By Gabby Dunn

Every weekend, you can find at least one member of the Dunn family inside Penny Lane Pub on East Franklin Street in downtown Richmond. As a little girl, instead of being taken to church on Saturday or Sunday, I would be dressed up in red from head to toe and taken to the local Liverpool FC fan’s favorite bar wherever we lived at that time.

After moving to Richmond in 2016, my dad Adam Dunn, an avid soccer fan, player, coach, and enthusiast, struggled to find our new weekend home for watching British Premier League soccer. Three hours of research later, my Dad stumbled upon our new spot. On that day, we put on our red jerseys and Liverpool scarves and prepared to watch whatever Liverpool match was being broadcast that day. After stepping through the heavy wooden door, my dad fell in love with the “Liverpudlian” atmosphere. I don’t know whether it was the wooden bar, the beams covering the restaurant, the mugs hanging from every surface, the Liverpool paraphernalia surrounding the two stories, or the quirky photos of owner Terry O’Neill. O’Neill, a quiet yet cheery old man from Liverpool, takes his job very seriously and loves everything about his home across the pond, as well as the icons that represent it, such as The Beatles and Queen Elizabeth II. 

O’Neill has photos of himself meeting prominent English soccer players hanging all around the bar, as well as other famous British icons. Aside from those, he has important historical photos and memorabilia surrounding the dining area. Next to our regular table, he has a photo of Saddam Hussein’s capture and a Yale University poster. Scattered across the mantle are bobbleheads of Sir Paul McCartney and the Beatles, next to the Queen.

The Dunn family tradition has continued, and my dad often refers to Penny Lane as his church, and he even says that the staff and other customers are a part of his family. On our most recent visit a few weeks ago, we entered through the rustic wooden door and were seated by O’Neill at “our” table in the back corner of the first floor. We talked with our server, Terence O’Neill, Terry’s son, and put in a round of waters while my dad requested his usual Guinness. Friends passed by and stopped to talk with my dad, my sister Haley Dunn (‘20), and me about the starting lineup while we waited for the Liverpool game to start at around 12:30 p.m. (5:30 p.m. in England). Since we all play soccer, we can speak about the game in what seems like a foreign language. 

We waited until halftime and picked out what we wanted to eat from the menu, which offers selections spanning from chicken tenders to bangers and mash, to a full authentic English breakfast. I chose the barbeque chicken tenders, while my sister chose the buffalo chicken tenders, and my dad stuck with his classic curry fries. 

As the game rolled on, Liverpool was winning of course, but not by a large enough amount, and the tensions in the bar began rising. The large crowd, spanning from my age to about 70, and covered in red, shared their complaints about the referees that day or how terribly they thought the team was playing. We waited at the edge of our seats, both to see which team would score next and for the food to come. Our plates arrived at the table about twenty minutes after ordering, and right as the ceramic hit the surface, I picked up my knife and fork and cut into the chicken tender.  The sweet and tangy barbeque sauce mixed perfectly with fried chicken tenders lying beneath the thick sauce. 

Being the curious foodie that I am, I grabbed my fork and reached to try the food from my dad’s plate. I had to be as stealthy as possible and steal a fry during an exciting part of the game. 

During each game, I have an app on my phone called 365 Sports that notifies me of goals before they even happen on the television programs. Therefore, I logged into the app, waited for something eventful to happen, and then strategically stole a curry fry from his dish and emerged unscathed. I strongly dislike both the scent and taste of anything buffalo, and am terrified to even steal food from my sister, so I refrained from eating any of her buffalo chicken tenders. However, Hayley commented that “the buffalo tenders always have just the right about of sauce on the outside,” and that “the ideal weekend consists of Liverpool and Penny Lane’s buffalo tenders.” 

After yet another Liverpool victory against Norwich City, we walked out of the pub feeling both full and accomplished. The prices at Penny Lane (though I’ve never had to pay for myself) are fairly inexpensive for a satisfying meal, and each dish leaves you feeling satiated, yet not overly full. 

Editor’s Note: Penny Lane pub is closed for now, due to the COVID-19 pandemic.