travel

We’re back in my busy travel time of year, so this week, it’s a quick selection of pubs from Kilkenny, rather than anything more local-to-me in Dublin. And I’m sure Kilkenny residents will rightly point out that these are all touristy in one way or another, but hey, you have to at least tick some of those off the list when it’s a flying visit. I was only in town overnight to catch Fra Fee singing Sondheim (AND LIZ CALLAWAY WAS THE SURPRISE GUEST – my fellow Sondheim nerds will understand the all-caps here – normals, feel free to move on*), so beer was not super-high on the agenda, for once.

But that said, I had a few hours free after a nice lunch with friends, and some poking around the various museums and historic sites, so I had to at least make a stop in at Kyteler’s Inn, which leans all the way in to its association with Dame Alice Kyteler, the subject of one of Ireland’s very few witchcraft trials in 1324. Not coincidentally, this is the date given for the foundation of the pub, and while that seems a bit too good to be true, we do have good documentation for Dame Alice owning the property (among many others, in her varied marriage-and-land-acquisition career), and it does seem genuinely ‘old’ – though I would guess more of the rambling pub is more of 15th century-and-onward date, but I would happily believe bits, at least, are older and have been reused. We have, naturally, covered Dame Alice and her unfortunate servant, Petronella, who was the one who ended up in the flames after Dame Alice fled abroad (Petronella now has a restaurant named after her, so, um, yay?) in a previous (AWARD-NOMINATED) Beer Ladies Podcast episode or two, which always gives us an excuse to re-bust the alewives/witches myth, but this was my first visit back to Kyteler’s Inn since a quick lunch there during some version of Covid protocols.

And while it is absolutely in the tourist camp – I mean, that cat logo and the €7 pint – I can’t fault that in any way; you gotta get a gimmick**. And I’m here for the rebadged O’Hara’s Red Ale as their house Witches Brew, which is clearly designated as such for The People Who Worry About That Sort of Thing (you know who you are). My only knock on the place – beyond the proliferation of North American accents – that many of My Countrypeople in one place always makes me a little nervous, but more on that in a moment – is that the tour-bus numbers make it a little too busy to have especially attentive service; I would absolutely have purchased one of the incredibly silly t-shirts if I’d been asked, but after my token pint, I never could catch anyone’s eye again, despite sitting at the bar. That said, I wasn’t planning to linger, so it wasn’t a terrible hardship.

I had a quick walk into the Smithwick’s Experience, just to check it out, but I almost immediately backed right out when I heard louder-than-usual Boomer American Men in Caps confidently declaring that this was where they made the beer that’s ‘just like a red Guinness‘ that ‘you can’t get back home’ and as the conversation was about to turn to ‘socialism,’ I had to flee. I wouldn’t mind doing the tour at some point (I am curious if they show off or describe anything about the medieval abbey that was here), but feel I’d need to go with friends who don’t have my accent, just to provide a sort of buffer.

After more pleasant strolling and some actual relaxation in my hotel, I ventured back out for dinner, this time, to Sullivan’s Taproom (‘established 1702’). They have considerably expanded their covered outdoor seating since our previous visit, and it’s a thoroughly pleasant spot, with a variety of nooks and crannies in the Craftonia style, and I saw A Thing I don’t think I’ve ever seen in this country – Young People being asked for ID before being served drinks. You can order via QR code or go to the bar, and while I know some are not fans of the QR code approach, as a solo diner/drinker, it’s very handy – no worry that your table will disappear if you need a refill. And while I’m not an unabashed fan of all of the house-made offerings at Sullivan’s – barring the red ale, which is very pleasant indeed – they do a lovely tasting tray, and the guest beer lineup is very good indeed. On my visit, there were options from Third Barrel and Bullhouse, to name just a few, and the pizza is excellent; all in all, a successful pre-theatre stop.

I had a very quick post-show pint (well, really, two glasses) at Cleere’s Bar, which was just across the street from the Watergate Theatre, and was obviously the spot for the creatives, too – it was nice to be able to give a quick ‘great job, loved the show’ and then let them enjoy their evening (and it was a fantastic show), and while there weren’t many craft options, it was nice to grab a Murphy’s as a bit of a change, and it had a very welcoming, traditional pub vibe.

All told, Kilkenny is a lovely little city for a quick break; I know there are a few other craft-supporting pubs I didn’t have the chance to get to, but it’s always good to leave something for next time. I’ll drink to that***.

