Best Trivia Night Pubs

Oh look, another London pub claiming to be the neighborhood's crown jewel. The Three Tuns in London has all the predictable trappings - exposed beams, worn wooden floors, and that peculiar smell that's either centuries of history or yesterday's spilled ale. I wanted to hate it. I really did. But damn it if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like a persistent bar fly who eventually becomes your favorite drinking buddy. Against my better judgment, I found myself returning to The Three Tuns multiple times, each visit chipping away at my well-cultivated disdain for "authentic" London pubs. Let's address the elephant in the room - the prices. In a city where some establishments seem to think charging the equivalent of a small mortgage for a pint is perfectly reasonable, The Three Tuns maintains a refreshing grip on reality. The menu won't make your wallet weep, though it's not exactly giving things away. It sits in that sweet spot where you can order another round without having to check your bank balance first. The food, oh the food. I came prepared with my sharpest criticisms, only to find them melting away like the perfectly adequate cheese on their surprisingly good burger. Their kitchen somehow manages to elevate standard pub fare without succumbing to the pretentious "gastropub" trend that's infected half of London's drinking establishments. The fish and chips - and I can't believe I'm saying this - actually taste like fish and chips should taste, not like some chef's "modern interpretation" involving foam and microgreens. The atmosphere deserves special mention, if only because it's managed to achieve what countless other London pubs try and fail to create - genuine character. While other venues feel like they've been decorated by someone who's only seen pubs in movies, The Three Tuns wears its history like a comfortable old jacket. The live music nights don't make you want to stick forks in your ears, which in London's pub scene is practically a miracle. What truly sets this place apart - and I'm gritting my teeth as I write this - is the staff. In a city where customer service often ranges from actively hostile to passively indifferent, the team at The Three Tuns seems almost suspiciously friendly. They remember regulars, make solid recommendations, and actually appear to enjoy their jobs. I'm still investigating whether they're all secretly robots. The outdoor seating area, while not exactly the Gardens of Versailles, provides a decent escape when the interior gets too cozy (London pub-speak for "packed like sardines"). They're dog-friendly too, which means you can bring your four-legged friend along to judge your drink choices. For sports enthusiasts (or as I prefer to call them, "people who like to shout at screens"), The Three Tuns offers plenty of viewing opportunities without turning into one of those soulless sports bars. The multiple screens are well-placed enough that you can either watch the game or pretend it doesn't exist - a diplomatic solution that probably prevents numerous arguments. They've embraced modern conveniences without sacrificing their traditional charm. Yes, you can pay with your phone, and no, the bartender won't look at you like you've just suggested setting fire to the Queen's portrait. They even do takeout, though why anyone would want pub food to go is beyond my comprehension. Look, I didn't want to like The Three Tuns. I came armed with a notebook full of witty criticisms and left with a reluctant appreciation for what they've accomplished. In a London pub scene increasingly divided between characterless chains and overpriced hipster haunts, The Three Tuns has somehow found the sweet spot in between. Fine. I'll say it. The Three Tuns is worth your time. Whether you're a local looking for a reliable regular spot or a visitor seeking an authentic London pub experience without the tourist trap nonsense, you'll find it here. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.

