Like any good Irish, (lapsed) Catholic, the tippy-top of my
personal food pyramid consists solely of beer.
My poison of choice has always been Guinness, also known as the
Grandfather of Stout. I’ve consumed swimming pools of the stuff, and in doing
so have acquired an obsessive-compulsive system of judging what goes into a
good pint, and what could make Arthur Guinness spin in his barley-laden grave.
So, on a mission straight from God, I seek to find the
absolute best pint in New York City. I’m including all boroughs except Staten
Island (due to my ferry phobia) and I pledge to keep drinking until I find
perfection, or my liver explodes – whichever comes first.
I will report my findings in the form of a point system
broken down into 5 categories worth 10 points each. Perfect pint = 50.
Glass: Must be a
20 oz pint glass, thick and heavy enough to hit or drop accidentally several times
without actually breaking, or to use as a weapon if the situation arises. If someone ever offers you Guinness in a bottle
or God forbid a CAN, slap them with your glove and storm out with a flourish.
Pour: The glass
must be held at a 45-degree angle directly under the tap. Guinness should be
poured to fill three-quarters of the glass, and then allowed to settle – a crucial
step that allows the nitrogen bubbles to shimmy up the sides of the glass and
build the head of the pint. Once settled (usually 2-3 minutes will do), top off
the glass.
Head: Should
extend one millimeter above the edge of the glass, without spilling over. Also, major points deducted for any cutesy
drawings of shamrocks or smiley faces, even on St. Patrick’s Day. No one’s finger should be in your Guinness
but yours, and it’s kind of like dressing up your dog in a bunny outfit:
humiliating, unnecessary, and a waste of time.
Taste: Guinness should
taste creamy, slightly espresso-y, and a bit burnt (due to roasted
barley). You should be able to imagine
adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream and the result tasting good (it does). A bad tasting Guinness, due to improper
storage, pouring, or karma, will taste a bit like watered-down regret. You’ll know it when you taste it.
Bartender/Bartendress: Guinness is only as good as the person
pouring it. If, during the ‘settling’
time, you haven’t learned about the barkeep’s hopes, dreams, astrological sign,
family, and hopes for the future, go elsewhere.
I am lifelong friends with every person who has poured me more than one
Guinness. That’s how it should be.
My first victim was Failte
Irish Bar, 531 2nd
Avenue (between 29th and 30th).
Glass: The
correct 20 oz-er. Appropriate
thickness/weight. 10pts.
Pour: Could’ve
given The Settle another full minute.
6pts.
Head: Spillage. 3pts.
Taste: I enjoyed
immensely. My companion kept referring
to it’s similarity to stale raisin bread, but he was half in the bag by the
time I showed up so his opinion is taken with a grain of salt. 9pts.
Bartender: I
never got his name, political
beliefs, thoughts on the afterlife,
etc. Not unfriendly, but not my new
bff. 5pts.
Total for
Failte: 33 out of 50. Nothing
you’ll want to slap your mama over, but good for one pint….on your way to
another bar.
Stumbling on….