This bar is straight up: a nice spot, a genuine barman, it even has a horse-racing area with a odds-monitor if that’s what ye fancy. The pint is only something like €4.25, which is just excellent (& fair in my opinion) value in this city. This particular G had a good, solid head, bit o’the cream, as it should be, easily passing a wobble-test & leaving me & my G-Punter mates very happy with our lot. We didn’t have much time so I went straight for the gulp-gargle, the soft lip-flop giving me a quality G-tache. I got a right amount in & it flowed like a full flavoured torrent through my mouthnthroat. Very tasty & very refreshing; exactly what I was after. The head hugged the glass all the way to a nice, creamy finisher… oh yes. I very much enjoyed polishing this one off in minutes. This establishment is solid for the G; a high 3 with great value to boot.
It was early afternoon on a crisp but clear Autumn day & I had arranged to meet a few mates, among them a fellow G-Man, in O’Ds for a couple ahead of an Ireland match & a lengthy seis. There was no sign of them when I arrived but that wasn’t gonna stop me going right ahead & ordering for myself. I just don’t get enough of a chance to visit purveyors of The Black Gold anymore to be wasting precious G-Time sitting around waiting on friends.
As usual, there was a pile of Settlers resting at the bar, so my pint took only a minute to prepare. It looked just great to be honest, lovely bit o’the cream, as it should be, top-notch wobble-test to boot, I was well looking forward to digging in. I found myself a lovely spot near the back door &, as I lay her down before me, I noticed a lovely little cream-leak had formed. I had Ronnie Drew, Luke Kelly et al looking down approvingly from their many perches upon the wall as I pulled the Goodness towards me. After a satisfyingly solid lip-flop, the black hit the mouth & flowed in over my tongue….. mmmmm, so liquidly refreshing, the perfect concoction of a Saturday afternoon. Black & creamy; just lovely. A very enjoyable pint, as was the next. It’s always such a delight to drink in here.
Well, after my last experience in this Guinnessing-hole, I was becoming disillusioned with the state of the G in Dublin but more than keen to give it a chance for rememption considering that this establishment has served me more creamy bastards than any other. And so it was of a Thursday evening with an old friend that the opportunity arose for Mullies to save its reputation.
It was by no means jammers at half five so a handy spot just inside the lounge doors had been secured and by the time I arrived a well formed pint of the GoodBlacknWhite was sitting on the table awaiting me. I’d just done literally the most honest days work of my life sanding tables for Barretstown and was very thirsty for, if not a little deserving of, some Black Gold. The wobble test was very promising, bit o’the cream, as it should be, things were looking up for me, and for Mulligans. My excitement built; could it be a good ‘un, please be a good ‘un! The lip flop was slow and creamy leaving a good G-tache, the black goodness hit my mouth…. I couldn’t help but smile that knowing smile; it was on point. It was a solid, tasty number & I was very happy.
It kept its form, the head hugging the glass right the way down to a nice creamy finisher. I was ready for more, just to be sure, and sure enough the five that followed were all solid. Mullies, you are back. You had an off night but you’re back in business. Not quite back on top, but back in the good-game.
This kind of place is exactly why I started this blog. If I had to say what the problem here is, just as it is in any other 1/4, I’d say it’s that they use the same chemical mix for all draughts to get the beer from keg to tap. This is fucking bullshit. The publican is actually selling a product that they have not advertised. Imagine you ordered a steak & you were served a leg of lamb? Would you accept it? Fuck no! So why do publicans expect us to accept their shite pints of Guinness?
I had been really looking forward my first local pint & no better place than the Waterside, with its amazing views across the North Dublin beaches to Howth & out to Lambay Island. Unfortunately, I knew it that it was a bogey as soon as I saw it… it was a God-damned fizzy header! The head, though correctly apportioned, was full so of bubbles it was frothing over…. CO2 alert! It certainly wasn’t gonna be a creamy one, that was for sure.
