A relatively quiet day in Times Square, the Crossroads of the World
When I first moved to NYC nearly nineteen years ago (gee, I’m old) Times Square was still swarming with adult “bookstores” and crack vials in the gutters. Broadway theatergoers tried to overlook the eyesores and stayed within the acceptable boundaries. There weren’t many megastores (if any) or restaurants that you’d want to bring your family into. But that’s changed.
For me to even write this post is asking for trouble. It might be safer to pick a fight with a 300 pound, 6 foot 4 Scot than to throw out my suggestions for the best Irish bars in New York. The list, of course, is subject to opinion and everyone has theirs. This is mine. And yes, I know that my list is Manhattan-centric. There are some great Irish bars in places like the Woodlawn and Riverdale sections of the Bronx, and in Woodside, Queens, and the Irish Riviera officially know as Breezy Point, but lovingly called Boozy Point. For all I know, there are probably some good Irish bars upstate too. But I know Manhattan best. It’s where I lived about a quarter of my life. It’s also where I’ve wandered the streets for many a St. Patrick’s Day.
If you’re planning to visit New York for St. Patrick’s Day, you’ll probably want to see the parade. New York’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade is the oldest, biggest and self-proclaimed best St. Patrick’s Day parade in the world. New Yorkers first held the parade on March 17, 1762, in honor of the patron saint of the Archdiocese of New York. In a city that holds a parade for just about anyone, it’s now the largest and most famous of New York’s parades. And it does that without allowing any floats, cars or commercial advertising—it’s 100% musicians, politicians, civil servants, club and society members, and other marchers on foot who are all Irish, or at least Irish for the day.
There’s a nearly endless number of restaurants in New York, of course, and accommodations for every taste and budget. (Or you could just sleep on the floor in Grand Central Terminal and wake up for a train in the morning. Not that I know anyone who’s done that.) But, if you’re going to New York for the St. Patrick’s Day parade, the day isn’t complete without a stop in an Irish pub.
If you’re uneasy about what you might be walking into in an Irish bar on St. Patrick’s Day, don’t be. One of the things I most love about Irish bars and restaurants in Manhattan every March 17 is that entire families come after the parade to continue celebrating. Not all of them are like that, but you can find quite a few family-friendly establishments where moms, dads, grandparents and kids are all enjoying the day. Of course, if you want a loud, young, come-here-just-for-the-drink type of place, New York has that too.
Paddy Reilly’s, at 519 Second Avenue near East 29th Street, is one of the best bars in the City for live Irish music. Mildly famous bands like Black 47 got their start playing weekly here, when I’d crowd in with scores of other middle and upper-class twenty-somethings to sing along and shake our firsts for the Irish proletariat. The bar has a dark, dingy, needs-to-be-cleaned look, but one that makes the young Irish and Irish-wannabes feel right at home. What’s more—the only beer on tap is Guinness. Who could ask for anything more?
Speaking of dark and dingy, McSorley’s Old Ale House, at 15 East 7th Street, is the original dark and dingy Irish-American bar. Seriously. There’s probably dust in there that’s older than our great-grandparents. It’s been open since 1854 and has the reputation for being no-nonsense and stubborn in its ways. Women weren’t allowed in until 1970, and didn’t get a separate restroom until 1986. The bar also serves only two kinds of beer—light and dark—and you’re expected to buy two at a time. You want something else? Find yourself a bar with a menu. McSorely’s also has the reputation for being overcrowded with college kids, but how many bars can you go to that once welcomed Abraham Lincoln? It’s educational, really.
Molly’s Pub & Restaurant, at 287 Third Avenue near 22nd Street, is one of the more family-friendly establishments among the Irish bars of New York. It’s been called “the most authentic Irish bar in the City” and “New York’s finest Irish pub.” Like most other Irish bars, Molly’s is dark—but at Molly’s, dark isn’t dingy, but warm and cozy with even a log-burning fireplace to add to the charm. Molly’s also has a full menu and gets great reviews and high ratings for its food as well as its beer.