*sorry/not remotely sorry

** still not sorry

*** everybody RISE

We’ll return to our regularly scheduled Weirdo Dublin Pubs programming next week, but first, some notes on a holiday. Last week, we went to Vienna for the first time, and in between the usual tourist spots like the Spanish Riding School, the Natural History Museum and the Haus der Musik, we managed to grab a few local beers; given the hot weather, the sheer number of radlers on offer was much appreciated. Also: TRAINS.

To keep this blog hyper-local for one moment, I have to share how exciting it was to go straight from our arrival gate in Vienna to A TRAIN IN THE AIRPORT – and not just one, there were various options, as well as buses! (For the uninitiated, Dublin is one of two European capitals without a train to the airport, though Budapest does have plenty of other transit modes – it’s been in the works for…well, a long time. It was last ‘guaranteed to open’ in 2007). And there was no need to take the (relatively) expensive express train, either; the S-Bahn to the U-Bahn got us to our hotel in mostly-air conditioned comfort, and very affordably, too.

After dropping off our bags, we headed out for lunch and had the first radler of the trip; I’m sure my Zwettler Radler from Salzburg is the sort of thing locals find unremarkable, but as someone who much prefers lemon vs grapefruit in my radler, I was very excited to have it – an ideal option for 30+ degree weather (something else we’re unaccustomed to, though it was much less welcome than the wonderful public transit, clean streets and ample public seating – we’re not built for heat or sunny conditions), especially with a tired child and a long (though much enjoyed) afternoon of excellent museum-ing on the cards.

After a tour around the excellent Natural History Museum, which houses the Venus of Willendorf* as well as a broader prehistory collection, plus the more usual rocks (honestly, pretty great) and taxidermied animals (a very chill-looking thylacine was my highlight – I always seek out the thylacine, if there is one), we headed to the much-recommended 1516 Brewing Company for an early dinner – and there, we were in for a treat. In addition to an absolutely gorgeous lager (also used for the radler), they produce Victory Hop Devil under license, whole hops and all. As former Pennsylvanians, this was an extremely exciting discovery, and it tasted absolutely like ‘the real thing’ in Downingtown. In a world with so many hazy IPAs, it was such a delight to have it on this side of the Atlantic, and fresh as could be. And given that my most recent Hop Devil would have likely been in a plastic cup in a car park before a Union game, it seemed very civilized indeed to be drinking it from a glass, seated at a table in Austria. Top marks for the pretzels, too – regular readers know that I have a grand unified theory about how all pubs and bars should have soft pretzels available, and my notion was only reinforced. The Kimber Ale, a sort of Altbier-ish sipper, was also very nice on a hot day. Before an early night, I did repair to the Prater with the child to ride a few rides, and while none were remarkable, at least we weren’t injured – this time. More on that later.

After a good night’s sleep, a decent hotel gym and an excellent breakfast buffet, we took in the Spanish Riding School, and while the tour was very well-done, we were graced with the presence of That Sort of American, who wanted to discuss, at length, how the Lipizzaners were rescued by THE UNITED STATES ARMY who then FREED EUROPE AND SAVED EVERYONE FROM COMMUNISM – yes, he seemed to speak in all-caps. He also complained that the signs from the Hop On Hop Off bus weren’t clear enough for him to understand them (and yet, there he was), and that perhaps all the signage should be reconsidered. The two young women guiding the tour had the sort of fixed smiles I could only admire; they were patience itself, although one did remark, ‘well, I do work here,’ upon being told by the gentleman in question that she had been ‘mostly right’ when he quizzed her on the horses’ wartime rescue (‘I read a book all about these horses and Patton’) – though, for someone who had done so much of his own research, he was shocked to discover the Spanish Riding School horses are all stallions – this is simply the most basic of all basic Horse Girl knowledge. I really needed a drink after that.

Unfortunately, there was nothing particularly local, beer-wise, on at the Philly-themed restaurant we tried – both taplines had kicked – so I had to make do with a Budvar. Now, it’s never a bad beer, and it was a pretty fresh bottle, but I’ll just say that this place was no Passyunk Ave, though the cheesesteak mac & cheese was not bad. And we returned to the Prater again, this time, rather less successfully. The indoor roller coaster gave me a really bad whack on the head (which they insisted was ‘impossible’), and I still have a painful lump there, over a week later. It’s more or less on a 0/10 – would not return now. I wasn’t expecting a Disneyland standard from it, but I did think it might be on a near par with Tivoli – alas, this was not the case; the overall impression after the injury (and seeing the middling state of the park overall) was less grand theme park, more temporary carnival. And not in a good way. It’s a shame – the child did really enjoy the IKEA advertising all over the famous Ferris wheel (no, really – she spoke of it for days after). So, not everything was perfect, though trips rarely are – though that said, I don’t think I’ve ever come home with an actual injury before.

