Irish Pub Poseurs in Philly

It’s been awhile between posts, loyal readers; it seems that ol’ Paddy doesn’t get out much these days. I’ve picked the low-hanging fruit in my area, so it looks like I need to expand my horizons and plan some road trips. Anyway, I was in old city Philadelphia for a birthday party the other night. The festivities were happening in a dark club with overpriced drinks and lots of neon lights. Not my scene, to say the least. I don’t feel any more hip and sophisticated paying $12 for Jameson. Not 12 year-old or Gold label, by the way, just run-of-the-mill Jameson. I decided to step out and check out some nearby places that call themselves Irish pubs.

I went into The Plough and The Stars on 2nd street. The place looks like someone turned an old bank into a bar and didn’t put much effort into it. The interior was pretty sparse, with some tables and a bar against the wall. The décor was minimal and not remotely Irish. The place looked pretty generic. The bartender was very friendly and rattled off the bar’s (extensive) Irish whiskey selection without missing a beat. It didn’t seem like a bad place to enjoy a cocktail, but The Plough and The Stars is definitely not an Irish pub.

I headed over to Brownie’s, which seemed more promising. It has a big flag hanging out front with a green shamrock emblazoned on it. Inside, the bar has the casual look of a corner sports bar; dark wood bar, pool table, sports memorabilia on the walls. There wasn’t much to designate the place as an Irish pub, no real décor to speak of. The bar selection was pretty weak, with only 4 Irish whiskies on offer. Brownie’s is the kind of so-called Irish pub that bothers me; it’s just a sports bar that tries to become an Irish pub by putting up a few shamrocks. They need to exert more effort in order to be credible.

The bottom line is that neither of these places qualifies as an Irish pub. They both may be perfectly suitable watering holes, but if you seek some good craic, go elsewhere.

Uisce Beatha: Powers

As I'm sitting here watching Notre Dame take a beating at the hands of Navy, I figure I can post a long overdue rating of my new go-to, everyday Irish whiskey. Powers is a good bridge whiskey for those who are skeptical of Irish whiskey. It is a pot still, though not a pure one like Red Breast, so it has a more full-bodied and muscular taste. Powers is smoother than Jameson, sweet but without being cloying like Bushmills is, and more robust than Tullamore Dew. And since Powers is generally slightly cheaper than the big 3, there's another reason you can turn the Scotch and Bourbon crowd onto it without much financial risk to them.

Powers has a nice, deep gold color, darker than many other Irish selections. The initial smell is like honey-coated alcohol, giving you a simultaneous sense of smoothness and robustness. The taste is smooth and peppery, with a pleasant shot of alcohol throughout the sinuses. Powers lingers in the mouth, with a nice stickiness on the tongue. For one of the cheaper Irish whiskey, Powers gives a lot of bang for the buck. For those who dismiss the Irish drams for being overly light and lacking complexity, Powers is one to try.

Powers is a whiskey that grows on you. At first, I termed it "hair on your chest whiskey" because of the heavier flavor than is usual for Irish whiskey. I used to need ice with Powers back when, the training wheels so to speak. But given enough time and tastings, the "Powers Punch" will become your friend. Now, I take it straight, which I recommend to others, but you can still dash in some water to open it up. Now, if you're coming to Powers from Bushmills or Tullamore Dew, be prepared to get knocked back a step. If you're a Jameson man, Powers will be a nice step up, having all the muscularity without the excessive alcohol burn. And if you're into the pot still taste of Red Breast, Powers will fall nicely into your stride, being sort of a rascally, shanty Irish, pot still cousin to RB. Powers may not be great, but it is very good for what it is. And it's the perfect dram for the upcoming winter.

Paddy's Grade: B

Paddy's Disappointments

Why am I disappointed? The first reason is painfully obvious to any Notre Dame fans out there. The Irish were out-played by Michigan. Notre Dame came out swinging, easily marching down the field for a score on their first possession. Michigan came right back to tie it up. Then Dayne Crist had to be sidelined for a while. The Irish’s 2 back-up QBs, included Joe Montana’s son Nate, couldn’t make anything happen. Meanwhile, Michigan’s offense picked apart the Irish defense, bringing the score to 21-7 at the half. Crist came back out to retake the lead at the end of the 4th quarter, but Michigan came right back with a game-winning score.

This was a different-looking team from last week. The Irish were firing on all cylinders against Perdue: offense, defense, and special teams. The run game looked like it wouldn’t solely consist of Armando Allen. But Michigan’s defense made the Irish look like a one trick pony; Crist passing to TE Kyle Rudolph was all that seemed to work. The Irish defense wasn’t giving up any long balls to Michigan’s QB, who responded by throwing underneath all day and running for over 200 yards. I’m hoping this isn’t another hot-and-cold year for the Irish; I guess this Saturday’s game against Michigan State will show if the Irish can really jell.

My second disappointment came when Mrs. Paddy and I visited Catherine Rooney’s newly opened second location in Newark, Delaware. I consider Rooney’s Wilmington location to be one of Delaware’s best Irish pubs. The Newark version did not impress me, though. The new place in has the same authentic Irish pub look as the original: dark wood, cabinets adorning the bar, a parlor room. But the craic just wasn’t there. Newark is a college town, and while I expected a college crowd I was still put off at the obnoxious loudness of the bar patrons. Irish pubs are supposed to be fun, laid back places, not gin mills with people screaming at each other for no good reason. The whole staff was young, but I was surprised that the bartender did not give me a blank stare when I asked for a Powers neat. He did put my whiskey in a snifter, an unfortunate habit that too many bartenders have. Snifters are for cognac and other liquors; whiskey goes in a whiskey glass, damn it. The drink was ridiculously over-priced, too. The barkeep either rang it up wrong or management is trying to bleed liquor drinkers dry. The food was okay, about the same quality as the original location. The new location has the same Irish whiskey to Scotch proportion problem as the original location, almost 2-to-1 in favor of Scotch. They can still put Dawlwhinnie on the back bar, but no Red Breast? Let’s get with it, guys.

It was not an overall pleasant experience that we had, but I don’t think it is entirely the fault of the establishment. My opinion is that Rooney’s owners opened the wrong type of place in the wrong location. Irish pubs appeal to a more grown-up and civilized customer base; opening one in a hard-drinking college town is not advisable. The problem is compounded by the fact that Catherine Rooney’s has an established reputation and a loyal following. This new location may just hurt their brand. The owners of Rooney’s would have been better off opening another of their C.R. Hooligans sports bar location in Newark. Hooligans is a more casual place that appeals to a younger, more rowdy crowd. It would have been a perfect fit for Newark, as opposed to them trying to put the round peg of Rooney’s into the square hole of Main Street Newark. The absence of critic made all the difference; it goes to show how vital it is for a pub to have. The original Rooney’s has plenty to go around, which is why I keep going back. The new Rooney’s doesn’t have the critic at all, which is why I’ll probably not go back.

Paddy’s Grade: C-

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

The Fighting Irish: Week 1

The Irish got off to a solid start this year versus Perdue. Dayne Crist appears to be a worthy successor to Clausen and Quinn. The ground game looks much improved and the defense looks better than it has in awhile. I know it's just one game and it wasn't exactly a blowout cakewalk (you guys got nailed for a safety? Seriously?) but I'm cautiously getting my hopes up. I'm looking forward to enjoying many a fine dram of Irish whiskey while watching Notre Dame do better than .500.

Inquiring minds may want to know which Irish pub I selected for my Fighting Irish viewing pleasure. Well, I didn't. You see, I knew I was going to probably get a bit loud and rowdy, this being the kick-off game and all. Plus, since the temperature leveled off into the realm of bearability, I was going to be able to partake in copious amounts of Irish whiskey (Tully Dew in this case). I know it sounds strange coming from a committed shanty Irishman, but I didn't want to act like a boor at one of my favored local pubs. I can't stand those guys who scream and holler at the top of their miserable lungs over every down of a game. I like a lively sports bar scene, but I don't need my ears to bleed because the guy next to me is blowing a very loud gasket because his fantasy stats are getting shellacked. I don't want to be that obnoxious, screaming jag-off, at least not in place that I frequent. So, I decided to take in the game at home, where I could bellow and carry on to my heart's content. I'd only be disturbing my neighbors, and we don't talk much anyway. (And probably even less so now, considering all the windows were open in my place while I watched the game). Now, I just have to decide what whiskey I'm going to have as an accompaniment to this Saturday's game versus Michigan. There's a bottle of Paddy on my shelf that's been looking awfully lonely of late. Here's hoping that I'll be toasting to a 2-0 start.

Getting my Irish up with the Phils

With the lengthy heat wave we’ve been experiencing in my area recently, I haven’t been too keen on visiting Irish pubs. As much as I love Irish whiskey, it is not my go-to alcoholic beverage when the heat index is pushing into triple digits. And I’m too much of a shanty mick to order anything but the uisce beatha when I’m in an Irish bar. In short, I haven’t been seeing the inside of too many pubs lately.

I did go to a Philadelphia Phillies game the other day when they hosted the San Francisco Giants (Phils won 9-3). I’m not a baseball fan, but some friends invited Mrs. Paddy and I, and we had a great time. Incidentally, it was also Irish heritage night at the ballpark. Plenty of people were wearing Irish-themed shirts, including the green Phillies t-shirt with a shamrock. There was a school dance troupe performing Irish dancing on top of the home team dugout during one of the breaks. The Phanatic got up there and danced with them, which was very amusing.

Before the game, we did stop in to McFadden’s saloon and restaurant. McFadden’s is a pub with a main location in Philadelphia and is very popular with the early twenties crowd. It usually gets mentioned when one asks about Philly Irish pubs even though I saw nothing in the location where it advertised itself as an Irish pub (and it is definitely not one). McFadden’s claim to local fame is that they employ almost entirely a female bar and service staff of the young, leggy, and busty variety. Now, I’m a red-blooded American male and far be it from me to complain about an establishment that is staffed with attractive women. However, having been a bartender for 10 years, there are certainly some drawbacks to the non-Y chromosome bar staff. First of all, hiring someone just on the basis of looks is a bad idea. In my experience, personality and mixology skill are what makes a good bartender. Being easy on the eyes is certainly an asset, but being hot alone does not seal the deal. Forgive my indelicacy, but if a bartender is an incompetent bitch, her big knockers and sharp cheekbones are not going to make me feel good about getting sub-par service. Now before I hear the howls of protest about my latent sexism, let me say that I don’t have anything against female bartenders. I’ve worked with women who can hold down a busy bar just as well as any guy. My beef is with the d-cup dullards who think that wearing hot shorts and 2 pounds of eye make-up is all that counts when tending bar. I also blame the owners and managers who hire based on bra and waist size rather then drink knowledge and customer service skills. Granted, you can teach drink recipes and proper service, but you can’t teach hotness, I get that. But even my wife’s heart sinks when we sit down at a bar and some blank-faced Barbie comes over to serve us. Call us judgmental, but in that situation, neither my wife nor I are going to risk ordering a dry, in-and-out Gibson. We’ll probably get something red with Jager in it.

