In the mid-19th century, traditional Irish pubs began to create “snugs,” a small booth or table located near the bar that allowed women (or often, the wealthy) to drink in a less conspicuous, private way.
When it comes to Irish pubs these days, you might hear more about “splitting the G” — a clever marketing ploy by Guinness that challenges consumers to down enough in one gulp that the beer line is mid-G on the glass — than finding a snug.
But one thing always rings true about the Irish (or, Irish Americans): they’ve nailed hospitality, especially when it comes to cozy bar spaces and comfort food. If you’re lucky (pun intended), you’ll find a bit of craic at an Irish pub as well — from live music and perfect Guinness pours to a wood-burning fireplace and someone wit’ a wee accent. Ahead of St. Patrick’s Day (season) 2025, CITY visited seven of the area’s Irish pubs, from Batavia to Penfield.
Timothy Patrick’s (TP’s) Irish Restaurant and Sports Pub
916 Panorama Trail, Penfield | tpsirishpub.com
My first visit to TP’s was on a frigid Tuesday night, the kind that’s so cold your fingers hurt when they hit warm air again. My friend Thera and I had been talking about an Irish pub crawl of sorts to celebrate our mutual celtic roots, so did she want to meet me? Yes, grand! Before that, she texted her criteria for a solid pub experience — among my favorites were: Someone knows someone you know (or thinks they do) from your family’s hometown in Ireland; at least one guy no one likes that won’t stop talking that the bartender has to cut off (but he’ll be back in an hour); music or poetry; a fireplace is a bonus.
With its white cottage exterior trimmed in green and a luminous neon shamrock in each window, TP’s cosplays a stereotypical countryside pub nicely and could be plopped anywhere in the Dingle Peninsula without a sidelong glance. Inside, wooden booths along the outside walls offer almost as much privacy as snugs, but those willing to sit out on the open floor are rewarded with the warmth of a crackling fireplace (obviously, Thera and I end up here). Tacked up on the walls and soaring ceiling are the 26 county flags of Ireland — for the uninitiated, Irish folk identify heavily by family name and county (Sheridan, O’Connor, County Cork for me).
Like most Irish American pubs, TP’s wisely relies on the greatest hits: reuben, fish fry, shepherd’s (lamb) or cottage (beef) pie, perhaps a Guinness cake or cheese sauce. Corned beef and cabbage is usually reserved for St. Paddy’s (and hilariously, isn’t something the Irish really eat, much less for a holiday). To please very American palates, there are burgers, salads and steaks at TP’s as well. The standout during our visit was the Irish coffee — strong, piping hot and topped with a dollop of thick, sweet whipped cream.
Because TP’s also identifies as a sports bar (a more recent branding decision by new-ish owner Philip Fiorella, the nephew of founder Timothy Patrick Baumer), there are TVs around the bar area, but they’re divided from the dining room in a way that doesn’t detract from the hominess. In the words of my friend Thera, if “this weather has me craving” a pint and a reason to exercise the gift o’ gab with a mate, I’m quite likely to return to TP’s. —LEAH STACY
O’Lacy’s Irish Pub
5 School St., Batavia | facebook.com/OLACYSIRISHPUB
There was a time my newly minted 21-year-old self and my partner couldn’t resist sauntering the mile from Bank Street to School Street in Batavia to “a humble scene in a backward place,” as the poet Patrick Kavanagh wrote.
Here, in the middle of this humble little docking station town between Rochester and Buffalo, is a fully realized Irish pub: O’Lacy’s.
The first time we visited, we were seated at an awkward wooden table and uncomfortable wooden chairs positioned essentially in the walkway between the bar, bathroom and kitchen. We ordered the reuben and shepherd’s pie. Cracked into the toasted bread, Thousand Island dressing, corned beef. Succulent. Spooned deep past the mashed potatoes to the lamb, carrots, peas. Exploding. And the house chips with the “secret” dipping sauce? Start with them. End with them. Always get them.
Cheers, MacLarens — O’Lacy’s holds up to any famous watering hole depiction. Music and dancing. Laughing and fighting. Plotting and celebration. Rheumy-eyed patrons stuck to bar stools and bushy-tailed townies trying to warm up to the bar. It isn’t where life unfolds, it’s where life thrives.
The bartenders entertain like two-thirds of the Three Stooges, roping patrons in to make up the other third, all while pouring Guinness and finishing each with a clover in the foam. Servers dance the floor between each guest with the proper amount of sass, disdain, heart and humor — delivering everything you’d want, sometimes before you knew it.
The decor is the clutter of Irish iconography: flags, bottle caps, framed quotes and hymns and Irish drinking songs. Maps. Batavian city history. Classic pre-WWII Guinness propaganda. Residuals of ruckus from St. Paddy’s of yore. It’s all etched into the grain of the wood, just waiting.
