The King’s Feast
636 Central Avenue
Pawtucket
by Bob Mariani
Deep, deep in Pawtucket on Central Ave., there’s a beautifully restored old brick firehouse that’s been turned into a bustling neighborhood bar and restaurant called Hose Company No. 6. But, on Saturday evenings, the upstairs dining room of this local pub becomes the venue for the raucous and bawdy "King’s Feast." Here the public is invited to join the rambunctious King Cedric (played nobly by actor, Chris Perrotti) and his comedic court for a night of medieval revelry—oh, yes, and a meal. The owners and producers of The King’s Feast are Sean and Evette Kelly. Sean is also the author of the witty and often hilarious script, with generous helpings of improvised shtick from the raucous seven-person cast.
Reservations are required and when you arrive at the downstairs entrance to Hose Company No. 6, there’s a bit of a skirmish at the front desk before you’re checked in and led up the spiral stairs to the dining hall. Paulie, the Court Fool, who dresses like a medieval jester but talks like an escapee from The Sopranos, escorts you to your table which seats six. This is the kind of outing you’ll want to share with a group of friends and there’s plenty of good-natured audience involvement throughout the evening.
The affable wait staff/performers regale you with quips about King Cedric’s difficulties holding on to his beloved queen and warn you about the King’s strict rule against the use of any eating utensils. (A fork! A fork! My kingdom for a fork!) Jim and his sister Judy, two of the more audacious cut-ups at our table, apparently had known about this rule and had brought a metal fork, which they proceeded to try to "plant" on other unsuspecting audience members. When it ended up back at Judy’s place, she was forced by the King to stand up in front of the assemblage and recite some faltering lines from Shakespeare. (Not exactly a medieval beheading, but sufficiently embarrassing.)
The entertainment, which begins before you even take your seat, is pretty much non-stop and the food becomes at best, an after thought. There’s nothing much to report about the menu. It probably resembles the kind of simple fare that passed for a "feast" in medieval times of famine. A basket of garlic pita bread starts things off. It’s followed by a simple lettuce, tomato and cucumber salad.
Then bowls of tomato soup arrive—but what to slurp it up with? Ah-hah! Suddenly two loaves of warm Italian bread are tossed cavalierly on the table. Perfect for lusty soup dipping. Next came the high point of the meal for me: a large communal platter of black mussels with plenty of drawn butter for dipping. I polished off more than my share as the cast continued its banter, with Serena Wench (played by Yvette Kelly) licking butter off her own bosom, and reciting R-rated limericks and bawdy tales. Next, our waiter, "Humphrey, The Court Idiot," (played in a delightfully clueless Stan Laurel style by Frank Dixon) brought us bowls of bite-size beef cubes in a rather thin "stroganoff sauce." The final main course was a half of a small chicken roasted to a juicy tenderness and piping hot from the kitchen. Perfect finger food you can tear into just like Henry VIII. All that was missing were a few dogs to throw the bones to.
Dessert, which followed almost immediately as the wenches and the courtiers continued their antics all over the hall, was a tray full of two bite-size creampuffs with whipped cream. Paulie the jester demonstrated a rather licentious method of licking the whipped cream from the puff as buxom Roision Wench (played by ginger-haired Jennifer Harty) egged him on. Testy Mench (played by Jay Menice) tossed off a few more tawdry stories about the King’s love life. The evening’s music, provided ably by Court Minstrel, Moose, (Tommy D’Agnostino), is a deft mix of story and song—and definitely not with junior in mind. It was nearly 10:30 by the time the Feast broke up and the crowd departed seeming quite satisfied with their evening. Indeed, The King’s Feast is a really fun way to spend some time with friends and make new ones. Be advised that a good deal of the comedy material is probably not suitable for kids under 18. Cameras but no video cameras are permitted. The dinner and the show cost $35 a person (gratuity not included) and includes a continuous supply of dark beer, wine and apple cider. Attire is casual and parking is free next door. Reservations are required and may be had by calling 722-7220 Tuesday through Sunday. Or visit their website.
Bob Mariani is a Southeastern New England freelance author. Besides his "Table for Two" restaurant reviews found here, he also writes jazz articles on allaboutjazz.com.
