Dining

Oi! Oi! Oi! Lilly May’s British flair brings more pub grub to downtown

05/07/08 @ 10:52:31 am by archivesadmin

By: Shea Carver

When we think of pub grub, most of the time the smorgasbord consists of wings, potato skins, cheese sticks and burgers, with an occasional cup of chili thrown in for good indigestion measure. Add to it a pint of brew, and it’s a meal perfect for many football-watching Sundays.

But what kind of pub serves up varietal cheese plates, gourmet panini sandwiches, a walnut raspberry salad and handmade pasties? Welcome to Lilly May’s, located at 114 Dock Street.

Foremost, Lilly May’s is Wilmington’s only British pub, serving up pints of ale hailed in the land of beer-swigging experts. From Fullers to Smithwick to Sam Smith, the brew menu is lengthy here. The import list is even more impressive and beckons any beer snob. However, folks who prefer grapes over barley and hops will find a wine list that spans whites and reds from North Carolina to Spain, California to Italy. While the Lunch Bunch decidedly took a visit downtown last Wednesday around noon, we pretended it was 5 o’ clock somewhere and shared a pint of Fullers London as to not pass up on the true pub experience. Upon our arrival, Brett Wood, Lilly May’s manager, and Chef John Waite already had a plate filled with raspberries, grapes and strawberries, wafer crackers and various cheeses, from brie to blue-cheese-stuffed cheddar, awaiting our nibbling fingers. Hummus and crostinis, alongside celery and carrots, spread across trays atop wine-cask pub tables.

The building itself didn’t seem very big from the onset, but once inside we toured through the cozy brown and blue-striped main room and into what seemed like someone’s living room, where a couch and chair seemingly awaited visitors. A hutch leaned against a back wall, showcasing a shrine to no one other than Princess Diana; a coffee table had a selection of food and wine magazines; and pictures of a lady, aging throughout her lifetime, from young to old, hung on the walls.

“That’s Lilly May,” ad rep John Hitt said, pointing to the old photos. “She was the owner’s grams,” he continued, inadvertently acknowledging the fact that he was already a regular to the month-old establishment. He acted as a tour guide through the rest of the space, leading us to a side door that opened to an outdoor patio. “This is my favorite part,” he announced, walking into a brick corridor.

“Wow, it’s a hideaway from the rest of downtown,” Emily Rea, our assistant editor, added.

“Yeah, it’s really quaint,” I noted of the narrow sitting area, strewn with cast-iron tables. “It doesn’t even feel like we’re amongst the bustling streets of Dock and Front.” Without being introduced to its existence, it can easily go unnoticed.

Stepping back through the doors, we decidedly took our places around the appetizers, dipping and munching. “This hummus is great,” coworker Lani Minihan said, “and I usually don’t even like hummus.”

Despite our vegging and gorging, once Chef Waite put a plate of paninis in front of us, the feast truly began. We indulged in a roasted turkey and roast beef variety, the former filled with Monterey jack cheese, caramalized onions and sun-dried tomato pesto, which provided a lovely sweet bite to the crusty sandwich. “I usually use ciabatta,” the chef noted, “but today I used a baguette.” It proved delightful nonetheless.

While anything with horseradish on it is a succulent temptation, Lilly May’s makes their roast beef sandwich even more delightful. They pile the beef with horseradish cheddar cheese, red and green bell peppers, caramalized onions and a horseradish aioli, giving it an extra kick. Also situated on the Elton John album-turned-serving tray was a Cuban sandwich—perhaps not an authentic version with roasted pork but a delicious alternative regardless. Roasted turkey and honey ham are sliced between pickles, swiss cheese and homemade chipotle dijonaise.

“I could eat this every day,” Lani said.

“Just wait ‘til you taste the Cornish pasties,” the chef added, putting before us a plate of the famous pies.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Did he say pasties?” I whispered to John Hitt, who nodded, and replied, “But not the kind you’re thinking of.”

As it turns out, pasties were born out of Cornwell, United Kingdom, and prove to be quite similar to that of an American turnover or a Cuban empanada. They’re fried and shaped like a half moon, filled with a variety of flavors. “We have a chicken masala,” Chef Waite pointed out, “filled with Indian spices. We have a sausage roll and a traditional Cornish roll.”

“It reminds me of a Jamaican pie,” I said.

“Well, we have a Jamaican flavor, too,” the chef responded, pointing to their daily special board, which listed a host of tastes.

“Oh my goodness,” Sue Cothran, our lovely graphic designer, expressed of the chicken masala, “this is so good—tastes exotic.”

“Mmmm, this one is, too,” I noted of the Cornish flavor, which was filled with hearty steak and potatoes. What I didn’t know at the time was the slang reference the Brits make of the pies, often calling them Tiddy Oggy—which, in my personal opinion, is just tons more fun to say. They even have a song dedicated to the food, a rhyme known as “Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, Oi, Oi, Oi.” It was created because British miners often ate the pies at lunch, wherein their bal-maidens would send the pies down shafts, saying, “Oggy, oggy, oggy,” as the miners replied, “Oi, oi, oi!” (“Yes, yes, yes!”) I suppose it’s like the American version of ringing a bell and saying, “Come and get it!”

As we continued to munch, I thought aloud, “I’m surprised they don’t have bangers and mash or fish and chips here,” noting British staples at most traditional pubs. “However, I am happily surprised—the food is really great. It defies all the negative stereotypes the Brits often get of their cuisine.”

Just as I took one last bite and was ready to call it a done deal, Chef Waite returned with individual pastries, dusted with powdered sugar, topped with a mint leaf and garnished with fresh strawberries. “It’s a strawberry-raspberry-filled pastry, with homemade whipped cream,” he proudly explained as he placed the decadent desserts in front of us. I could feel the happiness in my stomach mounting and quickly digesting my food as to make room for the sweet treat. As if on cue, the entire Lunch Bunch bit into the first piece, and ooohhhed and aaahhhed, even rolled our eyes, in heavenly bliss. “I love it because it isn’t too sweet,” John said.

“You know why we put it on the menu?” Manager Wood asked John, who nodded his head in dismay. “Because of Susan,” he said, referring to John’s fiance. “She said we should have a dessert, and, well, now we do.”

“Great!” John responded. “She’ll love it.”

“Yeah, we’re actually changing our menu a lot, adding more vegetarian items to draw a diverse crowd,” Wood continued.

“Whatever you do, add more of this,” I noted, pointing my fork toward my almost-clean dessert plate.

With a smile and a gracious nod, he simply said, “So glad you liked it.”

Oi, oi, oi, did we ever. And we’re sure Mrs. Lilly May, herself, couldn’t be more proud of adding such delectable British flair to the streets of Wilmington.