In the heart of Cork city, The Friary stands as a testament to the peculiar magic that can only exist in an Irish pub that dares to be different. Here, at this beloved corner establishment across from North Gate Bridge, eccentricity and tradition dance a curious waltz, creating something entirely its own in Cork's storied pub landscape. The first thing you'll notice upon entering The Friary is the delightfully uncommon decor - movie posters and unexpected tributes to Nicolas Cage create a backdrop that feels like a cinephile's fever dream melded with a traditional Irish pub. Warm lighting catches the edges of vintage frames and homemade artwork, casting a golden glow that somehow makes the unconventional feel perfectly at home. The space flows like a well-worn story, with the ground floor offering intimate corners for quiet conversations and bar seating where regulars exchange knowing glances over perfectly poured pints. Upstairs, another world unfolds, particularly electric on quiz nights when friendly rivalry crackles between the floors like static electricity before a storm. Outside, a handful of tables catch Cork's occasional sunshine, offering front-row seats to the city's daily theater. In The Friary's liquid offerings, you'll find a rebellion against the expected. The taps and fridges showcase a carefully curated selection of craft beers that tell stories of local brewers and international artisans. The Stag Stout flows as dark and smooth as a winter's night, while the Indian Summer beer brings unexpected brightness to even the grayest Cork afternoon. The spirits selection reads like a love letter to Irish distilling, with local whiskeys and gins taking pride of place behind the bar. Mike, the publican with his signature flowing locks and vibrant shirts, orchestrates this unusual symphony with the skill of a conductor who knows every note by heart. His staff move through the space with the easy confidence of people who understand they're not just serving drinks - they're maintaining a sanctuary of sociability, a stage where every visitor plays their part in the nightly performance. Wednesday evenings transform The Friary into a theater of friendly competition, when quiz night draws both regulars and newcomers into its orbit. The prizes - often featuring the pub's patron saint, Nicolas Cage - are sought after not for their monetary value but for the stories they'll generate in the weeks to come. These weekly gatherings have become something of a local legend, where the lines between regulars and first-timers blur into comfortable camaraderie. The atmosphere shifts with the hours like light through stained glass. Afternoons see local workers seeking refuge in a quiet pint, while evenings bring a diverse crowd of students, young professionals, and curious tourists, all drawn to the pub's magnetic blend of quirky charm and genuine warmth. The conversations flow as freely as the craft beer, creating a tapestry of voices that feels quintessentially Cork while remaining entirely unique to The Friary. Live music events and special gatherings punctuate the calendar, each adding new layers to the pub's evolving story. The walls themselves seem to collect memories like treasured photographs, each visit adding another frame to the collection. Even the location of the restrooms downstairs feels like part of the adventure, a quirk that regulars mention with amused affection. In a city known for its traditional pubs, The Friary stands as proof that tradition can wear new clothes while keeping its soul intact. The moderate prices reflect a commitment to remaining accessible while offering something special - craft beer and artisanal spirits that reward the curious without punishing the wallet. As evening settles over Cork city, The Friary glows like a beacon for those seeking something beyond the ordinary. Push open that door, find your place at the bar, and let Mike or one of his crew guide you through their liquid offerings. Whether you're a craft beer enthusiast, a trivia buff, or simply someone in search of Cork's most characterful pub, you'll find your tribe here, where every night writes a new chapter in The Friary's gloriously peculiar story.

Just what London needs - another pub with a monosyllabic name. The Nel joins the ever-growing ranks of establishments apparently too cool for complete words, nestled in a city already bursting with places to drink away your weekday sorrows. I approached with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for dental appointments. But damn it all if The Nel hasn't managed to charm even my professionally jaded sensibilities. First, let's address the elephant in the room - or rather, the surprisingly well-designed space containing said elephant. Unlike the typical London pub that seems to have been decorated by your great-aunt's estate sale, The Nel actually appears to have consulted someone with functioning retinas. The balance between indoor coziness and outdoor space feels less accident and more actual intention, which is refreshing in a city where "beer garden" usually means "three wooden tables crammed into a former loading dock." The outdoor area deserves special mention, if only because it doesn't make you feel like you're dining in a smoking area time capsule from 1995. It's actually... pleasant. There. I said it. Perfect for those three days of summer London generously provides each year. And then there's the food. I went in expecting the usual pub grub - you know, the kind that makes you question every life decision that led you to that moment. Instead, I found myself involuntarily making those embarrassing little pleasure noises over their Sunday roast. The kind of noises that make nearby tables uncomfortable. The kind that forced me to pretend I was having an allergic reaction to save face. Let's talk about that roast for a moment, shall we? Because it's not just good "for a pub" - it's good full stop. The kind of good that makes you momentarily forget about all those mediocre pub roasts that have disappointed you over the years. The kind that makes you want to send a passive-aggressive photo to your aunt who claims nobody can beat her Sunday cooking. The quiz night situation requires addressing, though it pains me to admit they actually do this well too. Sunday evenings see a proper pub quiz that manages to be both challenging and entertaining - a rare combination in a world where most pub quizzes seem designed either for PhD candidates or people who've had severe head trauma. Just note that it's strictly adults-only after 8 PM, which has caused some pearl-clutching among the local parent population. Sorry, Karen, your six-month-old probably wasn't going to be much help with the current affairs round anyway. The staff - and I cannot believe I'm writing this - actually seem to enjoy their jobs. Jo and Miguel (mentioned so frequently in reviews it's like they're running for local office) manage to provide service that's both efficient and genuinely friendly, which in London is about as common as a reasonable rent price. They've got all the expected libations - beer, wine, cocktails - and they actually know how to serve them properly. The pints aren't 30% foam, the wine hasn't been open since the last royal wedding, and the cocktails don't taste like they were mixed by someone whose only training was watching "Cocktail" once on a plane. Dog-friendly, group-friendly, and sports-showing capabilities tick all the requisite boxes for a proper London pub. They've even managed to sort out modern payment methods, so you won't have to perform the traditional British pub dance of "sorry, cash only" followed by a half-mile trek to the nearest ATM. Look, I didn't want to like The Nel. I walked in ready to pen another scathing review about London's declining pub culture. Instead, I'm sitting here, questioning my entire cynical worldview, because this place actually gets it right. It's everything a modern London pub should be, while somehow maintaining the soul of what makes a pub great in the first place. If you find yourself in this corner of London (and let's face it, you will - we all end up everywhere in this city eventually), do yourself a favor and give The Nel a shot. Book ahead for the Sunday roast, bring your four-legged friend if you have one, and prepare to be annoyingly impressed. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.

