It is almost an oxymoron as the ambiance was queerly muted. An Irish pub without the usual disonnance is to the analogy of Santa Claus without diabetes. To be fair, It was a lazy sunday aftternoon.
McKibbin's Pickles! Do get them. Ummm, deep fried sourness! We also had a homemade irish stew. It had all the usual suspects; lots of potatoes, braised lambs and of course Guiness. The portion was large enough to feed 2 persons. So we skipped deserts.
I will be back on St-Patrick's day for the rowdiness... I hope.