Plonked down in a great spot in front of the telly for the hurling I was but I feared for the experience as as I brought the darkness toward my mouth. Obviously, there was zero lip-flop & as soon a it rolled over my tongue I knew I was right. Once the first gulp had gone down my throat the full squinty-wince face came on; I was fucked, it was gonna be a Struggler. At this point, you know it’s bad & it’s only a matter of whether it’ll drag itself into 2 territory or if the dreaded 1 is on the cards. The pencil-tache was forming very early, which is a very bad sign, but I soldiered on, each gulp as bad as the last, until I got to the point where I could go no further. I had reached the end of my tether, with this pint and with every poxy establishment that treats Guinness drinkers like shite-on-a-shoe. Halfway down I was when I just packed it in, up, & left. This place didn’t & doesn’t deserve my custom &, if you’re a G-punter, it doesn’t deserve yours either. I won’t be back.
Red alert! Red Alert! Call the Guinness police! Holy shit, did this actually happen?! Is this some kind of creamless, wet, black nightmare from which I am yet to awaken? Please tell me it is! Mulligan’s, the original G-Mecca, with a 2 rating, what the hell is going on?!
It was a Friday evening & I was heading to a work leaving drinks being held in Mullies on my recommendation. I had talked up the Guinness no-end & I was delighted to be buying the leaver a pint of the GoodBlacknWhite in the home of the quality pint. A foreigner, & so obviously not a regular drinker, I thought “I’ll get him on the G-train after a few creamy beauties in one of Irelands foremost Guinnessing-holes”. The pints were purchased in the lounge side & when they landed on the table I couldn’t help but notice the head didn’t seem to be it’s usual uber-creamy Mulligan’s self. I’d never bother with a wobble-test in this establishment, as they have never served me anything but the best, but I was just slightly suspicious at this point.
It being Mulligan’s on a Friday after work, my anticipation had reached fever pitch. I salivated heavily as I moved the glass towards my mouth but the closer it got the worse the head looked; there seemed to be more bubble-fluff than smooth-puff. The lip-flop was a let-down, not the soft-caressing I have grown used to here so, as you can imagine, by now I was starting to wonder what was going on. The taste was not as I would expect either, definitely a bit of squints about it as it flowed over my tongue. I couldn’t take a gulp, only a sup. This pint was borderline & I was in shock. It was average at best all the way down to a watery disappointment of a finisher. Something was amiss so I decided to try the bar rather than the lounge for the second just in case it was a one-off (it never is!)…. it wasn’t. The taste again was, & it pains me to have to admit it, squinty-wince face. The issue here, for the first time ever in this establishment, was definitely the mix. Too much carbon dioxide if you ask me. I had a few more, each as disappointing as the last. To compound the problem, I had been embarrassed in front of my workmates, having made the claim that this pub served the best pints in Ireland & having then been shown up so badly.
This is the lowest point since the launch of Guinnesslove.com. I don’t know was it the staff, the proprietor trying to save money, an accident or what, but, Mulligan’s, you have forsaken us G-lovers.
It was my first time upstairs in this place & being some sort of Victorian bedroom/ hipster-circus hybrid left me in fear that more effort would be going in to the decor than the pintage here. Having just come across the road from O’Donoghue’s, & a couple of serious top-notchers, I was more than a little apprehensive.
The pint was professionally poured, nice wait time, looked decent. The wobble-test proved promising so I tucked in, hitting it for an average sup. To my delight, it wasn’t too bad, bit o’the cream, as it should be, with a decent taste to boot. I was happy with it. I tried a couple more & they were just the same. Consistently grand pints I’d say, more than acceptable & leaving me pleasantly surprised.
Talk about hotly anticipated! It was the day of the France match; this was gonna be big. As town was the meet & watch point, what better place to get rolling than good old solid-as-fork O’D’s. We made our way in for 12 & due to the rake of settlers they have nestled around the bar, even at that hour, we had some creamy looking good-things sitting in front of us within 2 minutes. From my recent foray into this much-loved establishment I knew they still had it so from the moment I awoke that morning I had been anticipating some serious pints; the salivating had reached dehydration proportions & I now had just the remedy.
