Aidan
Mullally of Mullally's Lounge Bar, Brandon Village,
County Kerry.
There may be a better host somewhere, but I don't know
of one.
A pub in Ireland is just as likely to
be called a “bar” or a “lounge bar” as it is a “pub.”
The Irish don’t seem to feel any national nostalgia
about the term “pub” and in fact you’ll probably hear
the word rarely. If an Irishman is going to a pub, he
will usually say, “I’m going for a pint,” rather than
“I’m going to the pub.” I sometimes suspect that the
Irish feel the term “pub” has been appropriated by the
tourists and are a bit chary about using it themselves.
But whatever it’s called, the place is the same.
Almost.
It’s risky to generalize about Irish pubs and bars.
Through the length and breadth of the country you could
find absolutely every kind of place imaginable. But for
the purposes of discussion, a few characteristics could
be set out that will be found to hold pretty well.
Most pubs will have a bar and a sitting area. This
sitting area will most likely be furnished with
upholstered banquettes along the wall, small tables,
and some backless stools. The sturdy tables and stools
are movable and you should feel to free arrange them
however you like. Groups of folks will accommodate
themselves by appropriating unused tables and stools in
order to gather themselves together. If stools are in
short supply, it’s perfectly acceptable to ask to
borrow one that isn’t being used from another grouping.
Such an overture will sometimes even start a friendly
conversation between the borrower and the stool’s
original steward.
There will always be some kind of a bar. It may be
straight and forty feet long, as at Kruger’s, or twenty
feet long and c-shaped, as at Páidí Ó Sé’s, or six feet
long and straight as at Tig Bhric. Every size, every
shape. Some are polished and elegant, others look like
ancient, much-carved school desks. But the drill will
be pretty much the same no matter what the bar looks
like.
There won’t be any table service, so you place your
order at the bar. There are two broad species of
acquirables at a bar: the liquid and the solid. I’ll
start with the liquids.
You can pretty much count on every bar in Ireland
having Guinness, Smithwicks, and Harp on tap. Guinness
is absolutely and invariably available everywhere. It
is the standard drink. Guinness is a thick, dark brew
with the rich, roasty, slightly bitter taste of hops.
Irish connoisseurs will tell you that “Guinness is your
only pint!” Some may even look down upon anyone who
would drink a "flimsy lager" like Harp, but they would
also defend your right to do as you please, so order
whatever takes your fancy.
Harp is, as noted above, a lager. Much lighter than
Guinness, it is brewed by the same company, and has a
sweeter, almost nutty flavor that many Americans enjoy
and relate to through their experiences with American
lagers such as Budweiser and Miller and the like.
Budweiser has been making considerable headway of late,
particularly among the ladies, and is now brewed in
Dublin. Aside from fashion and marketing, it’s hard to
imagine why this is so, considering the availability of
good Irish and European beers.
Between the thick black heft of Guinness and the pale
glow of Harp is the warm reddish tincture of Smithwicks
ale. Smithwicks (pronounced SMITT-icks) is brewed in
Kilkenny, and is almost exactly between the two others
in matters of “weight,” opacity, and flavor.
In some parts of the country, mostly in the south but
spreading rapidly, Murphy’s stout can be obtained.
Murphy’s is brewed in Cork, and is very like Guinness
in color and heft. Its head tends to be much finer and
more delicately bubbled than Guinness, and to my taste
it is just a trifle sweeter and less hoppy than
Guinness. Outside of Cork the availability of Murphy’s
is spotty. On the Dingle Peninsula, for example, Páidi
Ó Sé’s has it and Kruger’s does not. Beamish is also
making some headway.
Bottled beer, is also available of course. But unless
you are allergic to draught beer or require this
special medication on doctor’s advice, it seems a shame
to miss the charm and flavor of Irish draught brew.
When you order a draught in a bar, you may order a pint
or a glass. The pint is a full 16 ounces. The glass,
sometimes also called a “medium” or a “half,” is about
10 ounces. If you order Guinness or Murphy’s for the
first time you may be surprised to watch the barman
draw the glass full of foam and liquid, set it down on
a little grill atop the bar, and walk away to do some
other business. He is not being rude and he isn’t
ignoring you. A “properly pulled pint” needs time for
the first drawing to settle before being topped off,
and it will take a minute or two for the head to
subside so that the barman can finish pulling your
drink. Meanwhile, you are free to find yourself a
banquette, arrange some tables for your group, check
out the WC, whatever— in a minute or so he will finish
pulling your drink and set it on the bar for you. Pay
him and take your drink where you will. There may be a
peat fire burning in the grate, and on a cool and damp
day the first long sip of a well-pulled pint never
tastes better than when taken sitting up close to a
pungent peat fire.
