Tag Archive for: stoneybatter

Hyne’s: Prussia St.

We were fairly taken with the whole pintman thing when it took off on the net earlier during the year. It shone a light on a culture we’d been in the middle of for years. It had it all: pints, pubs, and more pints, what more could one ask for?

Unfortunately brand pintman slowly but surely became a victim of its own success and the author finds nowadays that your average Facebook “pintman” is a techy seventeen-year-old who can barely hold a few bottles of Smirnoff ice in some midland English Wetherspoons, let alone keep a feed of stout down in a Dublin boozer.

Hyne’s: Prussia St.

Let it not be said that we’re sad that it’s over be rather we’re happy that it happenedand and just as Rick and Ilsa will always have Paris – We’ll always have Hynes, Paddy.

Hyne’s became somewhat of an overnight drinking mecca due to the popularity of the aforementioned pintman craze. Said to be the main man Paddy Losty’s local the pub is now enshrined in the landscape of famous Dublin boozers. Of course, we had to go and have a look.

Entering the bar on a sunny afternoon we sat at the end of the bar and were greeted by the barman who took our order and asked us if we wanted the use of the telly. He put on the match for us and returned us a few top-notch pints.

The long bar boasts a fair amount of exposed red brick which the majority of us agreed was pleasing to the eye. Our table was a repurposed Singer sewing table which was a taking point also. The place was nicely lit given that the sun was beaming from the door straight through the length of the bar. One of the lads reckoned it was a bit spiritual “like newgrange and tha” but that was probably just the pints kicking in.

The locals were good craic and Paddy’s legacy was well protected with the amount of pints being put away by some of them. All in all Hyne’s is a solid shop. Great pint, great staff and sound locals. Well worth a look.

Hanlon’s: Hanlon’s Corner

Recently we were pinting of a weekend in Stoneybatter and took in Hanlon’s (amongst others). We arrived mid-afternoon, still a touch tender from the previous night’s shenanigans.

We settled in the bar which ticked all the proverbial aesthetic boxes – it being sectioned by dark woodwork which contrasted well with a lighter mosaic tiling underfoot. Panoramic windows left older patrons’ eyes unstrained in the reading of their papers as they propped up against a bar which runs along the space in harmony with the shape of the building. Sitting at this bar one could gaze in appreciation of an antique register behind it; whilst another could look beyond it and muse over a clay head that was either a toddler’s art homework or a medical study of the woes of elephantiasis.

Hanlon’s: Hanlon’s Corner

The pint was grand; drinkable and well under a fiver. We ordered a cordial at no charge too which deserves an honourable mention. The locals were of good character, I’d a bit of an earwig on a few lads debating over what year Dublin Bus introduced power steering and it was like listening to some sort of unearthed Sean O Casey text.

About halfway through our jars, an elder local who happened to be garbed entirely in golfing gear arrived and duly ordered a pint. Having settled beside us we noticed that he was scoping us out a bit. Upon a lull in our chat, he sensed his opening and interjected by thrusting a finger toward one of our pints and merrily asked “What’s that?” A bit taken aback one of us responded “That’s a lovely big pint is what that is”. Unsatisfied with our answer he replied asking “Dyis wanna know what that is?” “G’wan” we answered. He paused before finally answering “That’s a cappuccino!” he proudly exclaimed. “A cappuccino, that what that is” he suffixed in the midst of our bemused laughter.

He went on to regale us with tales of his golfing career to date all while ignoring the seven or so questions we asked about how his game had gone that day. As we polished the dregs of our jars and made for the exit the encounter was made all the more strange as our golfing buddy requested one of the lads to sit on his lap. He politely declined.