Sometimes, it really is all about The Socials.
I confess that I’d never particularly noticed TP Smith’s, despite having frequent need to go to the Jervis Centre, the rather-depressing shopping mall just across the Luas tracks from the pub. Although some of the historic façade has been maintained, you’d be hard-pressed to notice it when walking past the mall in question, and while there are especially useful branches of Boots and Marks & Spencer contained within, there’s little else to recommend it as a destination as opposed to a duty to be ticked off a list. It has that generic, draining mall lighting you find all around the world; a therapeutic pint after venturing into this sort of consumerist hellscape is practically a balm for the soul.
My typical thank-goodness-that’s-over post-shopping pint is more typically at The Black Sheep, just a short walk away on Capel Street, but I recently caught a video on the Instas from Rascals – one of my favourite spots for a pint and pizza – recommending a visit to TP Smith’s, as they now have their delicious Sidekick IPA on tap. Sidekick may well be my favourite new beer of the last year: it’s a solid, old-school West Coast IPA – not a bit of haze. And while it’s available at Rascals itself, I’ve only ever seen it in cans closer to me. And given that I had a long-procrastinated trip to the Jervis Centre on my to-do list, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to stop in.
The 18th century exterior – well-kept for this part of town – is quite deceptive. I was surprised by just how large this TARDIS-like pub is on the inside – three levels, and plenty of room all around. The giant mosaic on one wall and what can only be described as a ‘statement’ spiral staircase, all in copper, make quite a change from the usual pub décor. And yet, the rest of the pub has the more typical dark wood, cosy fireplaces and smaller tables and chairs to sit with groups of various sizes. But it was really the combination of the beer menu – not just two different beers from Rascals, but also several Rye River and Galway Bay beers on tap, plus some less-seen macros, like Blue Moon, Kilkenny and Smithwicks Pale Ale in addition to the more common Smithwicks Red, Guinness, Beamish and Harp. And there was another bonus: a promotion on Rascals pints, making them only €6 a pop.
While I don’t expect this bargain to last for long, it was a most welcome sight. I’m quite pleased for the good people at Rascals to have alerted me to their beers in this part of town. Given that I’ve only recently managed to make it to another hidden gem of Dublin, the medieval St Mary’s Abbey chapter house just a short walk away, I suppose I’m still in discovery mode, 5 years into life here.
Let’s hope for more ‘unexpected’ pubs offering local independent beer to appear in the near future…
Where: 9-10, Jervis St, North City, Dublin 1, D01 XV66
Access from the city centre: Luas Green Line, 10-ish minute walk
Food: Pub grub, toasties
Sport: All the sport
TVs: Quite a few all around the large pub
Music: A bit MOR
Family-friendliness: Kids’ menu got a thumbs-up from our test child
Pub-crawl-ability: High – The Church, The Black Sheep, Underdog, The King’s Inn, Fidelity, Bonobo, J McNeill’s, The Norseman, Porterhouse Temple Bar…and more in all directions
Local sites of note: Jervis Centre, Chapters Bookstore, St Mary’s Abbey, Wolfe Tone Square, National Leprechaun Museum, ILAC Centre
Haunted: Next door’s long-derelict building surely has a few tales
Other notes: Part of the same ownership group as The Norseman, among others
Socials: Instagram, Facebook
And while you’re not really here for the beer – labelled moderately-pretentiously-but-it-works as ‘pale ale,’ ‘lager’ and ‘stout’ in lower-case cursive on gold tap towers – they are, for the record, the Changing Times pale ale, Birra Moretti and, of course, Guinness. But if it’s good beer you’re after, you can do what we did and stop off at 
This week’s pub is one that we’ve both been asked to profile repeatedly, and, in nearly equal measure, begged not to reveal it as a secret hidden gem. Is it possible to satisfy both of these audiences? Let’s find out – and so, we venture back to Marlborough Street, home to 
Also unlike many other Old Man Pubs, there was an independent beer option: Kinnegar’s Scraggy Bay. In some pubs that don’t have that kind of turnover for non-Guinness options, they aren’t always as fresh, but there were no such issues here. Guinness was, of course, plentiful, but there were many pints of lager being consumed, too – it is slightly unusual to see Tuborg on one of the taps in a Dublin pub, but I have a soft spot for many Carlsberg products, so it was quite welcome. The décor is, again, by no means fancy, but it’s very well-kept: red and cream paint, lighter wood tones and simple brass lamps on the bar. The crowd was clearly mostly regulars, and although most were deeply invested in the multiple channels of horse racing, there were other long-running conversations, too.