So, back to McFadden’s. The bar was busy, but staffed with 5-6 bartenders, none of whom seemed to be working very hard. After about 5 minutes of waiting, one of them saw me and took my order. This girl, aside from having her boobs pushed up practically to her chin, seemed practically comatose. Cocaine is usually the dope of choice for bartenders, but this girl looked like she was nodding off on heroin. No smile, no please or thank you; just an impersonal transaction from someone who likely got her job because of her looks. I don’t think the proprietors of these types of places realize the people they turn off because of their hiring practices. Am I against hiring babe-tastic bartenders? No way. I like gorgeous girls like any guy. But there are 2 problems here. The first I touched on before; hotness without personality or good manners is useless in any service industry. Secondly, female patrons feel left out. Some time back, I was working as a bouncer at a nightclub that employed mostly scantily clad ladies behind the bar. A female patron said to me “this is real nice for the guys but what about us girls?” She had a point. If a bar is set on hiring eye candy staff, then make it a two way street. Sexy guys and girls; make everyone happy, including the bar owner. I’ve heard so many bar owners complain that they need to pull in more female customers but they don’t know how. For starters, how about not having an all female bar staff. I’m sure that most women would like to be served by a charming stud then a pin-up princess.

Okay, enough ranting by me on this point. Oh, by the way, even though it was hot and even though McFadden’s is not actually an Irish pub, I still ordered a Jameson. And this was before I knew it was Irish heritage night. Still a shanty mick after all.

History of Irish Whiskey Part 3: The Comeback

Irish whiskey was at a very low point in the mid-twentieth century. Ireland was still a largely rural and economically unsophisticated country. Virtually all of the whiskey distilleries had had closed, and many whiskey brands were forced to consolidate just to survive. Major names like Jameson and Bushmills were often the only Irish whiskey available in American bars. The scarcity of Irish whiskey in the USA had resulted in an entire generation that had virtually no contact with uisce beatha. However, just as a confluence of factors caused Irish whiskey’s decline, a number of events would help to bring it back from the brink.

The sixties, seventies, and eighties witnessed their share of historic and groundbreaking events in America. As far as the alcoholic drinks arena was concerned these decades were real low points. People didn’t much care what they drank at bars and restaurants, by and large. Hardly anyone knew to “swirl and sniff” their wine, micro-brew beer was unheard of, and it didn’t matter how many years the scotch was aged. In the nineties, the drinking landscape really began to change for the better. A gourmet culture in food kicked into high gear, ushering in the nascent era of the celebrity chef. Americans wanted good booze to go along with their new taste for good food. Interest in wine, both domestic and international, took off with people learning the basic differences between grape varietals. The craft beer movement started as a very minor business in previous decades, but now began to grab major attention. Micro-brews became popular alternatives to standards like Coors and Budweiser. The spirits world also came along for the ride.

Starting in the 1990s the average American was looking to trade up from the usual liquor offerings. The basic call brands were no longer satisfactory; people wanted more interesting options. The rise of nationally known cocktail historians and celebrity mixologists, like David Wondrich and Tony Abou-Ganim, sparked an interest in quality drinks made with quality ingredients. Bartending became an exciting profession again, not just a dead-end job of popping beer tops and making endless gin-and-tonics. Of course, the phenomenal popularity of the HBO show Sex in the City led to an explosion of Cosmo-sipping young women. The launch of Grey Goose vodka created the trend of premium vodka for the masses. Newly affluent young men were turning to high-end scotch and small batch bourbon. Americans were drinking and drinking well.

As the saying goes, a rising tide lifts all ships, and Irish whiskey was certainly lifted in the rising tide of America’s alcohol renaissance. The drink of kings had been relegated to gathering dust on the back bars of America’s Irish pubs. But Irish whiskey came back in America; drinkers wanted more options at the bar and Irish whiskey was no exception. An expansion of interest in Irish heritage by a newly ascendant Generation X helped fuel the demand in both Irish beer and whiskey. Fortunately, the “Celtic Tiger,” the rip-roaring Irish economy, could satisfy America’s demand for uisce beatha. Ireland turned a major corner in the 1990s, with a modernized economy pulling the country full force into the 20th century. The Irish whiskey business took off as well, with new distilleries being built, old labels being revived, and new brands hitting the marketplace. International spirits behemoth Pernod Ricard bought the Irish Distillers Group in 1988, which included Jameson. Other, similar partnerships put Irish whiskies in the position to gain an unprecedented position in the market.

For those who remember the bad old days, the days when you could barely find anything besides Jameson or Bushmills outside of a major metro market, were thrilled to suddenly have access to so many new brands of Irish. Old standards in Ireland became new players in America; labels like Tullamore Dew, Powers, and Paddy. The Cooley Distillery, the only Irish-owned distillery, has been making its own original, award-winning whiskies for almost two decades now. Irish whiskey is a small segment of the overall American liquor market, but it is growing at a remarkable pace. Fans of uisce beatha are thrilled that it has come back so strongly and we hope that it continues to surge ahead. Just like the Irish people, Irish whiskey has been to the greatest heights, fallen to the worst nadir, only to climb back and impress its warmth and charm on whiskey drinkers the world over. Slainte!


Questions? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

A Brief History of Irish Whiskey: Part 2, The Decline

At the start of the 20th century, Irish whiskey was riding high. Uisce Beatha was enjoyed the world over by both the common man and the swell set. But just as Irish whiskey was taking its place in the upper echelon of the spirits world, a confluence of events was coming together to bring it crashing down.

Ireland’s hard and violent struggle for independence from Great Britain came to a head in the early 1900’s. Ireland finally achieved its freedom (mostly) from England in 1921. Most of Ireland, 26 out of 32 counties, became an autonomous, free state in December of 1921. The newly founded Republic of Ireland was met with punitive trade sanctions from its former master, England, immediately. Ireland’s export trade, including its whiskey exports, suffered greatly both from England’s reactionary trade policies and its own status as a newly developing country.
The passage of Prohibition in the United States in 1920 had a hugely deleterious effect on the international liquor trade in general, and the Irish whiskey business in particular. One of the biggest world markets for Irish whiskey went dry for 13 years. The sons and daughters of Eire who yearned for a taste of the ol’ uisce beatha in the USA had to content themselves with whatever could be run onto American shores by bootleggers.
Ireland’s economy, as well as its whiskey industry, suffered a series of setbacks throughout the first half of the 20th century. Ireland may have gotten free of British rule, but that also meant that the small, mostly rural country had to make its way in the international business scene with England actively thwarting its economic progress. The Irish whiskey business dropped off significantly; hundreds of distilleries closed, and only a few survived the culling.
The economic hardship of Ireland led to Irish whiskey becoming severely marginalized in what used to be its largest export market, the USA. After decades of hardship: Prohibition, the Great Depression, World War 2, Americans were ready to live the good life. After the end of WW2, Americans indeed lived it up, sparking a tremendous period of economic growth and prosperity. The booze business boomed after years of lean times. But Irish whiskey was left on the sidelines as Americans took to homemade Bourbon, easily accessible Canadian whiskey, and the Scotch that they picked up a taste for as GIs in the England. Whiskey was big in mid-20th century America, everything but Irish whiskey, anyway. Names like: Jack Daniels, Canadian Club, and Johnny Walker became the standard whiskey calls at bars across America, while names like Jameson and Powers were lucky to be an afterthought. A nation with millions of Irish immigrants and children of Irish immigrants could hardly get their hands of the whiskey of their ancestry.
Every type of alcoholic beverage had its shining moment in America at some point during the post WW2 era. Beer, wine, vodka, rum, scotch, bourbon, gin, and tequila all had their moments in the sun sometime between 1950 and 1990. But Irish whiskey was left out of the party. While choices abounded for enthusiasts of, say, Italian wine or Scotch, Irish whiskey was basically a choice between Jameson or Bushmills for most of the later 1900s. Getting a good dram of uisce beatha in the USA prior to 2000 required knowledge, patience, and dedication. But the Irish are not only used to hardship, they thrive on it, so it was only a matter of time before the many curses that plagued that Irish whiskey business were lifted. Irish Whiskey followed the script for Celtic existence; get beaten to a pulp and pushed to within an inch of extinction before roaring back and becoming everyone’s favorite underdog hero.

Question? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

The History of Irish Whiskey: Part 1

For those of you who enjoy a dram of the Irish here and again, you may ask yourself “what’s the story of Irish whiskey?” Some of you, like me, may wonder why Irish whiskey is such a small part of the liquor segment in general, and whiskey segment in particular, in the USA. After all, America boasts about 35 to 40 million citizens with Irish ancestry, which accounts for over 10 percent of our population. Compare that number with Ireland’s 6 million total inhabitants. So why has a country as sufficiently Irish as the United States only started to support a significant Irish whiskey consumer base in the last 10 years? You would think that Irish whiskey would be right up there in significance with Scotch and Bourbon. Why is Irish whiskey such a laggard in the brown spirits arena? To answer that question, let’s go back to the beginning and trace the rise and fall and rise again of uisce beatha.

THE BEGINNING

Firm dates are hard to come by, but it is generally accepted that Irish monks started to distill whiskey sometime in the 6th century AD. It is also generally accepted, though not by the Scottish, most likely, that the Irish exported their whiskey-making knowledge to Scotland. Over the next 1000 years, Irish whiskey became one of the leading alcoholic beverages in Europe. Fans of Irish whiskey include: Peter the Great, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Queen Elizabeth the First.

In the 1700s and 1800s Irish immigrants begin to immigrate to America in significant numbers. Both Scots-Irish Protestants and Irish Catholic immigrants bring their whiskey-making knowledge, both legally and illegally obtained, to America and Canada. Irish immigrants settle in areas like Kentucky and begin making whiskey using domestic grains and clear spring water, paving the way for America’s bourbon industry.

Irish whiskey continued to assert dominance the world over, and with the introduction of the Coffey Still in 1830, mass production becomes easier. Established Irish whiskey distillers with familiar names like Jameson and Powers send their wares out to be enjoyed by imbibers near and far.

In the mid-1800s, the potato famine causes a mass exodus of mostly Irish Catholic citizens to flee the Emerald Isle for the United States. The Irish immigrants bring with them to America a desire for their native spirit of uisce beatha (pronounced ISH-kee BA’ha). America then becomes a major market for Irish whiskey in the late 1800s and early 1900s. At this point in time, there are over 150 whiskey distilleries in Ireland and about 400 different labels of Irish whiskies available. Irish whiskey is, quite indisputably, one of the top dogs in the spirits world.

