We’ve ordered shepherd’s pie and bangers and mash and oh my God I’d better not get gout from this

In Harrisburg, North Carolina, there’s an Irish pub called Flanagan’s On Main. No one else I know has eaten there, as best I can tell. The evening my family went, there were only two other customers, on a summer weeknight, and they were both at the bar drinking and not eating.

The Co-Pilot and I were aware of the place because we often have business in Harrisburg, and our favorite local Mexican place is nearby, but we’d never actually tried it.

When we approached the door, we noticed a taped-up sign, printed in 32-point all-caps Times New Roman. I didn’t take a picture, so this is paraphrased from memory, but it said, “We’re under new ownership! We understand that previous ownership didn’t treat patrons very well, and we’re dedicated to winning back your business!”

Huh.

No matter. We’re not really feeling Mexican, and we’re already here, so let’s give it a shot, we figured.

The menu has American pub food — burgers, nachos, et cetera — but I perked up when I noticed Irish Cream Chicken among the entrees. That’s different! And then we saw the “Traditional Irish Fares” section.

I’m a sucker for shepherd’s pie. Done right, it’s one of those dishes that feels like it should overwhelm you with oily fatty meatiness, but doesn’t because potatoes and vegetables provide necessary ballast — even though, of course, there’s a ton of meat in the dish.

So of course I couldn’t resist and ordered the shepherd’s pie, while the Co-Pilot ordered the bangers and mash pictured above.

Color us impressed. The sausages were cooked just right, with a satisfying snap to the casing. The mashed potatoes, themselves, weren’t all that special — I prefer chunky mashed potatoes, while the stuff we got was pretty close to whipped — but the gravy and generous helping of onions was spot-on.

The shepherd’s pie presented a similar experience. It would have been nice had it been, you know, a pie, instead of ground meat, vegetables, and a scoop of mashed potatoes. However, the mix of beef and lamb was rich without a greasy sensation, perhaps because the big chunks of carrots brought relief in both texture and, in concert with the peas, a touch of sweetness. As with the bangers and mash, the potatoes were a’ight, and just cleared the bar of not detracting from the dish.

I polished off the shepherd’s pie, and the Co-Pilot (wisely) decided she only needed one sausage and a few bites of potato for her dinner.

On the one hand, it wasn’t the kind of dinner I would strongly recommend to anyone in the Charlotte area. On the other, it made us happy! There’s a reasonably-priced, solidly competent Irish pub nearby! Obviously, we can’t eat there often, given that just about everything on the menu is an indulgence for anyone who’s not, you know, earning his keep with 13-hour days of manual labor.

I wasn’t kidding about the gout: I’ve suffered attacks before after eating too much rich food, and I did think about it while considering which meal to get. But in the end… shepherd’s pie, man. It’s almost always just too good to pass up.