Andrew Braithwaite

"Man, I missed it so much. See, the thing is, it's perfect. The perfect beer. Their new slogan should be `Smithwick's: The Perfect Beer.'"

This from my friend Matt as we stand at the bar, surrounded by the after-work crowd at Fado Irish Pub, sipping our creamy red brew. It's only been a couple of weeks now since Smithwick's, first brewed in Kilkenny, Ireland in 1710, has been available in the Land of the Free.

In Ireland, a three-headed beer monster rules the market: Guinness (the stout), Harp (the lager), and Smithwick's (the ale) all operate under the umbrella of one giant beer conglomerate. The first two you probably know; the third you might not, since you simply couldn't get it here for thirty years--you had to travel to the Emerald Isle (or across the border to Canada) to savor this sweet ale.

Having sucked down my share of Smithwick's during a summer in Dublin, I was overjoyed to hear rumors circulating earlier this month among the brew's fierce devotees that Guinness's licensing agreement to distribute Bass Ale here in America had elapsed without being renewed, and had been picked up by the good people at Labatt's. (Smithwick's hasn't been introduced to the U.S. market by the folks at Guinness until now because it would have been in direct ale-versus-ale competition with Bass.)

I ask Dave the bartender how the reception's been for the new brew. "People are really attached to their Smithwick's," he says of the beer (pronounced "Smiddick's" by those in the know) that's only been available at Fado's for two weeks now. "We ripped through the first two barrels pretty quick." When I ask if he's noticed any change in the demand for Bass, he grins. "Actually, a couple Bass reps were in here just the other night. We were joking about it behind the bar--figured they were in here defending their turf."

Suddenly a tall kid stumbles past me to get to the bar, and it appears that his after-work drinks started a few hours before mine. "Can I get four Bud Lights?" he screams in a thick Irish accent. I ask him why he's not drinking Smithwick's.

"Oh, right! You know it too? It's fantastic stuff!" he shouts. So what's with the Bud Lights?

"Cheaper," he says. "I've already had plenty of that stuff this week. Great stuff. Man, you know how much they charge for the good stuff?!"

"Wait, we're supposed to pay for these?" I say. It takes him a second to work past my straight-faced delivery.

"Oh, ha ha. Hey, can I have a sip?" he jokes back.

(2004-03-18)

Also by Andrew Braithwaite

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