Delaware's Best Irish Pub

One of the better experiences one can have is going to a restaurant or pub that you have heard good things about and having an experience that surpasses all of your positive expectations. An even better situation is when you visit a new, completely unknown place and are so impressed that you ask, “where have you been all my life?” I had that experience with Stoney Lonen, a little place in Rehoboth Beach that may just be the best Irish pub in Delaware.

As a native Delawarean, I make my usual pilgrimages to the beach (that’s “the shore” if you’re from Jersey or Pennsylvania). I stop by Rehoboth a few times a summer and I have seen Stoney Lonen, but never had the opportunity to stop in. Their hours are limited: closed on Mon and Tues and they don’t open until 5 o’clock the other days, except Sunday when they open at 4. It always seemed that whenever I made a point to check the place out, it was closed. I actually started to get a little resentful, asking myself “who do these people think they are? I’m trying to have a spot of the ol’ uisce beatha and this friggin’ place is never open.” When I finally did make it in, I happily discovered what a gem Stoney Lonen really is.

The building itself is small, done up to resemble one of Ireland’s cottage-style pubs. Most likely the place used to be a house; many of Rehoboth’s in-town restaurants are converted homes. The exterior is painted an eye-catching green and yellow. The interior is small but cozy (and I mean cozy in the true sense, not as a realtor’s euphemism for cramped). There is the usual Irish bric-a-brac: pictures of old Eire, classic ad posters for Irish beers and whiskies. The bar is great, with dark wood and a low ceiling that invites civilized conversation rather than drunken rowdiness. The bar is relatively small, with about 10 stools and a few high top tables. It has a nice mellow atmosphere; an easy-going craic that will appeal to civilized adults looking for a quiet drink. The bartender, Chester, is a great guy. He’s the kind of bartender I like, unobtrusive but always ready with a great story when the opportunity presents itself. When my wife and I were recently there, he regaled us with all sorts of tales about his long career as a beach bartender.

What really puts Stoney Lonen over the top for me as an Irish pub is their whiskey selection. When I first walked into the place about a year ago, my eyes almost popped out of my head. The entire first shelf of the back bar was given over to Irish whiskey; 15 bottles in all, which is double what most other pubs carry. I’ve tried stuff there that I haven’t had the pleasure of drinking anywhere else. I had Connemara on my first visit (not bad, but too much peat, I call it shamrock scotch). On my recent visit I enjoyed: Tullamore 12, Jameson Gold Label, and Greenore 15. Great whiskies all, and all reasonably priced at $8 (I think a mistake was made with regard to the Greenore. Most likely the pricing is supposed to be for the standard 8 year old, not the premium 15 I was having. A good break for me). Chester was telling me that the owner deliberately set out to stock his bar with a wide variety of Irish whiskies. And it’s a fine sign for the state of Irish whiskey when a bar can carry 15 brands and still not have every Irish whiskey that’s available for purchase in Delaware. We’re a long way from “you can have any Irish whiskey you want, as long as it’s Jameson or Bushmills,” to paraphrase Henry Ford.

I’ll leave you with an anecdote that sums up why Stoney Lonen appeals to me so much When I was there on my recent visit, a customer came to the bar and asked for a higher-end scotch, something like Macallan. The bartender replied, “we don’t carry that, we’re really an Irish whiskey place.” Buddy, when I heard that I felt like yelling “Halleluiah” and dancing a jig on the bar. Finally, I found a pub that takes Irish whiskey as seriously as I do. Stoney Lonen makes me feel like less of an obsessed madman, ranting like a banshee in the wind that no one cares about uisce beatha. Well, maybe I’m still a bit of a ranting lunatic, but at least I’m not alone.


Paddy’s Grade: A

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

Tulla(more) in delaware

Good news for Irish whiskey lovers in Delaware because the First State has added a few new notches to its belt with regard to uisce beatha. Delaware has finally brought along the rest of the Tullamore Dew family, adding: TD 10, TD 12, and TD10 year old Malt to the mix. No longer do I have to cross the line into Maryland or Pennsylvania to get a Tullamore upgrade, or at least, not for much longer.

The newer Tullamore selections may be listed in Delaware’s wholesaler index catalogue, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they are available to purchase. I’ve only seen TD 12 on the shelf of 1 bar, and not on any liquor store shelves. Based on the wholesale price, I’m guessing that these 3 whiskies will retail for around $35-$40 a bottle. I’ve tried both the 10 and 12 year old version, and they are both good, the 12 being particularly nice. They have the same silky smoothness of regular Tullamore, but with more full-bodied oomph. I’m really looking forward to the 10 year-old Malt, and I’ll definitely be requesting it if I don’t see it on someone’s shelf soon. As a parting note, I’ll recommend TD 12 as a way to bring people over to the dark side of Irish whiskey. Use the smooth, full flavor of the 12 year-old to get your Scotch drinking compadres to join the Shanty Irish whiskey brigade.

In closing, Happy Memorial Day to all of you loyal readers, and let us all remember to honor those who gave their lives serving this great country of ours. I wish a very heartfelt thanks and slainte to all of America’s service personnel, past and present, living and dead, who we all owe our freedom too.

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Paddythepublican@gmail.com

Pub Review: Ri Ra

I mentioned in my last post that my contributions were pretty scarce for the month of April. Now that tax season and other obligations are behind me, I’m planning to step things up for May (I realize that waiting until the month is one-third of the way through for my first post isn’t exactly stepping things up, but I am trying, loyal readers). Anyway, I wanted my first post for the month to be a good one, so I decided to profile one of my favorite Irish pubs, RI RA.

Ri Ra is located in the Tropicana casino in Atlantic City, NJ. It opened in 2005 and is one of 10 Ri Ra locations in the United States, with the first having opened in Charlotte, NC in 1997 (all of this is according to their web site). For those of you who may recoil at the notion of drinking in a new, franchise place just relax. The Ri Ra in Atlantic City does almost everything right with regard to being an Irish pub. I’ve been to this location dozens of times over the past 6 years and I have never had a negative experience. I usually pop in for a few drinks and a burger on one of my Atlantic City day trips, but I’ve also had a sit down meal with my wife, and even made it one of my stops for my bachelor party. No matter what occasion has brought me through their doors, Ri Ra always delivers a good time.

The bar is of the Victorian style of Irish pubs: with high ceilings, tall mirrors, and stately murals. The pub is actually made mostly of parts brought over from the Henry Grattan Pub of Dublin (again according to the website). The Victorian style of Irish pub may be too fancy pants and intimidating to the casual drinker, but the atmosphere is inviting and comfortable. The place is beautiful, but still has the easy warmth that one is looking for in a pub. The bartenders are almost all from Ireland, which allows for some interesting conversation, and starting conversation is something that Ri Ra’s bartenders make a point to do. They engage their customers, but not in the superficial, my-company-is-making-me-do-this manner of a chain restaurant. The guys and gals behind the bar know their drinks and they know how to deliver great service. I am not alone in my laudatory comments about Ri Ra; it placed 6th in Tom Harran's "Top 10 Irish Pubs in America" in 2007.

The bar selection is top notch in general, and in particular with regard to my beloved uisce beatha. I counted 14 brands of Irish whiskey on my last visit (even Paddy!), with everything from the likeably rough-edged Powers to the $25 a shot Middleton Very Rare (an excellent dram, by the way). Of the many Irish bars I’ve been to, I can think of only 1 or 2 that carry such a selection of the Irish. The bartenders know their stuff too, being able to make recommendations of what is worth trying. The food is good as well, good portions at reasonable prices, which is no small feat for a restaurant located inside a casino.

I make it a point to stop into Ri Ra when I am in Atlantic City, even if I’m not visiting the Tropicana. Come to think of it, the East Coast’s gambling mecca might be the best place for this place. The bar lifts my spirits when I’m down money and makes me feel even sunnier about life when I am on a hot streak at the tables. If I could pick only 5 Irish pubs to enjoy a glass of whiskey at for the rest of my life, Ri Ra would certainly make the list.

Paddy’s Grade: A

Uisce Beatha: Paddy

I realize that I have been remiss in contributing to my blog, dear readers, begging your pardon. The first 2 weeks of April are always hectic for me, with 2 very important birthdays to celebrate, mine and my wife’s. Of course there is also tax season. Since I’m in the line of work where I wind up owing money, I wait until the last minute to do my filing and fork over my cash. With all that and more happening, I have not had the opportunity to get out there and visit any new and interesting bars. I figure I can write about the next best thing, new and interesting Irish whiskey.

Let’s talk Paddy, loyal readers; a whiskey I’ve mentioned previously. Paddy has gathered a bit of a cult following in the USA, given that it is genuinely good stuff and has not been available for sale on these shores. If you’ve had the good fortune to try Paddy prior to this past March, it’s likely because someone picked a bottle up at a duty-free store and was nice enough to share. Rich Nagle has been doing quite a bit of advocating for this brand at irishwhiskeyblog.com, even starting a Facebook page to create some grassroots momentum. Now that’s it is here, how does it taste? Pretty damn good.

I was concerned that the hype would create unrealistic expectations, but I was sufficiently pleased. The whiskey has a medium gold color and a soft nose. The taste manages to be both assertive and silky smooth. Paddy announces itself right off the bat in the mouth with a refined fullness that lends itself more towards Red Breast than Tullamore Dew. But like I said, it is very smooth, going down much easier than, say, Jameson. The balance is what really sets Paddy apart in my mind. The whiskey touches all the bases: fullness, good flavor, a little alcohol bite, but never sacrificing its easygoing, slow-sipping character. Every time I pour myself a glass, I really savor how good a whiskey this is, especially for the price. Paddy’s grade: B+

If you have the opportunity to try to bring someone over to the Irish whiskey camp, Paddy is the brand to do it with. It has more oomph to it then my beloved uber-mellow Tullamore Dew, but doesn’t have the put-some-hair-on-your-chest alcohol bite that you’ll get with Powers. Paddy is a little more expensive than your average Irish; I picked up a liter for $35. When the more traditional fifths start to go on sale here I assume they will sell for $30-$31. But if you’ve got the extra coin to spare, treat yourself to Paddy. By the way, this whiskey got its name from a legendary salesman in Ireland named Paddy Flaherty. This whiskey was originally produced under another name, but Paddy Flaherty blazed such memorable a path across Ireland’s pubs, buying bars full of whiskey drinkers drams of his wares, that people asked for “Paddy’s” whiskey. Flaherty’s sales methods were frowned upon by his superiors, but there is no arguing with public opinion, and Paddy Flaherty’s name is the one that graces the label of this fine whiskey. There’s a lesson there for all Irishmen; if you buy enough drinks for people, you too will be immortalized.

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Paddythepublican@gmail.com

Charm City scorecard

In my most recent posts documenting my St. Paddy’s Day trip to Baltimore, I promised to give the pubs I visited their grades. I think I gave them all adequate reviews, maybe a little light on details but I was under time constraints. Anyway, here’s the report card, loyal readers.

