Well as you can see, I haven’t added a post in a good while. I add the odd brief one over on Instagram (guinnesslove_dotcom) but the fact of the matter is, the G is so shite in Dublin these days that I won’t even bother with it anymore unless I’m in Bowe’s. There ain’t no love for the G no more round these parts. First Mulligans, then O’D’s, like what in the name of holy good fuck is going on? Well all the arsehole publicans can just fuck off if they think they’re getting my business anymore, the absolute lack of respect for real G-lovers is beyond belief. I can’t wait to see them all go under when the next crash arrives, they deserve it for the pure shite they serve up these days. Down the country, pubs seem to respect the regulars & the G’s are just better. Up here it’s just bollocks. Next time I get a corker I’ll post but till then, there’s no point, coz at the moment, as a rule, they’re all rubbish. I say to G-lovers in Dublin, just pack it in, I pretty much have.
Another brief one here, as this was just another stop on the Christmas shopping trail rather than part of an organised session, though the former can often end up becoming the latter & this particular one certainly had that air about it as we entered our second bar of the day, upstairs in Kehoe’s, which had an extremely cosy Christmas buzz about it; low lit, fairy lights, fir clippings every &, of course, jammed with revellers enjoying the Christmas cheer (i.e. using any excuse to drink heavily from 3 in the afternoon).
Small as the bar is up there, it was adequately manned & had a rake of Settlers awaiting ownership. I managed to put my name on one in minutes & a solid wobble-test had me feeling comfortable. I expected no less than a 3, especially having, in this very establishment, been treated to some of the best pints I’d ever had not so long ago. The decent creamy texture certainly helped get the Goodness back to our table intact as I was moved this-way-and-that such was the crowd but, complimented by my years nurtured dodgems-like pintarmability, not a drop was lost to the sea of people.
The minor cream-leak had me excited & an excellent, velvety lip-flop, followed by a solid, well flavoured gulp of the liquid darkness told me I would not be disappointed. These indicators, well honed at this stage, proved correct. The pint stayed as so throughout, as did the couple that followed, average-creamy but very tasty. What a lovely way to finish out the Christmas shopping drinks pit-stop… if only I had!
My Goodness! Now That’s Guinness!
Having just been pissed-upon by my former favourites down in Mulligan’s, I was desperate to get a decent pint. John Kehoe’s has always had a good name for the Black Stuff but it had been a few years since my last visit. I had it on good order from one of the lads that they were still right up there so off we traipsed from Poolbeg Street by the Liffey to South Anne Street off Grafton Street & we were met by jam-packed bar bustling with Christmas cheer.
We hit the bar immediately &, despite the crowd, we had a round of perfectly poured, creamy looking beauties in no time. The wobble-test was very promising; she was a right thick one & I was salivating at the though of getting in there.
I was absolutely dying for it so I dived on in for a full gulp-gargle…. Oh good Jesus! Have we found some holy black nectar here or what?! The lip-flop was divine, like heavenly satin dabbing my face, & when the flavour hit my mouthnthroat I almost gagged it was that spine-tinglingly good. It was bang-on flavour at the bang-on temperature (though we were outside on the street in the cold). I could only imagine the beer-orchestra playing away in my mouth at that moment. My whole upper body was buzzing & my tongue smiled as I went for a second gulp-gargle. Pure quality again & all the way to the mighty, voluptuous finisher: Total Creamgasm!
This was it, this was the Goodness us G-lovers seek; guaranteed top-notchers. The pints & happiness flowed on in to the night, courtesy of Kehoes. It’s places like this, on nights like this, that we live for. Thank you John Kehoe, long may it last.