjunction with the distinct quality of the food served, also leaves more than a slight inscription on my palette of memories. At times, the mere act of entering an establishment, sitting, and staying seated, has significance that surpasses any level of deliciousness, and exponentially multiplies the joys of dining.
This is why I find myself repeatedly returning to Eamonn’s in Alexandria, VA.
The beer-battered, deep fried cod is a popular classic, the grouper is also fantastic, and my favorite, the ray, literally evaporates on your tongue, bones and all. Eamonn’s fish and chips are superb, but here I focus on its innards.
The innards of Eamonn’s – classic, rustic, new, old, discombobulated, random. Everything you’d want in a chipper. As with many old Alexandria shops, the original brick walls are still in tact, serving as the base of everything that goes on it, in front of it and above it. The dark brown wood frames seem almost as old as the bricks themselves, the chipped crimson hue and the wood creating an overall rich, dark setting.
This darkness is balanced with the somewhat out of place chandeliers and “stained” glass on one side of the wall. The warm yellow lights slowly ooze from the candle-like fixtures, creeping through the Guinness and oil permeated air. The lighting, both man-made and natural, convert the “darkness” to “warmth,” a temperature of the mind that calls upon relaxation and a desire to stay.
As with great pieces of art or fashion ensembles, there are splashes of vibrant color throughout the establishment. Purple, green, and red from the displayed Maltesers and other candies, the not -so-subtle, forest green Guinness balloon, and the sexy fish on the wall, swimming in a sea of mustard yellow.
“Thanks be to Cod.” Yes, and Thanks be to the Capital E.
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