Mick O’Shea’s: This place made the best impression on me. It’s a great Irish-American pub that has everything I’m looking for: great selection, attention to detail (the mural of Ireland on their wall is awesome), and solid craic. A-

Tir Na Nog: This is one of those places where the sum is less than the whole of the parts. At first glance, the place looks good enough, with a really good Irish whiskey selection and an old-world décor. It’s big and spacious, but it’s also over-priced and has a hollow feeling. I’m not one who has a knee-jerk negative reaction to a newer place that is pre-packaged Irish, so to speak. Not every pub has the luxury of being around for 50 years with a proud display of well-worn artifacts and a worn out bar top. A place that is built to look like an old-fashioned Irish pub is okay by me, as long as there is a sincerity of purpose and the respect of tradition. Tir Na Nog just doesn’t have what it takes, no craic, which is a major deficiency especially on Saint Patrick’s Day. Craic at an Irish pub on 3/17 is like sex on Valentine’s Day, a gimme, and if you can’t lock it up, you are really doing something wrong. The décor was wrong as well. Lots of the pictures and posters looked like they were of mid-19th century England, rather than the auld sod. The Victorian American-Irish pubs usually are chock full of Irish stuff. Tir Na Nog looks like the Baltimore chapter of the American Anglo-phile Society decorated it. The place was all wrong in the details, and even though I’ll give a place extra credit for having such a good selection, Tir Na Nog just doesn’t have the stuff. C+

James Joyce Irish Pub: In my second post, I documented the difference between the Irish-American Pub and the American-Irish Pub. The former is primarily an American bar but is heavy on the Irish accents, while the latter explicitly references pubs from Ireland, what I call the “Cohan’s Effect” (from Cohan’s pub in The quiet Man). While Mick O’Shea’s is an excellent example of an Irish-American Pub, James Joyce Irish Pub is a terrific version of an American Irish Pub. The bar had everything you’d want from an Irish place on Saint Patrick’s Day, or any other day. James Joyce has lots of good whiskey and beer and a comfortable setting. The décor is very well put together. I particularly like the collage of Irish whiskey labels on the wall headed towards the restroom (I hang out in all the best places). The bar had a fun and lively feel, and I’m looking forward to a return visit to savor the atmosphere more fully. A-

The Blarney Stone: This place wasn’t on the itinerary, but I’m glad we came across it. It’s a laid-back, locals type place that still felt accessible and comfortable to a couple of out-of-towners like my wife and I. The selection is good, and the décor and craic are amenably low-key. The gigantic gavel hanging from the ceiling is both wonderfully distinctive and completely baffling. It’s just there, with no explanation attached. But The Blarney Stone seems like that kind of take-it-as-it-is pub, and it is all the better for it. B+

Slainte: In Gaelic, slainte means “cheers” and it’s a term that’s associated with good times. So this pub should probably change its name to “Fuck off, we’re a generic gin mill disguising ourselves as an Irish pub.” You might not be able to fit that on a standard bar shingle, but if the shoe fits. Slainte was my least favorite place in Baltimore, and not just because I got a glass of whiskey that tasted like soap. The bar just felt like a personality-deficient tourist trap that went with an Irish identity because the owners couldn’t think of anything better. The place might work fine as a meat-market drink factory for the 25-35 crowd, but an Irish pub it is not. My wife has no good words for it either, and us smart fellows know that our better halves are pretty perceptive about these matters. C-

So there you have it, dear readers, where to go, and not go, for the good craic in Charm City. More to come with future visits. Slainte!

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Paddythepublican@gmail.com

St Paddy's Day 2010, Part 2

When last we left our intrepid author, he was hoofing it through the streets of Baltimore, wife in tow, seeking the finest purveyors of craic and uisce beatha. We left off before with me leaving Tir Na Nog in the Inner Harbor feeling unsatisfied. We made our way over to Little Italy to take in the sights, like the fire hydrants painted in the colors of the Italian flag. I had the wife take my picture crouching next to one while a couple of paisanos, lounging on lawn chairs on the corner, looked on in amusement. Not only did we look like tourists, but tourists who were looking for kicks in Little Italy on Saint Patrick’s Day. My ethnic compass must have seemed off to them; I probably go to Chinatown to celebrate Oktoberfest.

It was time to get back on schedule. We got ourselves over to James Joyce Irish Pub. I will admit to being a bit wary about this place. I cannot stand James Joyce’s literature. I love to read, but Joyce’s stuff is just directionless mush about jelly-spined whiners. I know this is heresy to many, but I have taken many cracks at Joyce’s writings, and I just can’t make myself endure it. I think he’s vastly overrated in literary circles, partly because no one wants to risk being labeled an anti-intellectual heathen for daring to suggest that Joyce doesn’t deserve his vaunted status. Anyway, I entered the pub bearing his name with trepidation, but my fears were immediately quelled when I beheld the raucous good time before me. The place was completely packed, but in a good way. The bar was 2-3 deep of people just having a grand old time. I wedged myself into a tight opening, facing perpendicular to the bar, to order my drinks. With booze in hand, the missus and I set out to find a spot in the room where we could take a sip without accidentally elbowing someone in the kisser. The place had a great décor; it looked an oversized study or reading room (part of the literary motif inherent in the name, I assume). There was nothing really specific to Joyce that I could see; the bar could have easily been named The W.B. Yeats Pub or The Brendan Beehan Bar (extra points for alliteration). The establishment is heavy on the dark wood and imitation bookshelves. The bar itself is large and well stocked with Irish whiskey. It seems like the kind of place that is fun on a packed day like St. Paddy’s, but also nice to visit for a quiet drink during the week. There was live music, an Irish dancer with bagpipe accompaniment, and a general feeling of high-level craic. The pub made a very good impression on us and I definitely want to return.

After leaving James Joyce, we headed over to Fells Point and found The Blarney Stone. It was less crowded than the other places we’d been to and we were able to actually get a seat at the bar. The more relaxed atmosphere was a nice break from the mob scene we’d been encountering. The place has the feel of a local watering hole, a neighborhood bar. The selection was good and the staff treated us well. They have a good décor, kind of an honest mish-mash of Irish-themed stuff. There’s a humongous gavel hanging from the ceiling for no apparent reason. The Blarney Stone looks like the kind of place where adults go to drink, a place that doesn’t cater to the hip crowd or the amateur drinkers. It’s nothing spectacular, just a good, honest Irish-American pub.

At the end of my last post, I promised a tale of a drunken man engaging in lewd behavior. Far be it from me to disappoint. When my wife and I left The Blarney Stone, a drunken fellow commented on my Irish-themed apparel. I confirmed for him that not only was I of Irish descent, but my name was also Patrick. The guy’s face took on the look of total credulity and utter wonderment that only the very inebriated are capable of over a relative pedestrian fact. (Encountering a guy named Patrick on St. Paddy’s Day is hardly extraordinary; the odds might be more remote when celebrating the Chinese New Year. In China). The drunk then proceeded to use the green plastic beer bong tube he was holding in a most lewd fashion (i.e. he was stroking it). I told him that I wasn’t interested in such a display but if he took his act to the internet, there is certainly money to be made with such behavior. His friends dragged him off to another bar, and we went on our way.

The last Irish bar we found ourselves in was Slainte, and it was the most disappointing of the bunch. It’s hard for me to put my finger on, but the place just didn’t feel like an Irish pub. Sure, it had a half-decent selection, and there was Irish bric-a-brac, and soccer games on TV (not part of my barometer for Irishness, this is still America, after all). The place just felt off to me and even with a crowd, no true craic was evident. It didn’t help that the Jameson 12 I ordered tasted like soap. Something about the glass I guess. Putting the whiskey into a paper cup didn’t help matters, so I choked it down and decided not to risk getting a second round. The bar had a 2nd floor, which was also Irish looking, and a 3rd floor which had a Tiki theme and a nice view over Fells Point. The bar’s identity was all over the place, and the even though the first 2 floors looked the part of an Irish pub, the vibe was very different. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like those movies you see about Prohibition-era speakeasies. The place is a rollicking bar at first, but then someone presses the secret buzzer to alert everyone that the cops are raiding the place. So the walls turn around, and the bar spins around and becomes a bookcase, and the bandstand flips over to reveal a fake fireplace. Slainte just felt like something else that was imitating an Irish pub, and I didn’t care for it. The place might be a decent enough place to pass the time; but as far as being a good Irish pub, Slainte is a bust.

That was the last stop we made in Baltimore before we decided to call it a day. With all of the walking we did, it was hard for me to maintain even a buzz. I got nowhere near the blurry-eyed drunkenness I experienced the previous Saint Patrick’s Day. But we still had a great time and visited some excellent pubs. I’m really looking forward to visiting Charm City again to revisit the places I enjoy and to try out some good new places. Here’s hoping that all of your St. Paddy’s Day experiences, dear readers, were as full of merriment and craic as mine were. Slainte!

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Paddythepublican@gmail.com

St. Patrick's Day 2010 TR: part 1

I hope all of you loyal readers thoroughly enjoyed your Saint Patrick’s Day’s festivities. Whether you drank yourself silly the whole day or just wore a green shirt to work I hope the day was grand. If I had only one word to sum up my Saint Patrick’s Day 2010, it would be, smooth. Everything went well, no drama, no hiccups, and no laws broken. The wife and I went to Baltimore to frequent some of their Irish pubs (I didn’t lay out logistics as well as I should have, so more comprehensive return trip is certainly in order). We hadn’t been to Balto in while, and we really enjoyed ourselves, just a great town.

Now I want to digress for a moment to address what I think is an interesting new problem. Which of your beloved techo-toys do you trust more? It sounds like a quiz show. You see, my wife doesn’t like the fact that I’m a typical man in that I drive by feel and don’t stop and ask for directions. I’m happy to waste time driving around in aimless circles, like an old-school cabbie running up your fare, rather than ask for help. However, I will print out online directions when going to an unfamiliar location. The last time we went somewhere, I went off-script from the Google directions because I thought I knew better, and we got lost. For this trip, I planned to follow the Google directions to the letter and not improvise. As we get closer to Baltimore my wife starts plotting our course into the GPS feature on her phone. It turns out that her Sprint phone has a different route in mind for us than the Google directions. So, we have two technologies having a digital difference of opinion. What to do? My wife wanted to go with her GPS course, but I stubbornly insisted on sticking with the Google plan. No improvisation, remember? We got to our destination without incident, but it seems that if we followed the GPS, we would have gotten there quicker and without the detour through some of Baltimore’s scenic urban blight. So I decided to follow the map, and still wound up being, well, not wrong, but wrong-ish. Sometimes, you just can’t win.