It’s easy to feel completely overwhelmed but also welcomed, transported. Back then, my 21-year-old brain was filled with the reality of rent, bills and sprawling uncertainty. Going there now, 12 years later, one would think it would feel like coming back to a childhood home and experiencing that sense of disorientation, loss, jealousy at how strangers were able to create a whole new life here, with all new stories — erasing what you had cherished.
But cuddled up with my partner at that same awkward wooden table, reuben in one hand and a freshly poured Guinness in the other, as someone hums an Irish drinking song under their breath — it’s just like coming home. Coming back to life. —JORDAN TAYLOR
Carroll’s Bar & Restaurant
1768 E. Main St., Rochester | facebook.com/jocarrollsbar
Carroll’s isn’t just the oldest Irish bar in Rochester—it’s the kind of place that sinks into your bones. The floors groan under the weight of a thousand nights well spent, the
Guinness is poured slow and proper, and the bartenders—hell, they’ll walk you to your car at night, not because they have to, but because that’s just how things are done here.
Patrick Dunne, straight outta Drimnagh, Dublin, landed in the U.S. in 1971. By ’89, he found his spot behind Carroll’s bar and stayed put for three decades. Thirty years slinging drinks in the same place? That’s the stuff of legends. He just hung up his apron, but Carroll’s keeps rolling along like a well-worn secret, the kind of bar that doesn’t just survive, it outlives.
This isn’t some corporate chain with a soulless owner. Carroll’s is a family, passed down from parents to kids, each generation adding their own chapter to its storied history. It’s a living, breathing testament to what a neighborhood bar should be.
And then there’s Monday nights. If you know, you know. For years, musicians have packed into a corner of the bar, elbow to elbow, tuning fiddles, plucking banjos, passing around old songs like a shared pint. No stage, no ego —just the music of their people, raw and unpolished, the way it was meant to be played. It started with fiddler Lynn Pilaroscia, and even though he’s gone, his rhythm still lingers, carried in every reel and jig that shakes the dust from the floorboards.
Carroll’s isn’t a theme park version of an Irish bar. It’s not trying to sell you some watered-down version of tradition. It just is. A bar where the past and present blur, where time slows, where the music never really stops. —ABBY QUATRO
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Mulconry’s Irish Pub and Restaurant
17 Liftbridge Lane E., Fairport | mulconrys.com
Alongside the clinking of glasses and twinkling candlelight, the first thing one notices when they walk into Mulconry’s — the popular Irish pub located in the heart of the Village of Fairport — is a wooden sign in the entryway that reads “céad míle fáilte,” a Gaelic phrase that roughly translates to “a thousand welcomes.” Based on the scores of guests that walk past it every night to grab a drink, watch a game with friends and share a meal with family, it couldn’t be anymore indicative of the Irish hospitality owner Damien Mulconry has spearheaded day in and day out since the pub opened nearly 20 years ago.
The Carrigaline, Ireland native first opened his namesake bar in April 2008 in hopes of bringing “a little piece of Ireland” to Rochester’s east side. From Guinness memorabilia to Buffalo Bills gear, Mulconry’s is as proud of its Western New York heritage as it is of its deep connection to the Emerald Isle. Mulconry’s logo — a silhouette of Damien’s grandfather — is proudly emblazoned atop each menu, which features scores of traditional Irish fare like bangers and bash and shepherd’s pie as well as regional favorites like Chicken French. Not in the mood for a Guinness? Other options include Smithwick’s, Harp Lager and Mulconry’s Blueberry Ale.
The menu also features a culinary ode to “The Tonight Show” host Jimmy Fallon in the form of his very own sandwich, The Jimmy Fallon Patty Melt, described as “a little toasted and a little cheesy.” The “Saturday Night Live” veteran has made several visits to the two-story hideaway in Fairport, most recently surprising patrons with a live musical performance to ring in St. Patrick’s Day 2023 (and even more recently around Rochester earlier this month). Mulconry and Fallon struck up a friendship years ago, when Mulconry served as a bartender at The Gaf West, an Irish pub in Hell’s Kitchen frequented by Fallon.
Mulconry’s has a jam-packed lineup in store for St. Patrick’s Day weekend 2025, with performances from Open G, Rince Na Tianna Irish Dancers, The Living Room Session and Irish natives The Galtee Mountain Boys. Whether Fallon will return to serenade pubgoers this year remains under wraps. —JULIA SMITH
O’Callaghan’s
470 Monroe Ave., Rochester | ocallspub.com
Born from RIT alumnus Tom O’Callaghan and Kevin Barton, Monroe Ave. staple O’Callaghans (or O’Cal’s) has stood the test of time. As it comes up on its 20-year anniversary this year, it’s survived in an area of the city historically unkind to keeping bars in business.
