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.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
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
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
Sunday, May 30, 2010
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
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
Monday, May 10, 2010
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
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
Monday, April 19, 2010
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
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
Saturday, March 27, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
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
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
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