Prior to its remodeling in 1998, the Kinsale was less like a tavern and more like a home to the criminally drunk and helplessly stupid. Most of its patrons didn’t care if they fell off their stool, as long as it got them a buy-back on their next Guinness. In fact, the owners tried to rename the bar The Bantree Tavern, but nobody was fooled, and they soon gave up. The undesirables have been replaced by a more upscale crowd that generally stays seated and does more rooting for the Knicks than Manchester United. The bartender, Francis, is a holdover and always manages to remember regulars, or even semi-regulars (along with his tolerance for obscenely underage girls). The place itself sports your typical dark wood and brass, with a nice new flat screen TV hanging over the middle of the bar. The cooks have unfortunately perfected the ancient Irish art of boiling absolutely everything, but the shepherd’s pie is supposed to be great. [MF]
1672 3rd Ave.