But on to happier notes…I managed to score another radler at the Zoo, this time from Ottakringer, and again, it was lovely to get there and back again easily on the U-Bahn, and the rare breed cattle and horses were a special bonus for me – yes, I get excited about these things, and the Noriker mare and her colt were a delight. We made another pit stop at 1516 between tourist sites, and then finished up our evening at Mel’s Craft Beer and Diner. We chose this more out of necessity – there were things a picky child would eat – than design, and while the overall beer list was a bit basic, there were some interesting little highlights, and another unexpected American treat – they had a bottle of Anchor Steam. It was also the only place we could find a Vienna Lager – again, in a bottle that didn’t seem terribly fresh, though not by any means bad – but I suppose that’s the curse of the travelling beer nerd; the historic local style is always difficult to find, but there are plenty of the sort of things you could find absolutely anywhere, well, absolutely everywhere. Still – Anchor Steam!

Despite the knock on the head, I’d very much like to go back to Vienna again; there are quite a few museums and music-related sites we didn’t have the chance to check out, and I would absolutely go back to 1516 for any seasonal offering – I certainly wouldn’t say no to another lager or Hop Devil.

*For People Like Me who read all of the Earth’s Children/Clan of the Cave Bear books in the 1980s, you too can re-experience their very Mary Sue-ness with an entire wall of replicas of the artifacts referenced in the books. It would not have been weird to see someone cosplaying Jondalar and Ayla, or maybe Creb. It was a Whole Thing.

After nearly two and a half years of living in Dublin, we finally had the chance to take the train up to Belfast. We had been told that it was a magical city full of cask ale (OK, I confess, that’s a slight exaggeration – we were told we could find some without looking around too hard, and that it would be in good shape) and that there would be some interesting museums. Also: ice hockey, though we aren’t quite there yet, season-wise. But perhaps the most exciting part of the journey itself was that we were promised an actual trolley on the train, with tea and snacks – something sadly still absent from non-border-crossing Iarnród Éireann trains since Covid began. As it turns out, much of this was, indeed, true.

First, though, the train – the Enterprise service between Dublin and Belfast recently celebrated its 75th anniversary, so there were a few nods to that in the Special Waiting Area within Connolly Station. That said, it’s not in any way an especially unique or well-appointed waiting area, and the train itself was not of the latest vintage, though it was nicer than some local trains I have used – no USB charging points, but the standard plug options were working well enough. The reservation displays were broken on our carriage, so our queuing to board turned out to be a good move; it was something of a free-for-all (‘just sit anywhere!’ we were told as we boarded). That hiccup aside, the journey was speedy and pleasant, and the aforementioned trolley did appear; it shouldn’t be so exciting to buy tea and a KitKat on the train, but we felt we had to, since it’s not an option on any other service. Payments were accepted in both Euro and Sterling, although card payments were pounds-only, so it was a useful prompt to swap to a credit card that doesn’t charge for currency conversion.

We got into Belfast around lunchtime, and after dropping off our bags, headed out to find some cask get lunch. We had been recommended The Crown Liquor Saloon for cask and food by many people, and during pre-trip planning, I was excited to update my Nicholson’s Pub app so that we could order from our eventual table (especially handy when you have a hungry child in tow). Although their dining room was closed and it was a bit crowded in the bar area as a result (soooo many people looking for the perfect Instagram shot without even getting a beer), we did manage to score one of the very pleasant snugs and ordered away. There were not a huge number of cask options, but what they did have was very good and the food was an order of magnitude better than anything you’d find in the otherwise-similar Wetherspoon’s app. As an aside, my Grand Unified Theory of Everything is that the world would be a more pleasant place if we could replace all ‘Spoons with Nicholson’s pubs, but maybe I simply haven’t been in enough of the latter to have had a bad experience. At any rate, I had a cask stout from Whitewater Brewing in the form of their Belfast Black, and also got to sip on an always-welcome Timothy Taylor Landlord.

