Arriving: On an early Friday evening, St. Andrews Tavern in Altamonte Springs already has more customers than parking. I ended up with a spot about 50 yards into the surrounding neighborhood. Inside and out, St. Andrews is a real pub and not an "incredible simulation;" worn but not worn-out. It's not a big place, but you can choose from a seat at the bar, a cozy corner or the gathered crowd by the dartboards. Satellite radio is playing '80s British pop like Lisa Stansfield and Terence Trent D'Arby, who, by the way, went to high school in DeLand. And you can smoke!
Scoping: At 7 p.m., the crowd has a lot of UK expats in their 30's and 40's. As the night goes on, the younger crowd starts coming in; rugby types, college girls and I spotted one mohawk. St. Andrews has plenty of regulars, and the bartenders knew their regular beverages.
Drinking: There is a full bar, but most folks are drinking well-pulled pints of Guinness or Boddingtons ($4.50). These are 20-ounce imperial pints, four ounces bigger than the 16-ounce American pint. My drinking pal for the night is a fan (I don't know why) of Jagerbombs ($6). I hate when bars don't trust you with their shot glasses and give you your liquor in plastic, or worse, pre-mixed. St. Andrews isn't like that, so if you order an Irish car bomb, you clever drinker, don't be a prick and steal the shot glass.
Chewing: The savory turnover called a "pastie" rhymes with the way Americans say "nasty." You don't rhyme it with "tasty," even though pasties are. To further confuse, the $5.50 pastie plate comes with chips (or what Brits call "crisps"). For $7.50, you get a pastie with fries (also called "chips").
All you really need to remember that they're damn good with a browned, flaky crust and the filling of an oniony beef potpie. "Brown sauce" comes on the side -- the sweeter, thicker cousin to A1 Steak Sauce.
Steak and kidney pie ($10.95) is on the menu -- which I did not eat. Oh, I have tried to love organ meat, but to me, kidney tastes like pennies with the texture of pencil eraser. The man three seats over was happily wolfing it down, but I wouldn't be able to finish even if there was a $10 bill at the bottom. (Maybe a $20, but not a $10.)
Instead, I had the steak and ale pie for the same $10.95 and was a happy man. A top crust of puff pastry is baked over a bowl of carrots, potatoes and beef. In print, that reads a lot like the pastie, but the pie is chunkier and more like a stew. You even get a soupspoon to eat it. My only gripe would be that the sauce is a mite sweet for my taste. The French fries are wonderful, crispy outside and fluffy in. Even the "veg" of the day, peas, hadn't been boiled to death.
The ultimate test of a place's pub food is its fish and chips ($10.95). Again, we have a winner. The plate here includes those great French fries and two big fillets of white, flaky Icelandic cod. Fresh out of the fryer, it's served crispy and hot.
Going: I've always suspected that St. Andrews was once a home because the urinal sits in a little alcove that reminds me of a shower stall. In a brilliant cost-saving move, the mirror over the sink is a bar mirror. Yes, your love of beer is written all over your face.
Departing: St. Andrews Tavern belongs to a former British footballer, but if you come to this tavern for talking, that doesn't automatically mean the conversation will turn to soccer and golf. Oh, it might, but steer the talk and before long, you might find yourself doing what I did; chatting with the couple next to you about Jennifer Love Hewitt's unusually large eyes.