From the look of the creamy head I could tell there was no need for a wobble-test, this pint just needed me to dive right in & I bloody well obliged with a full sized gulp-gargle. Each sup was a cold, full-bodied taste of heaven. Jesus, this is how it’s meant to be. I couldn’t get enough. I would describe both the smell and the taste as “black & creamy”. There was so much depth to the flavour, my whole tongue, nay, my whole mouth was tingling with enjoyment. My first was over so quickly, a second was soon required & it didn’t let me down either. After a gulp you can’t help but exclaim “mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm” & so I did. What a start to the day!
These guys do Guinness as it should be; a serious old-school taste & solid creamyness. Throw in the trad band playing away too (yes, they were there at midday) & these pints could just be Dublin’s best. I could drink pints here all day, in fact, I think I’ll do just that sometime in the near future.
It was the evening of the Ireland Sweden match and I was on holidays so I was seriously lookin forward to these pints. I’d never drank in this place so was buzzin to be tryin some new taps. It had been over an hour since I ate so I was totally ready for the pint &, thanks to my mate Rob, by the time I arrived there was already a right creamy looking bastard sittin at the table awaiting me. A brief wobble-test confirmed its credentials; the head almost tried to flop for my mouth! The lip-flop hit like a fluffy cloud of darkened goodness caressing my face, & it was oh-so-smooth as it rolled over my tongue & down my throat. The taste was deep & Guinnessey, a delight; I couldn’t wait to get another in.
And there were many more, all above par. These guys serve great pints, I will definitely come here again for the G. As with all solid Guinnessing-holes, this place comes with a warning: it’s so good you’ll be 5 deep in a couple of hours. Plan accordingly….. and enjoy.
I hadn’t had a pint in a couple of weeks so I was really looking forward to this one. Add to that the fact that this was the VIP Connoisseur Experience bar, nestled away in a secret location deep in the bowels of the Guinness Storehouse, & I had just been shown the best way to get the most taste out of a sup of Guinness, & you can only imagine how raring to go I was when the thimble sized drink was placed on the bar in front of me; my Guinness-senses had reached a crescendo.
Nose in the glass, deep breath in through the nose, hold it, take a mid-sized sup, breath out through the nose, swallow. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, damn that was good! My salivary juices were flowing all over, huge flavour really, all around the mouth. I jumped back in & polished it off in about a second. Unfortunately, we only got 2 sips of this amazing 4/4 fluid so I can’t really give it a full rating. The pint I poured later on was a mere 3/4, as was the one I enjoyed in the Gravity bar later too. There is top-quality nectar to be had in this bar, but with the tiny amount they give you after all the Guinness talk, it doesn’t give itself the opportunity to get the Guinnesslove seal of approval.
As most of you are probably aware, event G’s are, in general, fairly poor. If you get an average one you’d be delighted. Often they’re a messy single-pour, lashed out at a furious pace in an effort to cater for the volumes. This, of course, doesn’t engender a happy Guinnexperience but when it’s that, Carlsberg or a small bottle of wine, there’s only one winner for me.
The unfortunate thing about looking for a half-time pint in Crokers is that, depending on how well attended the match is, you could find yourself getting served just when they’re about to throw in again, which is exactly what happened me on this occasion. Likely as a result of the crowds of bouseys with pints in their hands hanging around the entrances trying to get a view of the match before heading back to their seats, the-powers-that-be have installed tellies outside the bar so you won’t miss anything, which is very handy. At a fiver, I guess it’s what you’d expect & it’s not like you can go somewhere else. The pint was a single-pour but it settled fairly well & looked very drinkable.
I put it to my lips, expecting, from the look of her, a decent bit o’the cream but was immediately disappointed by the watery taste. It wasn’t that the taste was off, as in establishments that show a severe lack of respect to the Guinness by over-carbonating, rather, it was just a lack of taste. It was a pint of Guinness alright, it was just devoid of character. I would class the pint as “stadium drinkable”; you can get it into you in about 3 minutes if necessary in order to get back to the stands & it’ll probably make that first one in the pub after the game that bit more enjoyable. Yes it’s a 2 out of 4 but in all honestly, I’ve had worse in pubs, so it’ll do you for a swifty at half time.