Back to business then. The weather was gorgeous, so we parked the car and did all of our bar-hopping on foot. The amount of walking we did certainly contributed to my inability to maintain a buzz. Unlike my trip to Philly’s South street last Saint Patrick’s Day, where there’s an Irish pub just about every 30 feet. Even holding to a one-drink-per-bar guideline (a loose guideline at that) I was trashed before we went 5 blocks in Philadelphia. Since Balto’s Irish bars are more spread out, my legs got the workout rather than my liver. We started at Mick O’Shea’s, which is a great place. It had it all: great selection, good service, solid décor, and craic to spare. Mick’s is a top-notch Irish pub that I’m really looking forward to visiting again. And I finally got to try Paddy’s Irish whiskey! Paddy’s has gotten a bit of a cult following in the States (paging Rich Nagle of irishwhiskeyblog.com) primarily because it’s good, and has only just become available for distribution in America. The only way to get your hands on Paddy was through foreign purchase or at a duty-free shop. The taste couldn’t live up to the hype, but it is good whiskey, smooth and savory. I will do more detailed reviews of both Mick’s and Paddy’s in future posts.

After leaving Mick’s, we hoofed it almost a mile to the harbor to try out Tir Na Nog. It’s a grand-looking place with a great selection of whiskey. However, their prices are a bit steep. A Harp draft and a Tullamore Dew 12 neat cost me 19 bucks. Compare those prices to the $7 I paid at Mick’s for a draft of Sam and a Paddy’s. TD 12 is a better grade of whiskey than Paddy’s, but it’s not that much better. I feel like I fell right into a tourist trap, but I guess it’s carpe diem when you’re spending money in Baltimore’s main tourist attraction. Putting the drink prices aside, I wasn’t a fan of Tir Na Nog; it had a good look but it had a weirdly antiseptic quality. No craic to speak of, and if you can’t manage some craic on Saint Paddy’s Day, then you’re failing somehow as an Irish pub. It wasn’t a bad place, but I have no desire to make a return visit (even if someone else is buying the drinks).

I’ll leave the trip report at that for now, dear readers. Part two will be coming soon, featuring more boozing and an encounter with a drunk guy using giveaway bar swag in a vulgar, but amusing, manner. Slainte!

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

'Twas the night before St. Patrick's

‘Twas the night before St. Patrick’s and all through the pub
I was slugging straight whiskey and snarfing bar grub
Then what to my booze-soaked eyes should appear
But St. Patrick himself, sipping green beer
It didn’t seem right, this saint getting lit
So I staggered over to give him some shit
“You may be a saint and can do as you wish
But it isn’t right, you drinking like a fish
Boozing is fine for us earthly sort
But a saint should have a more regal comport
I don’t begrudge an Irishman his brew
But I expect more saintly conduct from you”
I finished my speech, feeling full of grace
When Saint Paddy punched me square in the face
As I lay on the floor holding my head
St. Patrick roared loud enough to raise the dead
“I’m not the ghost of St. Patrick you drunk slob
I play him in the parade, and my name’s Bob
I’ve been walking and waving for over 3 hours
So I’m ready for a beer and a shot of Powers
I’ve had bratty kids yanking my robe
While walking in sandals on a cobblestone road
I’m tired and sore and just want a rest
So go back to your stool you drunken pest”
With that he stormed out the front door
Leaving me laid out on the beer-soaked floor
I picked myself up and went back to my stool
Feeling sheepish and stupid, a world-class fool
If there’s a moral here that I can extract
Keep your mouth shut around a beer-swilling Saint Pat

Good Irish Links

Don’t be misled by the title, this post isn’t about golf courses. I’m giving credit to some other sites out there that put out quality information about things of the Irish persuasion.

www.irishwhiskeyblog.com

This is a good site written by Irish whiskey enthusiast Rich Nagle. Rich has apparently sampled, and written about, every Irish whiskey brand known to man. He posted about a recent trip to Ireland where he got to try some of the more exotic stuff that you can’t find in the States. If he keeps the pace up, he’ll run out of Irish whiskey to try and will be reduced to prowling Ireland’s backwaters doing tastings of illicit poteen.

www.irishwhiskeynotes.com

This is an Ireland-based site that is also devoted to the uisce beatha. Because this site is based on the old sod, they have access to more stuff than what we have here. Reading this site will make you create a bucket list of obscure whiskey to try if you ever get yourself over to the Emerald Isle.

www.irishwhiskeysociety.com

A group of whiskey enthusiasts in Ireland created a society dedicated to, well, what else? This isn’t just some casual collection of whiskey drinkers meeting for the occasional dram; these people mean business. Their organization has: a written constitution, an elected executive board, a schedule of events, and a chat forum. This is a good source of information for what’s new in the Irish whiskey world.

www.bostonirishpubs.com

The name seems self-explanatory, but the site is really devoted to Boston Irish-American culture in general, not just pubs. The pub section isn’t that informative, it’s just a collection of links, but it’s better than nothing. It’s a useful guide to Irish stuff in America’s most Irish city.

www.aoh.com

The Ancient Order of Hibernians is one of America’s oldest Irish organizations. It is an Irish-Catholic fraternal organization devoted to charity work and Irish fellowship. Their site is full of interesting links and information about the Irish. They also have divisions in every state if you are interested in joining.

Falling for the McShake Trap

So I did my duty today as an American consumer and ran out and got myself a Shamrock Shake from McDonald’s. Like many people, I realized “hey, those green shakes are only on sale through St Paddy’s Day, so I better hurry up and get one.” You may be asking, so what? Plenty of people get the green shake, big deal. But I just finished my shake and I had an epiphany, I’m a sucker. Not just that, but a consistent sucker.

The Shamrock milkshake demonstrates the triumph of marketing over reason. The McShake isn’t really all that good. I know it has legions of fans that salivate over its annual appearance like tween girls at a Jonas brothers concert. But it really doesn’t do much for me. It’s not terrible, but it isn’t anything special. The shake is basically just mint chocolate ice cream gone runny and soft. So why did I make a special detour to get the Shamrock Shake today? Why do I snobbishly turn my nose up at the golden arches all the rest of the year, but dutifully make the March pilgrimage for the Irish milkshake? It’s simple. I have fallen victim to the magic of the holiday themed Limited Time Offer (LTO). As far as seasonal LTO’s go, the Shamrock Shake is the king.

Part of the appeal of the LTO is that it is limited. You can only get said item within a certain time frame, so hurry! Act now! Call today! What’s even better for McDonald’s is that they build loyalty with their Shamrock Shake; people get excited when it’s time for them to roll back out every March. To top it all off, the Shamrock Shake is built around a major ethnic pride holiday. When you combine all of those factors, it’s almost irrelevant whether the shake tastes good or not. In fact, I forget from year to year how exactly they do taste. I just know that it’s minty and sweet, which I like in theory. And the LTO shake taps into the celebratory feeling I get around Saint Patrick’s Day. A green shake? Hell yeah, I’m in. Does it taste good? Who cares?

The Shamrock Shake reminds me of deviled eggs. When I was a kid, there was always at least one summer picnic my family went to where deviled eggs were offered. And deviled eggs look so good, so tempting. So I’d pick one up, take a bite, and almost gag. Deviled eggs are disgusting, but because I’d only have them on a few summer occasions, I’d forget. It took a few summers before I finally etched it in my brain that deviled eggs=vile snack item. The thing about the Shamrock Shake is that it isn’t disgusting, though, which makes the situation more problematic. It is agreeable enough to drink, but I don’t really like it. But since a whole year passes until I’ll get another one, I only remember that I don’t hate it.

So it goes every March; the Shamrock Shake comes back, and I feel compelled to get one. Then I do, and I feel like a sucker. I fall prey to McDonald’s Irish LTO milkshake mojo like clockwork. Maybe next year, I’ll wise up. Sure. And maybe beer companies will stop using large-breasted women in their commercials. Hold out hope for me loyal readers that I may get the green monkey off my back come March 2011.


Questions? Comments? Suggestions? paddythepublican@gmail.com

The Quiet Man

The Quiet Man has become the cinematic standard-bearer for Saint Patrick’s Day, much like A Christmas Story is for Christmas and The 10 Commandments is for Easter. There are plenty of movies about Ireland and the Irish, but The Quiet Man is the leader of the pack simply because it is a great film.

When the film came out in 1952, both director John Ford and star John Wayne had cemented their roles as Hollywood icons. However, this film had the studio executives nervous because it strayed off the path of success that the two Johns had blazed. Instead of a fast-paced western, we had an easy-going romantic dramedy set in a bucolic Irish village. The studio people had nothing to worry about; The Quiet Man was a hit, earning several Oscar nominations, and securing a spot as America’s most beloved film about the Irish.

This is one of my favorite films, and this is the kind of movie I think of when people say “they don’t make them like they used to.” The Quiet Man defies easy classification: it’s not a romantic comedy, even though there is a love story and plenty of laughs. It’s not an action movie either, even though the film ends with one of Hollywood’s most classic brawls. The Quiet Man is just a terrific film, period. John Ford knows how to tell a story, how to shoot a film (the Irish landscape looks fantastic), and how to fill out a cast. Maureen O’Hara gives a career-defining performance as the fiery Mary Kate Danaher. John Ford also gets top-quality performances out of his stable of regular character actors: Ward Bond, Victor McLaglen, and most notably, Barry Fitzgerald. And for those people out there who think that Duke Wayne couldn’t act, this is the film to see to change your mind. John Wayne does a great job with his role, deftly jumping from humor to pathos to righteous anger. You don’t have to be Irish to like this film, and you don’t even have to watch it around Saint Paddy’s Day to enjoy it. But if you haven’t seen The Quiet Man yet, do yourself a favor and watch this true Hollywood classic.

Uisce Beatha: Red Breast

I wrote yesterday that I would start reviewing some Irish whiskey, which is not a bad task to have since it involves going out and drinking a glass (at least) of uisce beatha. So I went out and had myself a glass of Red Breast. This whiskey is a 12 year-old, pure pot still whiskey. Pot still is significant because it is a more labor-intensive and expensive distilling process, as opposed to continuous still, and pot still generally results in more robust, flavorful whiskey. Red Breast is certainly robust, as far as Irish whiskey is concerned. Now, that’s not to say that it veers into Scotch territory of peat and smokiness. Red Breast has full flavor while still maintaining the typical smoothness associated with Irish whiskey. It also doesn’t have the sharp bite of alcohol that one associates with cheaper whiskey.

A common term used to describe Red Breast is “oily” which I found a bit strange at first. But “oily” is a very apt description for the way that this whiskey envelops your mouth. Red Breast has a stickiness to it in the way it really lingers after you’ve swallowed it. Red Breast has a nice burn when it goes down; you can really sense it moving down your chest. It manages this “burn” without sacrificing any of its mellowness. It’s a perfect cold weather dram, with a warm firmness that’ll chase the chill away. Balance is another good term to describe Red Breast. Some Irish whiskey veers too far in one direction or another, sacrificing one characteristic for another. For instance, regular Jameson is certainly robust, but that is the case mostly because it has that harsh punch to it, not managing to smooth off its rough edge. Red Breast doesn’t sacrifice anything: it’s robust and smooth, assertive without being overpowering or harsh.