We were recommended The Woodworkers, and after a somewhat sketchy walk – Google Maps is missing a little bit of nuance when it comes to Belfast directions – we ended up there for dinner. It was a fabulous suggestion; in some ways, it was as though a casual Brooklyn or Philadelphia bar had been teleported to Northern Ireland – there was a great selection of local beer, games and puzzles and fantastic food. There were also welcoming, inclusive signs (breastfeeding welcome, unpleasant behaviour very much not) and knowledgeable staff who really knew the beers on tap. Tasting flights and a variety of measures were available, so it was ideal from a visitor’s perspective. We especially enjoyed two beers – Our Brewery’s Modern Love and Bullhouse Brew Co’s Love – Pride, both great pale ales. We also got to sample a number of new-to-us beers from across (mostly) the north of England that we rarely see in Dublin. This was very much the kind of place we would be thrilled to have in our own neighbourhood, and will certainly become a regular place to tick off when we get back for another visit. Very impressive.

We only had time for a flying visit with a quick pint to the Sunflower Pub (but we did get the photo, above, that I am reasonably sure you are required to take when in Belfast – alas, the cask not up and running), but we went back several times to The Deer’s Head. While planning our visit (this is a very loose employment of the term, to be fair), we enjoyed watching Get ‘Er Brewed’s YouTube channel, with a special focus on their own Our Brewery and a wonderfully brewing-geeky walkthrough of the kit at Bell’s Brewery (no, not that one) at The Deer’s Head. Happily, the beers were all fantastic, and the pub and brewery within are beautifully appointed. The one downside is that food was not on for any of our visits (this kept happening to us – we had the same issue at The Sunflower with no pizza, which I assume is down to the currently-usual Covid-related staff shortages), and I’ve heard so many good things about their pie flight (PIE FLIGHT) – so, something for another time. But as far as the beer, I especially loved Capstan, an Australian Pale Ale, and the Berliner Lager. Also very worth your time was the Red Cow Red Ale – quite tasty indeed. They are naming beers after the disappeared pubs, brewers and spirit dealers of the local district from the 19th century, and it’s a fantastic tribute to those vanished businesses – that likely were not nearly as nice!

Outside the pubs, the Ulster Museum was very good (a thylacine! A coelacanth! A Game of Thrones Bayeux Tapestry-thing!), and the smallest member of our party was obsessed with W5, something of a combination science museum and climbing facility aimed squarely at her age group. W5 was also where we found some better tea; I must confess I found the Lyons at our hotel a little lightweight. We found even better tea at The Dock Café, a donation-box affair where you pay what you wish or can – they served Suki Teas, whose Belfast Black (so yes, we had tea and beer with the same name) was delicious. I must confess that the Titanic museum was impressive; nothing like the tacky displays that travel across the US (and, one presumes, other places), but a proper local social history museum, with a surprise dark ride thrown in the middle.

The only thing we missed (well, only thing apart from the PIE FLIGHT) was the chance to catch a Belfast Giants hockey game – something we are keen to rectify next time…along with visiting Boundary in person! And, yes, getting that pie flight…

(Occasional) business travel is BACK – at least, for me – and with it, a little bit of beer travel on the side.

I am fortunate enough to have not just an exciting new role, but one that’s based in one of my favourite countries to visit: Denmark. While I primarily work at home in Dublin, I recently went out to meet the team in person (something that didn’t happen more than a few times in my old position, partially due to Covid and partially due to garbage politics, but I digress). My company is based in Odense, which was a new-to-me destination. I’ve previously blogged about thoroughly enjoying Copenhagen as a beer destination, and while Odense – the birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen, which you will not be allowed to forget as you stroll about town – is not nearly as large, it does have some unique beer spots well worth seeking out.

I confess I didn’t do much research before heading out on my first night in town – my priority was finding something that was near my hotel, open, still serving food and that had at least one or two decent taps. With that in mind, I made a beeline to Anarkist Beer & Food Lab, although by the time I arrived, they were nearly out of the latter; I did manage to snag the last burger, and got a tasting flight of fair-to-fine beers, although nothing outstanding. The atmosphere was very much ‘taproom full of people with questionable music taste on a stag night’ and so I did not linger – but, despite the first impression, more on this brewery later.

