Beyond Guinness: Tap into Ireland’s brave new boozescape
Last summer, Scotland’s Inner Hebrides — an archipelago off the west coast — was so overrun with tourists, residents asked them to steer clear — a disappointment to many whiskey obsessives.
For them, a trip to the southernmost island of Islay for a snifter in situ is a bucket list goal. For a satisfying alternative, avoid the crowds by detouring to Ireland instead. The Emerald Isle’s production of the lovingly nicknamed “water of life” may form just 6 percent of the worldwide whiskey market, but the soft, sweeter version produced here is starting to challenge Scotland’s status among connoisseurs.
Just a decade ago, there were six distilleries in the country, down from hundreds in their heyday; Ireland’s whiskey production imploded in the 1900s thanks to a lethal combination of temperance drives, Prohibition stateside and an overall economic slowdown after independence from the UK.
But now, in the cocktail-loving 21st century, Ireland’s whiskey makers are staging a comeback, with more than 20 already operating distilleries and dozens more planned. Some are within Dublin’s city limits, like Teeling. There’s also Pearse Lyons, which launched in September in a deconsecrated church.
Others are a short drive from the capital: Standouts include the new, rock ’n’ roll-infused Slane distillery.
Then there’s Tullamore’s splashy new home in the heart of the country. “It’s like [Batman’s] Wayne Manor, but for whiskey,” says brand ambassador Kevin Piggott, leading a group around the $115 million project.
Though the label is almost 200 years old, its original distillery shuttered in 1954; whiskey was then bought in from other producers and painstakingly blended to produce Tullamore’s signature D.E.W. But here, where the enormous, handmade copper stills idling in a huge hangar resemble mechanical dinosaurs, Piggott and his team are able to oversee every aspect of production.
Situated on reclaimed bogland just outside the town from which the whiskey takes its name, the distillery is just a two-hour drive from Dublin through scenic Irish countryside. Be one of the first to explore the site via a private VIP tour.
The exhaustive four-hour trek is capped, of course, with a tasting of its various bottles, like the brand new Cider cask finish ($175 per person).
The rising profile of Irish whiskey has in turn boosted in the caliber of bars in Dublin, too. Cocktail joints now jostle for prominence with classic pubs like the beloved Palace Bar, which offers more than 100 whiskies by the glass. Five-year old Vintage Cocktail Club in the nightlife-filled area of Temple Bar was arguably the model for Dublin’s many followers. It’s a speakeasy-inspired joint with a hidden doorbell, candlelit parlors and a menu with drinks listed by date of their creation in history. Be brave and opt for one of the absinthe-based medieval creations.
Peruke & Periwig, concealed behind the façade of a former wigmakers (hence the name), and sibling spot The Liquor Rooms, inside the basement of the Bono-owned Clarence Hotel, are exuberant and winningly kitschy, with a Ringling Brothers-meets-Karl Lagerfeld décor. At the latter, wander through the warren of rooms until you find the full-sized stuffed bear for an irresistible, Instagrammable moment.
Easily found thanks to the bright-colored umbrellas strung upright across the alley from its entrance, Zozimus has a more energetic spirit. Named after a blind street rhymer from working-class Dublin neighborhood the Liberties, Zozimus is an art deco-inspired spot with comfy banquettes and classic drinks. A Tullamore-powered Irish coffee here will dispel any prejudices developed about the sickly sweet, hot milkshake-like atrocity served all over America.
It isn’t just cocktails that have seen a quality upgrade. If you’ve already drunk deep at the Guinness headquarters in the Liberties, there’s now a slew of smaller craft brewhouses to visit, too.
One of the newest is Urban Brewing, located inside the brick-walled vaults of the erstwhile Customs House, a once-abandoned warehouse now glossily redeveloped and redubbed CHQ. Head brewer Mickey Lynch creates small batches of new flavors on-site. (Ask for a tour of the mezzanine overlooking the restaurant, where his machinery is stashed.) The mineral-heavy hard water in most of Ireland favors darker beers, Lynch explains, which makes Urban Brewing a rare light-beer specialist. “When we opened, we checked with the municipal supply,” he says. “We’re in a small patch of very soft water here, so we had to adjust our plans.”
L. Mulligan Grocer is another top grog stop. Most Irish drinking dens haven’t yet morphed into the swankier gastropubs now common in the UK; this is an exception. Wash down house-made Scotch eggs with dozens of different beers — try the bargain Lucky Dip, where spare bottles are served in brown paper bags for just $5.75. And if you rent a two-bedroom apartment above L. Mulligan on Airbnb, the fridge will be stocked with beer, and you’ll easily stagger home at evening’s end.
Otherwise, P’Mac’s earned the top craft beer spot at this year’s local bar awards. Namesake co-owner Paul McNulty keeps 30 different brews on tap, and serves them up to a steampunkish group of regulars.
Just go now, before Dublin’s whiskey-chasing crowds start to rival those across the sea in Scotland.
The author was a guest of William Grant & Sons.