One should definitely enjoy this whiskey neat. The experts suggest a dash of cold water to open up the flavors, which I won’t dispute, but I’ll caution that at most bars, a dash is usually quite a bit more than that. Unless you really know and trust your bartender to measure well for you, you are better off taking this stuff straight. And if you find yourself sitting next to a Scotch snob at a bar who won’t lower himself to drink Irish whiskey because it is not “complex” enough, buy him a glass of Red Breast. The snob should then stand you to a glass of it to show his appreciation for introducing him to something so good.

Paddy’s Grade: A-

How Paddy grades whiskey

Since I write a good bit about how enthusiastic I am about Irish whiskey, and how much it annoys me if a bar doesn't carry enough of it, I figured I should include some whiskey reviews. Since it's March and people may be inclined to be adventurous and try something new, I'll work some whiskey reviews into the mix. But first, I should lay out what my grading system is. One man's C+ is another man's B. Now I don't want to claim to be an expert taster on the matter; I probably don't have the refined palate that people who can find "hints of aged tobacco, dried leather, and lemon peel" in a glass of whiskey. I just know what I like, and I'll try to communicate it to the readers. Additionally, I'd like to give a nod to a blog that's has been fighting the good fight with regard to championing the cause of Irish whiskey here in the USA. "Slainte: the Irish Whiskey Blog" features ratings and reviews on the matter of Irish whiskey, found at irishwhiskeyblog.com. The blogmaster, Rich Nagle, has tasted all kinds of Irish, and he writes about it all with unfussy aplomb. Anyway, here's my grading system for Irish whiskey (or any liquor).

A+: An ineffable masterpiece, a perfect construct of uisce beatha, it also tastes pretty damn good

A: A superb dram, magnificence in a glass, use for toasts on truly special occasions

A-: Greatness that’s worth every penny, top-notch craftsmanship that should be savored slowly, any flaws are so minor that they’re barely worth mentioning

B+: Really good whiskey, the kind that is your everyday whiskey if you can afford it, maybe a little lacking or overdone in some regard, but close to greatness

B: The everyday dram for enthusiasts who want a little more out of their whiskey, has plenty going for, and not too much going against it, if it’s the best option on a back bar you’ll be content

B-: Suitable for regular quaffing, the good outweighs the bad, although it flirts with mediocrity, a good choice if your connoisseur’s palate is distracted by fried food or lengthy conversation

C+: Whiskey that’s drinkable but you wish you had better, the flaws are apparent, although there’s enough redeeming quality to make it more or less worth the price. Usually the best you can do given meager selection

C: The working definition of mediocre; not that good, not too bad. A good choice if you need a dram to linger over, because you sure won’t be in a rush to slug this stuff down. Not good enough to savor, but a little too good to spit on the floor

C-: A whiskey that fails by trying to do too much, or doesn’t do enough. Barely drinkable, the kind of stuff you’ll settle for if your other options are equally underwhelming. The sort of whiskey you’ll definitely not order a second round of unless you’re having a really bad day.

D: Simply bad stuff, the kind of whiskey you’ll have to mix with seltzer or use for Irish coffee just to choke it down. If you’re really hankering for a glass of the Irish, and it’s your only choice, you’ll probably get bourbon instead.

D-: Truly rancid liquor. The only reason you won’t spit this stuff onto the floor is because you’re in polite company. The kind of drink you buy for someone who needs a comeuppance.

F: Absolute swill. No redeeming value whatsoever. You’ll taste this and wonder if monkeys were secretly using the sherry casks for restrooms. Tasting this garbage will make you understand why some people get irrevocably turned off by whiskey.

A pub in decline

March, or Saint Paddy’s month depending on your perspective, in upon us so I decided that I really need to ramp up the contributions to my blog. After all, this is the time that people of Irish extract, and those who aren’t (poor, unlucky souls) zero in on all things Irish to celebrate the season. (I like that term extract to describe someone’s ethnic background. I just picture someone squeezing an old-fashioned wine press and holding the liquid up to the Sun for inspection. “Yep, that’s some top quality Irish extract there.” A bizarre and random thought, perhaps, but isn’t that part of the reason people start blogs? That reason and also because they can’t find a publisher or get a job as a journalist). Anyway, back to business. I was hoping to start the month off with a bang; chronicling a top-notch pub that I can give high marks to. However, I have to work with what I have, and what I have an Irish pub right around the corner from me that I feel obligated to address.

A Piece of Ireland (Newark, DE) is unlike some of the other pubs I’ve recently chronicled. Some places I go a little easier on because they have untapped potential, or their flaws are offset by their strong points. Unfortunately, the inverse is true of A Piece of Ireland; I have to be a bit harsher with it because it is suffering a noticeable decline in quality with no apparent offset. If I were writing this review a year or two ago, I would be telling the tale of one of the best Irish pubs in the whole state of Delaware. Back then, the bar had a great selection, lots of live Irish music, and a general feel of an establishment that knew its identity and worked hard to maintain it. But lately, things have been on a slide at A Piece of Ireland.

I’ll start by highlighting what is still good about the place, and I will say that, on the whole, A Piece of Ireland is a good bar/restaurant. First off, I have always had excellent service; the bartenders have always been prompt, friendly, and knowledgeable. I’ve never been faced with some rookie barkeep that thinks every single liquor drink is supposed to come with a lime wedge garnish. (Note to entry-level bartenders, don’t put fruit on the edge of a glass holding good whiskey; it makes us experienced drinkers angry). Consistently good service is a rare enough thing these days, to receive it year in and year out from a bar is quite an accomplishment and my hat’s off to A Piece of Ireland.

The atmosphere is evocative of a traditional Irish country pub; with the dark wood exterior, white walled interior with short stools by the fireplace. There are the de rigueur pictures of Irish scenes and people along with framed poems and sayings from the literary children of old Eire. The actual bar isn’t of the dark wood variety, but that’s a good thing, considering that it wouldn’t match the light interior. It’s nice to see a place that demonstrates that is more than one Irish pub model to build on; they don’t all have to be dark wood, vaulted ceilings, and mirror backed bars.

That’s the good news, now the bad news, which is that A Piece of Ireland is slowly losing its Irish pub identity and is starting to look more and more like a basic local sports bar. They haven’t been adding any new Irish accents to their repertoire, but only losing them. Not too long ago, the pub had the best Irish whiskey selection of any Irish pub in the area. There used to be about a dozen Irish whiskies on hand, being the only place where I could order, say, Knappouge Castle. But they haven’t had Knappougue available for over a year, and I’ve seen Michael Collins, Jameson 18, and other labels slip away, not to be replaced. On my most recent visit, they had: Jameson, Jameson 12, Powers, Bushmills, Tullamore Dew, and Red Breast. I asked a bartender recently what the story was, and he said that they should still be carrying some of the stuff, but the other stuff is too expensive and they don’t get many calls for it. He pointed out some 12 year-old scotches that were selling well. I said, “tell people it’s an Irish place and they should try the Irish stuff out.” People think that I’m a bit fanatical on this point; the idea that Irish pubs have a responsibility to not only carry a wide range of Irish whiskies and beers, but to suggestively sell those items to their customers. People appreciate having bartenders recommend new drinks for them to try, and if you run an Irish pub, you should hire people who will create a demand for Irish items. If you can’t find Irish whiskey at an Irish pub, what do you do then?

In sum, A Piece of Ireland loses big points in my book for moving backwards with regard to their selection, carrying only half of what they used to in the whiskey department. And I don’t buy that cost is the only factor. On a recent visit I spotted a bottle of 10 Cane rum, which is very good but somewhat pricy rum. I find it hard to believe that this place sells a whole lot of this premium rum, but cannot move Michael Collins in any significant quantities. Maybe I’m making the situation too complicated, maybe it’s not someone with the green eyeshades and a calculator deciding what bar items make the cut. It could be that whoever does the liquor ordering just doesn’t care.

Okay, so the place is letting its selection slide, but it is a good place to have a drink? Well, yes and no. Like I said before, it’s a nice-looking place with consistently excellent service. But A Piece of Ireland certainly doesn’t have craic. It’s tough to put my finger on why exactly a place doesn’t have craic, but like the judge said about pornography, I know it when I see it. In the case of A Piece of Ireland, I know when I don’t see it. Maybe it’s the clientele. I generally don’t like to knock a bar’s customers, but there have been too many times when I’ve been in the place and have wished there were more bar stools between me and the people near me. Now, I’m not a squeamish or prudish person and I can handle rough language and colorful characters, but some people just put me off. For instance, people who can’t keep their hands off each other. Come on, grow up and get a room. I don’t want to see a couple of disgusting rednecks groping and tongue-kissing while I’m having a drink with my wife. Not all the patrons are trashy, but not discouraging low behavior in a bar contributes to the rot.

The scorecard for A Piece of Ireland: B-.
It may seem that I’m being too hard on this place, but as I said at the beginning, I’m going to have tougher words on a bar that was really good but is currently in decline. A Piece of Ireland should not be content to let itself go downhill. It used to be a real quality Irish pub, and it can be again if someone makes the effort to turn it around.