After a good night’s sleep and some wandering the next day, I stopped in for lunch at Flakhaven Gastropub, a beautifully-appointed bar – or, more accurately, series of bars, both inside and outside – right in the incredibly-tidy city centre. With Danish-only signage, I found it somewhat difficult to figure out which parts were and were not quite open as the basement bar looked to be the place they sent beer nerds, with a neon taplist of beers from across Europe on the wall, but I ended up sitting upstairs and had an excellent veggie burger with a really lovely brown ale – and you know how I am about brown ales. I was told that the brewer is British, and that he tends to brew in that direction, and the guest taps from breweries like Thornbridge made sense in that regard. For my local Irish readers, there was also a Porterhouse option as well as a Guinness, because there is always Guinness, everywhere. I would love to have tried more, but I never managed to get anyone’s attention to order a second (I presume I was in some way Doing It Wrong), so I went back out sight-seeing.

My next port of call was the one I had been told to check out in advance; a cosy bar called Carlsens Kvarter, located a bit outside the city centre, but more or less within the bounds of Nonnebakken, a largely-vanished Viking ring fortress. Housed in a 19th-century former pharmacy, the interior very much reminded me of Monk’s in Philadelphia, and I was immediately offered a comprehensive beer menu that was at least partially in English. More importantly, the very friendly bartender made a point of finding out what I liked and what I was looking for (despite my vague ‘interesting local beers’ opening), and I knew I had found ‘my place’ in Odense. Carlsens Kvarter’s outstanding house pilsner is brewed by a tiny nanobrewery called Familien Ølgaard, but I think my favourite beer of the entire trip was Christian Bale Ale, by Dry & Bitter Brewing Company – another recommendation, and one that did not disappoint, ‘quirky’ name notwithstanding.

And while there are plenty of Danish craft beer offerings, Odense’s skyline (if we can call it that) is dominated by the giraffe-spotted smokestack of Albani Brewery, which has been part of Royal Unibrew since 2000 for people who care about that sort of thing. Albani’s Pilsner is the local rival to Carlsberg, and it is generally available around Odense, as is their Odense Classic, a Vienna lager that was introduced in the 1990s to celebrate the brewery’s 140th anniversary. The giraffe branding is thanks to their Giraf Beer, ‘…a strong golden lager – drier than its rival Carlsberg Elephant’ to quote Michael Jackson in his Pocket Guide to Beer. It seems the brewery had long used Odense Zoo’s giraffe in their advertising, but when the incumbent died in 1962, the beer was brewed to raise funds to purchase another – the more you know. I’ve been told that the Albani Brewery tour is very good, but could not find anything useful about it in English, so had to content myself with going back to Anarkist for another round – and my impression was very different the second time around.

I’d had time to do a bit more research (for this read, ‘talking to actual locals who could tell me, an ignorant person who only speaks one language well – useful things’), and while it had been reasonably obvious that Anarkist was to Albani what Jacobsen is to Carlsberg, there were a few more brands to unpack – and a little archaeology. While Albani is the ‘mother ship’ today, the brewery that sprawls over this part of the city in a way that is not at all dissimilar to St. James’s Gate and Dublin 8, was originally founded by pharmacist Theodor Schiøtz in 1859. His name lives on today as one of the various sub-brands under the Royal Unibrew/Albani banner, along with Anarkist and Kissmeyer (the latter founded by Anders Kissmeyer, previously of Carlsberg and Nørrebro Bryghus), and all are on offer at Anarkist, which looks every inch the modern taproom on the edge of the late 19th-mid 20th century Albani brewery complex. On my second visit it was much quieter, and I had a chance to take a proper look at the taplist – and had some very good beers this time. I also had time to take a look at the merchandise and the archaeology-on-display: although my Danish is – as evidenced by this piece – atrocious, I at least got the gist of the text explaining the wooden lining of a brewery well built c. 1300 nearby. I came away with a completely revised impression of the space, and look forward to returning on future visits.

Finally, it’s impossible to visit Denmark and not see Mikkeller everywhere. As they seem to be trying to move in the ‘right’ direction (certainly compared to Brewdog, at any rate) in their employee dealings, I made a stop at their airport bar, and it was…really great? The variety of beer styles, including a few guest taps, was impressive, and the diversity of sizes was very welcome. I had an absolutely fantastic Vienna lager, and the bar staff were knowledgeable and friendly, in addition to speedy as befits an airport.

In short…I can’t wait to go back…I just need to learn more Danish first!