And while it may be true that this is not the cleanest nor most well-kept part of Dublin, that is presumably part of what keeps the tourists away, Georgian architecture notwithstanding. And although some parts of Reddit may be thoroughly convinced that we’re all just waiting to get murdered north of the Liffey, there are signs of positive development; newer pubs like The Morris Bar, just a short walk away, suggest that things are slowly improving. But for a pub like Briody’s that’s been here for over a century in various guises, it seems to be content to keep its current mix of regulars and semi-regulars who drop in whenever they are in town.
Edit again, mid-April 2025: Welcome to 
We’ll come back to his point about the people later, but at first glance, I had the same reaction – why on earth had what looked like an Oirsh pub been dropped into the centre of Dublin? While it’s true that there are Dublin pubs that cater more to the tourist trade than to locals (and not just in Temple Bar) that do dip into a more stereotypical ‘Irish pub’ feel, to tip over into what we might call Full Oirish seemed, well, unseemly. Unnecessary. Just a bit, well, naff.
While it’s still a small spot, the dark wood and low lighting add to the cosy feel, and the interior décor is very much ‘Easter Rising’ themed with images of the leaders around the pub, it doesn’t veer off into a theme park feel; indeed, given that the pub is steps away from the GPO, if the interior matched the exterior sign, it could easily career rapidly into the realm of the offensive. But – and here’s the thing – it does not! It’s quite nice! It includes portraits of many of the women involved – something especially notable if, like me, you’ve recently watched ‘Michael Collins’ for the first and only time, and wondered where the women were…but I digress.
Sometimes, just sometimes, a fantastic new(ish) pub pops up where you least expect it. Dublin’s Talbot Street has had a lot of publicity 
At that time, the shopfront that is now the pub was The Morris Wallpaper Stores, and the signage from that era has been preserved above the door. The theme continues inside, with framed William Morris wallpaper samples on the exposed brick, giving a mix of industrial chic and cosy early-20th century-pub vibes. There’s a pizza spot toward the back (check for opening hours, as these things evolve) with more communal-styles tables, but the seating in the main bar is much ‘pubbier,’ and very comfortable indeed.
There’s a good mix of the usual Guinness-and-friends offerings, but also a handy Rye River tap, as well as Beamish for the Corkonians in your life. The cocktail list is interesting as well. On our visit, the staff were all wonderful, and the attention to detail that went into the design of the pub is evident. It hits just the right mark of honouring the building’s past without feeling like a theme pub.
This week’s pub isn’t especially Christmassy, nor is it one I frequent, but it is one that appeals to tourists and locals alike, so here we are. The Confession Box’s claim to be the smallest pub in Dublin may not be entirely accurate, but it does have historic bona fides; mixing a bit of fact and myth is almost par for the course in modern pub marketing (indeed, also in historic pub marketing), so we’ll consider it part of the furniture.
But The Confession Box didn’t start out as a pub, and its 
Given the concentration of pubs in this part of town (and easy proximity to the Luas), it’s a good shout to include for a pub crawl; for those not afraid of the north side of the Liffey, there’s something for everyone in this area of Dublin.
I recently read Back to the Local, Maurice Gorham’s recently-republished guide to London pubs, initially written just after the Second World War. While there is much in the book that is fascinating to the beer history nerd, from drinks terminology to changing pub names and elegies for those lost in the Blitz, Gorham’s chronicling of the various ‘Irish houses’ was, naturally, of special interest.
Without diving into a full history of 
Even if it’s not, strictly speaking, the same Mooney’s that once had a relatively-expansive portfolio of pubs around the city (or, more accurately, cities), it’s no bad thing to see a nod to a historic name in a newer establishment. The current décor may seem a little bit staged as it’s just been tidied up, but, given time, it should gain a bit more of a patina; it does come by it honestly. Indeed, it’s a fine addition to this part of Abbey Street which can otherwise veer somewhat wildly between very staid and corporate and too run down for its own good – a lively, welcoming pub offers a useful anchor.