Paddy in Philly Part 2

In a previous post I wrote about my trip to the Atlantic City location of The Irish Pub. Even though their Irish whiskey offerings were on the slim side, I gave them overall
high marks due to the bar’s outstanding décor and craic. The 2 Philadelphia locations of The Irish Pub do not rate so highly in this writer’s opinion. I’ll start with the 20th and Walnut location. This place did nothing for me. The Irish whiskey (and beer) selection was just as limited as the AC location, but without the atmosphere to save it. The place seemed generic and colorless; I’ve been to several Bennigans with more character. The music was ridiculously loud. I know I’m an old-fashioned curmudgeon, but seriously, does a local-style pub with all of 25 patrons on a Wednesday night need to crank the jukebox to ear-splitting levels? People were literally yelling at each other to be heard. I’ve been in the bar business for awhile, and energy is not something a bar can magically create just by pumping the decibel level to “10.” Inch the volume up as the crowd gets bigger, otherwise, let people have a civilized conversation for the love of all that is good and right. After all, an Irish pub should encourage conversation and the “talking of a little treason.” The only incident of note that occurred here was that a drunken patron told me that his buddy was in Rocky. This guy told that his friend was in a scene, and the friend proudly acknowledged his contribution to celluloid posterity by drunkenly nodding and slurring something I couldn’t make out. I’m sure I said something polite and non-committal while making sure that I was moving in the opposite direction. This was a situation that almost anyone who has ever been to a bar has experienced. You ask yourself “what is it about me that makes this drunk person feel the need to approach me with outlandish nonsense?” You find yourself at a bar, not doing anything to draw attention to yourself, and suddenly you have a drunken stranger giving you the lowdown on a subject you couldn’t give a damn about. I will say that these situations are usually the good for a story, and the bar scene would be poorer without unsolicited, drunken conversation. Just par for the course. Aside from this encounter, my impression of The Irish Pub on 20th was wholly unremarkable and underwhelming. I give it a C, it’s not really a bad place, just not that good.
My experience at the 12th and Walnut location of The Irish Pub was certainly the most satisfying of the evening. The place was more spacious than its 20th street sister, and the selection was better, too. I had the choice of both Red Breast and Tullamore 12 (I opted for the 12, mostly because I can’t get it in Delaware) in addition to the usual suspects I’ve mentioned before. This was the best pub of the 3 I had visited, but still not the equal of its AC sister. Alas, the craic was still not in evidence (say that phonetically to someone about a bar and see what kind of looks you get). The place had the Irish tchotckes (my personal favorite an “Al Smith for President” poster), but it didn’t have the feel. Everything was too orderly, the décor didn’t have the endearingly cluttered look of the Atlantic City location. Even thought there was a respectable crowd there, the atmosphere had that polarized, high school cafeteria feel (happy hour yuppies here, drink special-seeking college kids over here, hipster, craft beer types over there). The place wasn’t bad, but I just can’t see myself going back unless I happened to be nearby and really needed an eye-opener, and didn’t want to drive any further. Lest you think I’m being rashly judgmental, I think most of us know that a pub’s criac factor is readily apparent. I consider myself a good judge of pubs, like some people are good judges of character. The first impression is usually the right one; what seems like a good bar is usually a good bar, and vice versa. I’ll give this location of The Irish Pub a B-, decent enough but nothing special.
None of the places I visited on my recent trip to Philly seemed like they were good Irish pubs. But Philly has plenty of other bars on offer; good places like the spots I visited last Saint Patrick’s Day. While this most recent trip may not have borne criac-laden fruit, I’m sure that future trips to Philly will provide me with more positive things to write about. Of course, suggestions are always welcome. Help me out, dear readers! Let me know what I’m missing. Post in the comments section or better yet; e-mail me with suggestions at paddythepublican@gmail.

Paddy in Philly Part 1

Since I’ve started this blog about Irish pubs, I feel an obligation to try to keep it current. So I took an uncharacteristically impulsive trip to Philadelphia on a weekday evening to hit some bars and come up with some material. I went to some “name” Irish pubs in the city of brotherly love, and I came away feeling less than fulfilled. The pubs didn’t do much for me, but at least I got a few slugs of respectable Irish whiskey in me.
My first stop was McGillin’s, which is on record as being the oldest continuously operating tavern in Philly, according to its website. The website also records the accolades it has received in the past, which includes Philly’s best Irish pub, an assertion I can seriously dispute after two minutes of being in the place. I arrived at the bar about 8 o’clock on a Wednesday, and the place was ridiculously packed. I’ll say right off the bat that a place that is as inaccessible as McGillin’s (tucked in a center city alley with no dedicated parking) and still manages to attract a big crowd on a winter weekday night is doing something right. As the Irish say, Good on Ye! The service was prompt and cordial and the bleached blonde bartender knew what Tullamore Dew neat meant without having to ask (if you think I’m being sexist, I’ve heard from several women that they don’t trust attractive, big-bosomed bartenders to know anything about tending bar, they usually get hired for other attributes). This bartender was confidant and knowledgeable, no silly flirting to mask weak bar knowledge. I’ll give the place high marks for Irish décor: plenty of pictures, signs, and other assorted bric-a-brac. The place has the lived-in look of a bar that’s been around since the Civil War era.
However, McGillin’s is missing 2 crucial elements: selection and craic. The Irish whiskey selection is not good; only 5 representatives of the usice beatha and all crowded around the same price point: Jameson, Bushmill’s, Tullamore Dew, Michael Collins, and Feckin’. A place this busy and with the (relative) diversity of clientele I saw can’t spring for something a little more high-end? No Red Breast, Tullamore 12, or Jameson 12? Yes, I know I’m beating my overly dead horse, but let’s see a little effort people. St. Paddy’s Day is right around the corner, and not everyone wants to drink whatever draft is on special and “fuggin’ Jaeger bombs.” And as far as craic goes, it wasn’t in evidence on my visit. I know that craic is a subjective matter, but to me, McGillin’s didn’t have it. The place was crowded and loud, but I can get that scene at any number of just-post-college bars or yuppie taverns anywhere. Granted, the place was so crowded that I couldn’t find a decent spot to stand by and survey the place. I took a quick walk through the 2 floors, slugged down my whiskey, jotted a few notes, and left. To be fair, I’ll give McGillin’s an I for Incomplete based on my visit. I feel that in fairness to the place and my readers, I need to make a follow-up trip that allow me to more fully absorb the bar. However, I have learned through my years to trust my first impressions, and my first impression of McGillin’s is not too positive.

The Irish Pub in AC

I went to Atlantic City this past weekend, and no, I didn’t win any money. I lost a little thanks to cold cards and bad luck at poker (I might have played a little bad, too). But I did get to pop into some of my favorite spots. I had lunch at Bill’s, the place festooned with dollar bills that serves up a great gyro. I had an excellent martini at Red Square, a well-appointed but comfortable place in the Tropicana. And I made a stop at The Irish Pub.

The Irish Pub has probably my favorite décor of any Irish pub I have been in. Fancy-pants know-it-alls will probably knock the place for being tacky, out-dated, and cluttered, but that’s what’s so great about it. The whole bar and restaurant are packed with early 20^th century Americana bric-a-brac, with an Irish slant. The place is decorated with: sports memorabilia, boxing gloves hanging from the ceiling, pictures of Jack Dempsey, “No Irish Need Apply” plaques, you name it. I could be wrong, but the bar looks like it was decorated with collectibles acquired during the life of the pub, honest artifacts found at rummage sales and flea markets. The bar has the dark wood and brass accents; it looks like a classic Irish-American pub, the kind of place you’d film a scene in that calls for “an authentic Irish bar with local color” in the shooting script. The place was established in 1972, but it looks older, and I mean that in a good way. It has a scuffed-up charm to it, and draws an unpretentious crowd of regulars. I haven’t encountered any of the obnoxious, loudmouth trash that you usually have to contend with at other Atlantic City bars.

My only complaint is, predictably, the limited Irish whiskey selection. Only 5 whiskies were available, and they didn’t carry Michael Collins anymore, which I had the last time I visited. I asked for Red Breast, which they didn’t have, but bartender asked if it lived up to the hype he was hearing. I gave it an enthusiastic endorsement, so maybe it will find it’s way onto their shelf. Irish whiskey is a fast-growing liquor segment, and Irish pubs that don’t expand their offerings to take advantage of the surge in interest are only hurting themselves. I will give them points for having both Guinness and Murphy’s on tap; most Irish places won’t carry 2 stouts. CULTURAL TIDBIT ALERT: A guy from Ireland told that Guinness and Murphy’s are heavily regional in Ireland. Guinness is the northern stout (not the unfree 6 north, but just the north half of the country) while Murphy’s holds strong in Ireland’s southern half. You’ll get odd looks ordering Murphy’s up north in a traditional pub, and vice-versa. I guess it’s like asking for a deep-dish pizza in Brooklyn. Fughedaboudit!

Anyway, the service was friendly and quick, and I think the pub’s look is fantastic. They also have a gift shop with cool Irish stuff in it. I’ll definitely go back, I’m just hoping I’ll have more whiskey choices when I do return.

The Scorecard: B+: I’d usually be a little harsher because of the less-than-stellar whiskey selection, but the place is so cool in every other respect, I’ve got to cut them some slack. (I know, typical Irishman, big softy sentimentalist). Next time you’re at the north end of the AC boardwalk, check them out. They’re about a block off the boards, but they find them easily because they always have someone handing out fliers and wearing a sandwich board with their specials. (No, seriously, they do. Better and cheaper than a newspaper ad, I suppose).

A Tale of Two Pubs

I view Irish pubs in America as basically falling into one of two categories: American Irish pub and Irish-American pub. Now you, loyal reader, may look at this distinction as a particular fine bit of hair-splitting, but I assure you that there is a discernable difference. To me, an American Irish pub seeks to recreate the look and feel of the traditional pub in Ireland. I call it the “Cohan’s effect.” For those of you who don’t know (and shame on ye if ya don’t!) Cohan’s is the name of the local pub that features prominently in the 1952 John Wayne film The Quiet Man; director John Ford’s love letter to his ancestral homeland of Ireland. In the movie, Cohan’s exemplifies what most Americans envision a typical Irish pub to look like: dark wood, roaring fireplace, tranquil locals sipping pints of stout while “talking a little treason.” All in all, Cohan’s in The Quiet Man represents an idyllic and idealized version of an Irish pub that has taken root in the minds of several generations of Americans of Irish heritage.

The reason I mention the two distinct versions of Irish pubs commonly seen in the USA is that two of the best Irish pubs in Delaware almost perfectly embody the two different types in question. Also, the two pubs in question are within a few miles of each other in the Wilmington area.

Catherine Rooney’s is a definite Cohan’s type American Irish pub; it seeks, in ways both large and small, to replicate a pub from the old sod. Rooney’s hits all of the classic notes: dark wood bar and paneling, cozy fireplace, soccer games on the TV (Notre Dame football still takes precedence on fall Saturdays, this is America after all). Rooney’s could easily be a garish parody of an Irish pub, except for the fact that the place was obviously constructed with a strong respect for the Irish pub tradition. The owners are of Irish descent, so the bar is not some exercise in cheap, commercial sentiment. There is plenty of Irish bric-a-brac: pictures of pubs from the old country, plaques with traditional Irish sayings, statues of leprechauns, but it all feels genuine. There is also a nice mural of one wall honoring those who serve and have served the city of Wilmington in the police and fire departments (of course many were/are Irish-Americans). Rooney’s obviously strives mightily to mirror the relaxing, socialable atmosphere of Cohan’s. What makes Catherine Rooney’s such a terrific place is that it succeeds in its goals. The bar is an enjoyable place to have a meal or to just have a few drinks, alone or with friends. The craic hangs easy in the air and a welcoming aura permeates the place. My only quibble is that the Irish whiskey selection is not what it should be. On my last visit, Rooney’s offered 7 Irish whiskies, when I know that there are at least 15-16 available for on-premise sale in Delaware. They have more Scotch for sale then Irish whiskey, and some of it is higher dollar, aged Scotch whiskey. Why no higher-end single malt or 15-18 year old Irish whiskey for us enthusiasts? Aside from the underwhelming whiskey selection, I give Catherine Rooney’s high marks as an Irish pub.

