- Quality and/or choice of drinks – 6/10
- Style and Decor – 8/10
- Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 9/10
- Amenities, Events & Community – 6/10
- Value for Money – 8/10
- The Pub-Going Factor – 8/10
For all the blabbering on we could indulge in about such things as décor, history, live events, and so on, it is occasionally easy to lose sight of the more humble qualities of a good pub, those of simplicity and authenticity.
A bar’s interesting décor can sometimes divert from the expense or low quality of the drinks, occasionally the unpleasant atmosphere as well. All too often a pub’s history is used as a fig leaf to disguise the fact the interior has since been vandalised and transformed into a chain-operated place devoid of character. A lot of pubs run a pub quiz, food nights, karaoke, live music but are thoroughly unappealing nonetheless. That’s no magic bullet.
It takes a degree of resolve these days to run a pub that doesn’t bother with half of that, isn’t trying to be anything it’s not, doesn’t care about mythologising, widening demographics, or trying to get each customer to pay the absolute limit of what they’re prepared to.
It would be tempting to call such a place ‘quaint’ but there is a patronising element to that word, bordering on ignorant, which I dislike, and which Briody’s doesn’t deserve. I didn’t think Briody’s the least bit ‘quaint’ on my visit. It is however a simple honest boozer that has thought about what to improve,what to keep and what to maintain very carefully.
I like the small size – you have a small lounge area on your left, in front of a bar stretching along the room, with comfortable upholstered bench seats lining the wall. It is as big as it ever needs to be, and has a degree of cosiness without ladling it on too thick. It’s a nice lounge, your living room with a bar and a few other folk in it, essentially. Perfect for quiet contemplation, reading, good conversation and so on. There’s an upstairs which I understand is for hire for students cramming for exams, meetings and so forth.
One thing you can never tell from the outside of an Irish pub is how good it’s going to be once you walk in. Nearly all of their exteriors have a rather studied look, with the ubiquitous Gaelic script, or at least a typeface aged enough to suggest a traditional interior. However, this often has little to do with what you’re presented with when you walk in, and it takes a keen eye to distinguish your plastic paddy pub from the genuine places frequented by locals.
One commonality in Dublin, is the sight of a ruddy-cheeked, broad-chested man of borderline retirement age doing the serving, usually dressed very smartly in a plain Daz-white shirt, black trousers and shiny shoes and belt. There’s a certain formality to this which conveys command. Maybe not wholly consciously, but I believe that’s intentional.
These fellows are usually quick-witted and not short of a few comments to make, especially if they haven’t seen your face around their pub before. It’s usually jovial jesting at most, and you’ll notice the standard of welcome in Dublin a notch higher than most European cities, apart from perhaps the most tourist-ridden places where the demand on the service and the churn of staff makes that difficult.
No such worries at Briody’s – taking a seat there feels like you are being added to a painting. Here’s where you find your more raw Dubliner accent, blue language aimed at the Gaelic footy on TV, and most thankfully, an excellent pint of Guinness. You know you’re in for a good pint of the stuff when the cream on top forms an almost-film like layer when it settles. It’s not cheap in Ireland these days, but a pint is cheaper in Briody’s than many places elsewhere in the city centre. Anything like that is welcome on the wallet.
This explains why locals head down here (many of whom the bar staff know by name) but there are other factors. Despite being 5 minutes walk from the Spire on O’Connell Street, most locals don’t venture down Marlborough Street running parallel, instead sticking to and clogging up the main arteries of the city. Given other areas of the city are studded with pubs – mediocre ones – all of which are crammed full, it’s a strange feeling that somewhere like Briody’s could plough its own calm furrow, almost hiding in plain sight.
“Setting foot in the pub, you immediately feel like you are on familiar territory. Just like wandering into your grannies, you know you’re in good hands. The interior is typical of a good local boozer; tiled flooring greets feet upon entrance before a pristine carpet overtakes the rest of the floor space. Lighter wooden tones are well complimented with beige embossed wallpaper. The seating proved to be tremendously cosy in its simplicity while classic drink brands and sport are the themes exhibited in frames upon the wall. We took a particular shine to a bittersweet portrait of Paul McGrath seen in his heyday sitting at an unidentified bar holding a creamy pint aloft.”
It is one of those pubs that you wouldn’t see what the fuss was about until you’d spent a good while visiting the so great many mediocre ones first.
Comfortable, authentic, friendly, and simple. That’s the way it is, and the way it wants to stay. Perhaps deep down they may not welcome me saying this, as this is their refuge rather than a tourist hub, but here we are. I can’t ignore you.
Have you been to Briody’s? Any views, or corrections? Please get in touch on the comments below or via our Facebook page!