Mama Dolan serves up the ham and cabbage.
It’s a bar. A big, rectangular wooden bar with barely enough room to fit drinkers two deep around it. On St. Patrick’s Day, Dolan’s Bar, in the little borough of Ridley Park, is so crowded that if someone at the front of the bar orders one of Momma D’s buck-fifty cabbage and ham platters, the waitress has to go out the back door and come in the front to deliver it.
Oh, and Momma D’s cabbage and ham platters are worth the outdoor trek. She cooks the cabbage and the potatoes on a layer of cabbage leaves and ham rind that turns the cabbage dark and sweet and the potatoes moist and smoky. The aroma alone is transporting.
This is the place where you want to spend St. Patrick’s Day. Founded in the mid-40s by Irish immigrant Patrick Dolan, the bar, which moved to the small town (population 7,200) in 1954, passed down to his son Pat (Poppa D), and five years ago to Pat’s son Pat (called P.J.), who honed his cooking skills in Kinsale, Ireland.
But it’s Momma D—Irma—who still reigns in the kitchen on St. Patrick’s Day. “I’ve been making my ham and cabbage for more than 30 years,” she says, loading a plate with a quarter head of cabbage, three potatoes, and two thick slices of ham in the bar kitchen, which is so small that one person is a crowd.
At one time, Irma recalls, the bar didn’t have a kitchen. “They had one next door and when someone wanted food we would call over on an intercom,” she chuckles. Because Dolan’s operates on a state restaurant license, by law, the bar has to have enough food on hand for 32 people, she says. In the early days, her father-in-law kept to the letter by stocking 32 cans of soup. Then Irma began to cook. On St. Paddy’s, she may go through two crates of cabbage, 50 pounds of potatoes and 70 pounds of ham.
“This is really what it’s all about,” says Ridley Park Mayor Hank Ebersole, who came into the bar decorated like parade float with a glittery green hat and green crepe paper taped to his jacket. “This is a bar. I mean, a bar-bar, where people come to drink and talk.”
Like Tom Benson and Tim France. Benson is a Ridley Park lifer who inherited Dolan’s from his father. “My Dad used to drink here, then I did,” he says. “In fact, my whole family drinks here.” Tim France, a Ridley Parker who now lives in Yardley, Bucks County, also has Dolan’s in his genes. “This is where my Dad drank too,” he says. “We look at Dolan’s as something like ‘Cheers,’” says Benson. “When you come in here day or night, you’ll know someone.”
In fact, every time the front door swung open, sending a blast of sunlight into the dark, smoky bar, a cheer went up as though Norm was showing up every few minutes.
Dolan’s isn’t one of those mass-produced Irish pubs with Harp on draft and quaint Celtic antiques to remind you of the last time you hoisted a few in County Clare. You want draft and you’d better like Bud. If it weren’t in the middle of the block on Sellers Avenue, you could describe it as the “corner tappy.” But there’s that unmistakable hospitality and good cheer that says “Ireland.” Even the employees show up on their days off—like bartender Jay Whaley, who anchored a corner of the bar with his beer and led the patrons in singing and clapping to whatever Irish music was playing. “He does Blackthorn great,” says Poppa D. “We have a party the Friday before Christmas. He leads the singing and you don’t want to hear it.”
“We call ourselves Dolan’s Tavernacle Choir,” laughs Irma.
Then there are the Bag Parties. “The rule is ‘no bag, no beer,’” says Irma. “You have to come in with a bag on your head or you won’t be served.”
At the end of basketball season, the aromas wafting from the bar kitchen are decidedly not Irish. “We have Polish Day the last day of basketball,” explains Irma. “We have halupkies, Polish kielbasa, PJ makes pierogies, and the patrons bring food too. It all started when a bunch of old men had a bet and the loser had to bring in Jewish rye bread and pickles and Polish food. And every year it just grew and grew and grew. We’ve probably been doing it for 20 years.”
Twenty years ago, many of Dolan’s patrons would have been toddling around with their sippy cups full of apple juice. There’s a healthy crop of young regulars who have their favorite seats at the bar. Like Joseph Patrick Quinn. “I’m here four days a week,” says Quinn, who lives in Glenolden. “Whether it’s June 1 or March 17, I’ll be here. This is my place.”
And Anthony Handley of Ridley, who, like many of the younger regulars, was keeping up a family tradition: Spending St. Patrick’s Day at Dolan’s. But this time it was with his dad, Allen. “We really love this place,” he says. “We don’t have to worry about drinking too much because we can walk home.”
“But if it gets too bad,” adds his father with a grin, “we can always call Mom.”
Join in the virtual shenanigans at http://groups.myspace.com/dolansbar