Just a few miles away from Catherine Rooney’s American Irish pub is the flip side of the coin, the Irish American pub, Mulrooney’s. Now, you may ask, what is the difference between these two places? Why is Paddy belaboring the point, playing a rousing game of split-the-hair semantics? To me this difference is an important point, a distinction with a difference. While Catherine Rooney’s is a prototypical American Irish Pub, AIP for short hereafter, a true exemplar of the Cohan’s ideal, Mulrooney’s is a different animal. While Rooney’s harkens back to the old country, Mulrooney’s is very much a creature of America. Mulrooney’s is the kind of place that could be just another corner dive sports bar, with the well-worn 50-year-old floor and the decades-out-of-date interior. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I like a well-aged tavern with some scruffy character). But the numerous Irish adornments make the place more than just a neighborhood watering hole. Mulrooney’s is both distinctly Irish and unmistakably American. The Irish accents are many: a collection of leprechaun figurines on a shelf behind the bar (right next to the shelf of Irish whiskey), the well-aged Notre Dame posters and pennants, the road signs pointing to major Irish cities, noting the distance in miles from America (e.g. Tippearey 3204 miles east). Mulrooney’s has an old feel to it, and the same can be said of the Irish tchotchkes that adorn the walls. The Irish character of the bar feels like a natural progression, something that has been built up over time. Mulrooney’s doesn’t have the slapped together feel of a newly opened pub; with all of the Irish posters and bric-a-brac purchased from some specialty decoration company.

Mulrooney’s also has a very real feel to it; given that it is located in a rather dodgy part of town. The pub/package store is located under an overpass leading from Wilmington to Elsmere; on a virtual dead-end street. For an old school Irish pub, I think this is more the norm than many people may realize. The original Irish-American pubs were watering holes for working class immigrants and their first-generation offspring. Naturally, these places are going to be located in the unglamorous parts of town. But for those with an adventurous spirit and an unpretentious self-confidence, seeking out these diamonds in the rough is worth the effort. A place like Mulrooney’s has a very respectable take-me-as-I-am quality; a gritty, working-class likeability that should appeal to those who like some character in a bar.

Now that I’ve established Mulrooney’s bona fides as far as décor goes, you are probably curious how the place scores on my more important selection-o-meter. The answer is; surprisingly well. When I first dropped in on Mulrooney’s on Saint Patrick’s Days a few years back, I did not expect much from this rather modest-looking place. I was pleasantly surprised to see an Irish whiskey selection that ran about 8-9 bottles strong. One of the guys I was with was pleased and surprised that they offered Smithwicks on draft. I have enjoyed a variety of Irish whiskies there that I have not found in other so-called Irish pubs in the area. I suspect being connected to a liquor store allows the owners to offer a wider selection of booze. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful that Mulrooney’s puts out a fine spread of Irish whiskey, even if there my not be much demand for it. Irish whiskey is a growing spirit category, but it is coming up from a very low sales baseline in this country. Being in Delaware, which is not exactly the home of broad and diverse liquor demand, the problem is doubly compounded with regard to uisce beatha. I plan to write more about the state of Irish whiskey in America in a future post.

The Scorecard: Catherine Rooney’s:

Selection: I have pointed out the lack of new Irish whiskey on the back bar before, and they could easily offer more, given how popular they are. They also have the big 3 Irish beers on tap: Guinness, Harp, and Smithwicks. This is my biggest complaint about the place, but it is also the easiest for them to rectify.

Atmosphere: They take great pains to create the warm, inviting atmosphere of a Cohan’s-type pub. It’s obvious that the owners have a great affection and respect for Irish-Americans. There are plenty of references to notable Irish people and events: in Ireland, America in general, and Wilmington in particular.

Craic: Rooney’s always seems to have it, to varying degrees. It’s comfortable place to have a quiet lunch, or a drink or two. They have a lively happy hour, with a good mix of people. Even the late night crowd is festive and relatively hassle-free. It seems like a good time can always be had there, no matter the day or time. I haven’t met anyone yet who won’t agree to meet there.

Service: The service is usually very good, and a recent group lunch there was a top-notch experience. The bartenders know their stuff and are courteous and helpful. Occasionally, you’ll get a semi-clueless server or some surliness from a bartender, but overall the staff is solid.

Overall grade: B+

The Scorecard: Mulrooney’s

Selection: Good. They seem to have a new Irish whiskey offering on the shelf on a fairly regular basis. I’ve been able to try stuff there for the first time that I haven’t seen offered by the glass anywhere else. The bar also offers the big 3 Irish beers on draft.

Atmosphere/Craic: As I mentioned before, Mulrooney’s is a local, blue-collar type place with a low-key appeal. It’s not a dive, but it definitely isn’t sleek and sexy either. The crowd is laid-back and regular, and you certainly don’t have to worry about dealing with dolled-up plastic girls and blowout sporting dudes working the latest AX fashion. It’s a non-pretentious place to grab a relaxing drink. A place for grown-ups, not club-hopping kids.

Service: Polite and prompt whenever I’ve been there, no complaints. Although it’s probably not the place for the overly finicky bar customer. Don’t come in asking for a wine list or a tapas menu; I’d be the first to laugh you out the door.

Overall Grade: B+

So if you are in the (Wilmington) neighborhood, and you are looking to bend the elbow at a good Irish pub, these 2 bars get the Paddy seal of approval.

Paddy's Inaugural Post

Failte! Welcome to my blog and thanks for coming by. I want to use my inaugural post to explain what is going to be going on here. The title seemingly says it all; this is a blog about Irish Pubs here in the USA. Pubs will be the primary focus, but I plan on doing much more. I am going to cover the gamut of the Irish-American experience, with a focus on the fun stuff. By fun stuff, I’m talking about: pubs, Irish whiskey (and other drinks), festivals, jokes, social groups and gatherings. I’ll try to keep things on a well-organized track, but part of being Irish involves digressing to and fro. So there will be a good dash of miscellanea tossed in to keep things interesting.

So why start a blog about Irish pubs? Well, dear reader, even though there are scores of Irish pubs across this country, the subject seems to get very little attention. You may ask, who cares? After all, they’re just bars. Not quite. The immigrant story in America is multi-faceted, and one of the important, and highly visible facets, is the culinary tradition that each group brings with it. With the recent hot interest in all things gastronomical: cooking shows, History Channel shows about food and restaurants, and the new cocktail renaissance I feel like the Irish in America have been left out. Plenty of shows and books have gone over the ground of: Italian food and wine, BBQ, French cuisine, the evolution of Chinese food in America. But the Irish pub, and the native drinks served therein, hasn’t gotten much ink. Why? Maybe it’s because the Irish don’t have much of a culinary tradition (boiled potatoes, anyone?). And maybe the food shows are too polite to point this fact out by focusing only on the beer and whiskey. I, however, see no need to dodge the issue. So while the Irish didn’t bring any culinary mainstays with them from the old country like the Italians brought pizza or the Polish brought pierogies (making me glad I’m also Italian and Polish, good eating). The Irish gave America the Irish pub; it may our only contribution to the food and beverage landscape, but it’s good enough.

As I said before, there are plenty of Irish pubs dotting the American landscape; some good, some bad, and a few that are exemplary. However, it’s tough to find a good resource for Irish pubs. There are a few sites and books, but my experience is that they are mostly just listings, with maybe a few descriptive lines tossed in. I think people shy away from rating Irish pubs because doing so is an even more subjective undertaking then the typical restaurant or bar review. An eatery may have out-dated décor or limited parking, but if the food is great, all is forgiven. Irish pubs are usually rated largely on the craic factor. Criac is a Gaelic word that refers to a pleasant atmosphere of good, lively fun, a vibe, so to speak. A glass of Jameson is going to taste the same at Murphy’s Pub or at McDowell’s Pub, but the level of craic is going to contribute mightily to which place you drink your Jameson.

My own standards for what makes a good Irish pub fall into two main categories.

Selection: To me, this is paramount. A bar can have all the dark wood, Clancy Brothers music, and pictures of old Eire it wants; but if all they got on the back bar is Jameson and Bushmills, and Guinness is all they have on draft, then the bar is a failure. Why is selection so important? Imagine going into a traditional Italian restaurant with a hankering for some calamari, linguine and clams in fra diavlo, paired with a nice glass of Dolcetto, and finishing all of with a cannoli and espresso. Now, imagine that you open this restaurant’s menu and discover that there isn’t a single pasta dish listed. In fact, everything is steak and sushi. Furthermore, the wine list doesn’t have a single Italian wine on it. I would think that you would be seriously disappointed; asking what kind of sorry excuse for an Italian restaurant is this? I have had this experience numerous times in so-called Irish pubs. I go in, salivating at the prospect of trying a new and interesting Irish whiskey, only to be faced with a back bar featuring the same generic line-up as any casual-dining chain. Jameson and Bushmills are decent enough whiskies, but I can get them anywhere (hell, even at an Italian restaurant). Irish whiskey is not very popular in America, far eclipsed by Scotch and Bourbon in the whiskey category. I don’t expect to find, say, Knappogue Castle at the average bar. But I do expect an Irish pub to make the effort to keep a respectable line-up of Irish beer and whiskey available; where else am I supposed to find it? After all, people aren’t flocking to Irish pubs to try the exotic native cuisine; we’re looking for a taste of what Ireland does best; whiskey and beer that cheers men’s souls like no other.

Appearance and décor: There are several different versions of the Irish pub, both in Ireland and America. So there is a range of looks that an Irish pub can have, and do have, either by accident or design. It is a subject I’ll elaborate on in future posts. Generally speaking, I think that any Irish pub has to give some hint that it is an Irish pub. Does the place have to be lousy with shamrocks and harps? It can be, but doesn’t have too. I think that there has to be some indication of Irishness; it can understated or over-the-top. A few tchotckes is fine, a shamrock here or there, a faded out Notre Dame football pennant. The possibilities are many, but I believe an effort should be made to differentiate an Irish pub from any other bar. A place that calls itself an Irish pub is trading on my ethnic heritage; so make an effort and be respectful. That’s all I ask.

So now that all of you have gotten a sense of where I’m coming from, you can also glean a bit about where I’m going. My aim is to chronicle the Irish pub scene, among other things, in America. I’ll focus mainly on those that are doing it right, and try to keep things positive. Those places that are mediocre and underwhelming, well, I’ll leave them to their tepid fate. However, I will not shy from giving a red-faced verbal lashing to those places that are getting it terrifically wrong. I’m not on some Mick-purity crusade here, but as mentioned before, an Irish pub is trading on my heritage. Bars doing a particularly poor job of representing the Irish will be publicly shamed by yours truly.

On a final note, I would like to open things up to discussion, so to speak. I haven’t been everywhere and don’t know everything, and I don’t pretend to the contrary. I seek and value relevant, civilized, and constructive input from my readers. I’m interested in comments, suggestions, and tips. I’m always on the look out for a watering hole with a distinct character, Irish or not. Suggestions on where to find the more obscure uisce beatha are always welcome. Any information and/or links regarding Irish-American social organizations are also invited. In conclusion, thanks for visiting, and I’ll try to keep things interesting enough so that you’ll return often. Slainte!