Originally on West 48th Street, the Pig n’ Whistle now has three midtown locations—Third Avenue, Second Avenue, and the most tourist-friendly of the three in Times Square at 165 West 47th Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenues. Unlike other Irish bars, the Pig n’ Whistle is large, bright and polished. It also has a full dinner and bar menu and gets some great reviews for its food. The Pig n’ Whistle still has a lot of Irish left in it though. By calling itself the “Best Irish Pub” in New York, for example, it just sounds like it’s askin’ for a fight.
Finally, there’s Dublin House at 225 West 79th Street near Broadway. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home. Dublin House was my Irish bar. There were bars closer to my ‘hood near Columbia University, some that I went to too often and another (now closed) that was also an Irish pub, but Dublin House is the place that I always thought of as the local Irish bar. From the dark narrow room to the Guinness on tap to the authentic brogues on the bartenders, this was St. Patrick’s Day to me. I’m sure that I’d feel old now in an evening crowd of twenty-somethings, but I’d probably still feel young, late in the afternoons, sitting with the old regulars at the bar. That’s the beauty of an Irish bar—that there’s always a welcome, a fáilte, for everyone. With apologies to Robert Frost, an Irish bar is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in.
Too bad California will be paying tax refunds with I.O.U’s. I was going to pay for our recent day trip to New York City with that. Maybe theaters will start taking I.O.U.’s pretty soon? No?
I was back in Connecticut visiting my family and a group of friends graciously moved their NYC day trip up to January so my husband and I could be included. We were pretty terrified of going into the city and (gasp) walking from place to place when the forecast called for 20-degree weather and snow. Turns out, it was fun and even beautiful.
Eight of us took the Metro North Railroad ($25 round trip ticket purchased at the automatic ticket machine with a credit card) to Grand Central Station, where much to the dismay of our more city-savvy friends, some of us stared up at the incredible ceiling. Don’t miss it with its constellations and intricate art. It’s been cleaned recently, and the cleaners left a tiny patch of dirt to show you just how dirty it once was (black).
From the station we walked to the Stage Delicatessen, home of the 4-inch pastrami sandwich. All sandwiches were completely devoured. Not sure how. The place was PACKED but we managed to get in and sit at two separate tables (lunch cost about $20 per person) and then get out in time to make it to the show.
As we walked to the Gershwin Theatre, home of Wicked (tix cost $160 per person, purchased ahead of time online) it started to snow. We were all bundled up nicely, so nobody really noticed or minded the cold. And the snow made it all so, as my mother likes to say, romantic.
The Gershwin Theatre lobby is decked out with cool props from the set and signs that warn you about entering and exiting Oz. Also? Beer sippy cups. Worth the $9 price with $5 refill for a crappy can of Bud Light. Our seats for Wicked were almost all the way in the back, but still good. One of those places where every seat in the house is a good seat. During intermission the beer lines were long and the women’s bathroom lines were longer. Don’t try to beat the lines by skipping out too early before intermission however, my friend did that and missed the best scene of the show!
After the show we all walked, in thicker snow, to Carmine’s, a family-style Italian restaurant where you basically eat like you’re at an Italian wedding. The post-theater crowd was crushed together at the bar and in the waiting area, but thank goodness (and my friend Robert) we had reservations, so it was not a long wait for our big group. Nine of us (Robert joined us for dinner) had several plates of appetizers, several more plates of dinner, a tiramisu, and several bottles of wine. Final tab was about $60 per person.
Riding on the high of warm food (and wine) consumed in good company and inside a warm restaurant, we all decided to walk to a bar where the atmosphere was low-key and the music level was also low enough that we could still talk to each other. Going by those requirements, someone had recommended Under the Volcano a tequila bar which did not disappoint. The music was from the bartender’s iPod, there was plenty of seating at the early hour of 9PM, and nobody tried the tequila. An unspecified bar tab later shows that we did try other things.
At some point someone realized that we’d better get back to Grand Central or we wouldn’t be making it home that night. We made it just in time to wait 40 minutes for our train (too bad, because I had a fantasy that we’d get to stay in some kind of nice hotel, credit card bill be damned). More staring at the ceiling ensued. In all, despite the fat price tag, the trip was worth it, even if we never did get to stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts.
Speaking of dark and dingy, 
Molly’s Pub & Restaurant
Finally, there’s 