A pint of Guinness will cost about €3.20, Smithwicks
about €3.30, and Harp about €3.40, this will vary
slightly depending on the place. Mediums start about
€1.90 on the same scale.
Never tip a barman. It is not the custom, and may even
be seen as offensive and condescending. Very, very
rarely, and under somewhat extraordinary conditions of
fellow-feeling, one might offer to buy the barman a
drink. But keep in mind that doing so is very unusual,
and to suggest it is to risk violating custom and
perhaps even declaring yourself to be presumptious and
unpleasantly flambuoyant.
For those who prefer whiskey, it is available of
course. A regular, run-of-the-mill, bar portion of
whiskey is simply “a whiskey.” What we would call a
double in America, is “a large whiskey.” Both will be
served in a glass without ice, unless you specifically
request ice. (It’s a moot point whether it’s
thoughtfulness or a subtle Gaelic insult when the
barman puts a glass full of ice next to your whiskey
without asking.) You’ll probably be asked if you want
water, or the barman will as a matter of course set a
small water pitcher within your reach. Depending on the
place, there isn’t all that much whiskey consumed in an
Irish bar. Irish whiskeys (With an “e.” The name comes
from the Irish Gaelic uisce beatha, pronounced EESH-kuh
BAH-ha, which means “the water of life.”) include
Jameson’s, Paddy, Tullamore Dew, Middleton, and Powers
(from the Republic), and Bushmills and Bushmill’s
Blackbush and Single Malt (from Northern Ireland).
Irish whiskey is less peaty and smoky than Scotch, but
every bit as flavorful and distinctive in its own
right.
For those who prefer non-alcoholic refreshments, the
pub will have a large selection to choose from.
Everything from American soft drinks to the largest
imaginable selection of bottled lemonades is available.
Bulmer's bottled cider is a very popular drink, as
well.
Now for the non-beverage offerings of the Irish bar.
Most bars will offer some sort of eats, but more often
than not the selection will be minimal. The kinds of
sandwiches and such that are available are called “bar
food,” or “pub grub.” While it varies widely in quality
and variety, for the most part “pub grub” should be
considered emergency victuals only. The typical Irish
pub's cheese sandwich could well be considered the
culinary version of a ritual initiation ordeal for the
new visitor. Most bars will have a selection of
junk-food packets available. Such snacks as Tayto’s
(potato crisps— what we call chips in America) and a
variety of crackers are almost always available, though
their freshness may be much in doubt in a rural pub.
There are pubs that offer good food along with drinks.
You’ll have to find out which these are.
In the way of pub games, the chances are that you won’t
find a dart game in progress in the average Irish pub.
It isn’t a game with much appeal for rural pub-goers.
Sometimes, on a Saturday night, you might come upon a
small- stakes quiz game in which you may be invited to
participate. Many of the questions will center on Irish
football, so be prepared by boning up on the
inter-county championship games for the last thirty or
so years.
In the minds of most visitors an Irish pub would not be
complete without the sweet sounds of the Irish pipes,
the tin whistle, the fiddle, and the bodhrán. The sad
truth is that music is not always to be heard in the
Irish pub. Most pubs, at one time or another will have
some sort of music, often by professional musicians of
impressive skill. Some places are even considered
“music pubs.” But even in those places that are known
for their music you will sometimes have to take your
chances. As with many other phenomena in Éire (such as
the weather), you may expect to occasionally hear “Ah,
you should have been here last night!” or perhaps, “The
boys should be along any time now.”
What do you call someone who goes to a pub? The best
term is probably “pub-goer.” “Drinker” isn’t right,
since not all pub-goers drink. You quickly realize the
special place of the pub in Irish society when you drop
into Kruger's in Dún Chaoin of an evening and see the
small children running and playing about the place
while their parents have a pint and a chat with their
neighbors. (Dogs, as elsewhere in Ireland, are
frequently to be found in pubs. Tommy Mannion's in
Clifden had one that kept excellent time to the music
with his tail. Kruger's in Dún Chaoin had a discerning
creature that chased and retrieved tossed coins, but
returned them only to the regulars!)
One of the aspects of the Irish pub that often
surprises visitors is how many of them there are. In
Dingle, for example, there are about fifty pubs for a
year-around population of about 1200 people. As a
general rule there will be a pub for every fifty or
sixty people in a community. And that’s the important
word: community. The Irish pub serves as a local center
for news, conversation, music, camaraderie, and, of
course, an occasional portion of liquid
refreshment.