When Pat got home from work yesterday, I was a little crazed from a day of wedding checklist activities, and so while we did not theoretically have time to spare for an evening out, we went out anyway. We walked in the direction of Stone St. and ended up in Ulysses, in the Financial District.
The fish aspect of my fish and chips was bland, but the chips aspect was right on the money: crispy, tasty. Pat had the "soft" lobster roll that left us still wondering what made it particularly soft. It too came with the satisfying fries but the sandwich itself featured a lot of filler, and too much dill for my taste. My St. Boltoph Town Brown Ale washed it all down nicely.
Ulysses' atmosphere was fine. It was sort of standardly tavern-like. Pat looked at the old lyrics sheets for Irish drinking songs adorning the walls and said he wished he and his friends had had those back in the day when they would knock back drinks and disturb other patrons with half-remembered verses about "spending all my tin on the ladies" etc.
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