With all the trappings of a casual pub and eatery, O’Callaghan’s has an expansive menu and bar. In a world where chicken wing prices have run afoul, the 24-hour smoked wings are 25% off during a Sunday football game (or any other Sunday). In addition, daily food and drink specials heavily discount a selection already priced lower than most other area pubs.
O’Callaghan’s hosts some of the most raucous St. Patrick’s Day parties — it’s a rite of passage to cram into the pub on Paddy’s Day weekend for a pint of the black stuff and their holiday menu. Shuffle in at 8 a.m. for corned beef hash and eggs, chased with an Irish breakfast: whiskey, butterscotch Schnapps, OJ. Return later for house shepherd’s pie, corned beef and cabbage and Guinness beef stew to fortify the alcohol-soaking foundation needed to survive the day.
Open until 2 a.m. 365 days per year (with some modified holiday hours), O’Callaghan’s is the perfect place to wash away tenuous family time or meet up with your found family — because it’s the people there who make O’Callaghan’s special. The pub is staffed by a crew that’s jovial, kind and more than a little witty. They’ll vehemently defend each other and their patrons; tolerance for disrespect is non-existent. In 2024, Tom and Kevin transferred ownership to longtime friend and bar manager Scottie McKay, who unexpectedly passed away last November, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of those connected to the pub. Together, the regulars and staff continue to heal and honor his memory.
Walk into the pub and find a picture of Scottie’s smiling face with a shot of Tullamore D.E.W. poured out in front of it. Should you stop in, toss one back with a cheer to Scottie, a pub that became a family and the indomitable human spirit that drives O’Callaghan’s forward, even when it’s toughest. Sláinte! —TIM LUDWIG
McColley’s
89 S. Union St., Spencerport | mccolleys.com
Nestled right on the main strip in the village of Spencerport, McColley’s checks many of
the “quintessential Irish pub experience” boxes, with a few added bonuses. The cozy atmosphere greets you immediately upon entering the single paned wood door: exposed beams insulated with straw canopy over the L-shaped bar. Aside from the bar counter are sets of snug wood barrel table tops, a configuration ideal to rub elbows with fellow patrons and, inevitably, blur the line between regulars, strangers and friends.
With a full bar and food menu, McColley’s ace up the sleeve is its seemingly magic-hat-like expansive space. Beyond the front dining area, past the Guinness-branded dart room, is a second bar and dining area that opens up to a back patio during warmer months. This allows McColley’s to keep the intimate warmth of a pub up front and a spacious dine-in experience in back — a sort of Irish mullet, if you will. Designated as The Root Cellar, the back area is often used for private events and live music nights, which spans many genres aside from Irish. (However, the Dropkick Murphys, The Dubliners and other essential Irish pub classics are on constant rotation at the bar.)
The food and drink, too, live up to the golden standard of a comforting Irish meal. Highlights on the menu include the corned beef reuben with your choice of side (some form of potato, if you have any respect for the culture) and the classic bangers & mash served atop a bed of colcannon (Irish mashed potatoes) and topped with a Guinness gravy. Speaking of the amber liquid, for the Guinness guild out there, the iconic stout is poured at McColley’s with care and technique — as the Emerald Isle intended.
—ROBERTO FELIPE LAGARES
Johnny’s Irish Pub
1382 Culver Rd., Rochester | johnnyslivemusic.com
Culver Road is home to plenty of bars, but none are as quintessentially Irish as Johnny’s Pub. Established in 1997, Johnny’s is everything a brain would conjure on command when asked to think of an Irish pub: A shamrock hangs on the front door, a sign reading, “This Way for a Guinness” beckons guests inside.
Like most Irish (or Irish-claiming) bars, Guinness reigns supreme when it comes to decor — a Guinness logo adorns a small stage used for live music, and it’s just one of the myriad promotional signs and lights representing the stout. There is not one, not two, but three Guinness taps at the bar, and on ‘Irish Wednesdays,’ guests can order a perfect pour from one of the taps (or an Irish whiskey) for only $4.
Johnny’s was the area’s first smoke-free pub — “all the fun without all the smoke,” according to old posters on the back wall — and carving out a niche is commonplace for the establishment. Rohrbach Brewing Company made a beer for the pub called “Red Couch,” based on the signature red couch; and a litany of local bands like bluegrass quartet String Theory got their start jamming out at Johnny’s. Traditional Irish music sessions, which take place on the last Sunday of each month at 5 p.m., are one of the most family friendly offerings.
A commitment to the comfort of a neighborhood pub is apparent at Johnny’s. Dedication to Irish culture can be found all over, from the certificate of merit from the Ancient Order of Hibernians to the hanging shamrocks guests can purchase to support the Hibernians. During Paddy’s Day weekend, the pub will be filled with friends new and old, gathered to sing a Celtic tune or enjoy some of the 500 pounds of fresh corned beef and cabbage. —ALYSSA KOH
This article appears in Dec 1-31, 2024.
