I can’t say this was an inspired choice. More like the convenient one. Not that this was some hellhole or anything, but it felt a bit like a generic Irish pub plopped down in the middle of a funky town center. A relic. Which I suppose is exactly what it is. No more. No less. Thing is, I enjoy an Irish pub. I like the dark wood and the understanding that it’s not completely out of the question that someone will be punched in the face if they mouth off. Or that you might catch some Gaelic if you listen real carefully.
But, honestly, this is Maplewood, NJ and not some small town on the coast of Ireland. So, probably not a lot of punching. And definitely no Gaelic. But plenty of middle-aged and older balding dudes at the bar and probably some families and whatnot at the surrounding tables earlier in the evening eating pub grub and squinting to see the small print on the menu in the dimness. The bar itself is your typical heavy, dark wood backed with mirrors and lined with bottles of booze and soccer detritus and TV and whatever other Irish and Irish American ephemera you could dream up all over the place. It seems they haven’t been huge fans or enforcers of coasters, as the wood is pretty beat up on the bar surface, but the place could either be 90 years old or 30. It’s impossible to tell. Cover your joint with enough stuff and you both create and destroy personality. Cheap out on acoustic tiling for the ceiling and you turn your authentic pub into a Sizzler. Dive to divine. You know how it is.
We sat at a hightop by the bar, which was kind of awkwardly close to the stools lining the bar itself. Servers squeezing by with plates between my buddy on the interior side of the table and the not-small fella on his stool. In fact, the whole interior of the joint is a little odd. Various levels and booths and tables, bulky fireplaces and weirdly angled walls that kind of cut up the space. And, yeah, I suppose it makes it feel cozy in there, but it also doesn’t engender hanging out. But I suppose it’s more of a restaurant once you get outside the immediate bar area. Granted, this seems to have some aspiration to be a sports bar, so not sure how group watches go when Liverpool, or whomever their team is, is on the tube. It just might be a bit of a challenge to see things consistency with all the schtuff all over and oddball angles. We were there on a weekday night, so it wasn’t incredibly busy or anything, but it still felt as bustling as a pub on a weekday can feel. We didn’t eat anything, but did have Guinnesses. Guinnessi? Anyway, we each had a Guinness and it felt right. Certainly not as good as in Ireland, but that’s not this place’s fault. I feel like I would be down with this place if I lived in town. I like the darkness. I like the unassuming vibe. The food reviews online are pretty brutal, but maybe if you stick to the booze you can make a night of it. At least for a reasonably mellow nightcap.
167 Maplewood Ave. – Maplewood
973/378-2222
stjamesgatemaplewood.com