Just what London needs - another craft beer spot with a punny name. The Cronx Tap in Croydon (yes, that's the joke) had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. But like finding a winning lottery ticket in your jacket pocket, sometimes life's pleasant surprises come wrapped in questionable packaging. Let's address the elephant in the room - it's in Croydon. For the uninitiated, that's the much-maligned southern reaches of London where concrete dreams went to die sometime in the 1960s. And yet, here we are, with The Cronx Tap somehow managing to be a beacon of hope in the high street's retail apocalypse. I arrived determined to hate it. The name alone - a play on "The Bronx" because... Croydon, get it? - seemed reason enough. But then something annoying happened. The staff actually knew their stuff about beer. Not in that pretentious "let me tell you about the exact soil composition where these hops were grown" way, but with genuine enthusiasm and zero snobbery. Infuriating. The beer selection, I grudgingly admit, is impressive. Their house brews under the Cronx label show real craft and creativity, while the rotating guest taps keep things interesting. The dark beer, in particular, is something of a revelation - chocolatey notes that don't punch you in the face with artificial flavoring like some craft breweries seem to favor. They do this clever thing with their tasting flights - a "sharer slide" of three third-pints that lets you sample different brews without committing to a full pint of potential disappointment. It's actually... rather brilliant. Not that I'm happy about having to admit that. The space itself strikes that elusive balance between "pub comfortable" and "Instagram worthy" without falling into the trap of industrial-chic cliché that plagues so many craft beer establishments. The exposed brick walls actually look like they belong there rather than being hastily installed by an overeager interior designer who just discovered Pinterest. What's particularly vexing is how they've managed to create a genuinely welcoming atmosphere. There's none of that craft beer superiority complex you find in some places where ordering anything less than a triple-hopped imperial stout gets you looked at like you've just asked for a wine spritzer in a biker bar. They've even got entertainment sorted - comedy nights that don't make you want to crawl under your table from secondhand embarrassment, and movie nights that somehow make watching films in a pub feel like a good idea. The Wednesday film screenings are particularly popular, though I'm not about to admit how many I've attended. The food offering is minimal - bar snacks and empanadas - but that's honestly refreshing in a world where every pub thinks it needs to serve deconstructed shepherd's pie on artisanal slate. They know what they are: a proper beer establishment that happens to have some decent nibbles to soak up the alcohol. Price-wise, it sits in that sweet spot where you can have a few quality pints without having to remortgage your house. Yes, it's more than your standard pub, but considering the quality and variety on offer, it's fair. I've certainly paid more for worse in central London. Look, I didn't want to like The Cronx Tap. I really didn't. But in a city drowning in cookie-cutter craft beer bars and soulless pub chains, this place has managed to carve out its own identity while actually delivering on quality. If you find yourself in Croydon (though why would you, unless you live there like me?), it's worth seeking out. Just don't tell them I sent you - I've got a reputation as a cynic to maintain.

Stop whatever you're doing and get yourself to The Power House in Killaloe right now - I'm serious! This isn't just another pub in County Clare; this is where legendary nights are born and where "just one quick pint" turns into stories you'll be telling for years. Trust me, The Power House Killaloe has that magical mix of authentic Irish charm and electric atmosphere that makes time disappear faster than a perfectly poured Guinness. Speaking of perfect pints - holy moly, they've mastered the art here! The Guinness is so good it should probably be illegal. And don't get me started on their authentic pizzas (I literally dreamed about them last night). It's like someone took your favorite cozy pub and secretly upgraded it with all the best bits of a proper Italian pizzeria. You know those places that somehow feel like they've been your local forever, even on your first visit? That's The Power House for you. The staff greet you with smiles warmer than a turf fire, and within minutes you'll feel like you've been coming here all your life. Whether you're cosied up inside or living your best life in their outdoor seating area (hello, summer evenings!), the vibe is absolutely unbeatable. BUT WAIT - it gets better! This isn't just your regular pub situation. The Power House Killaloe has turned itself into the social heart of the area with events that'll make you cancel all your other plans. We're talking proper pub quizzes where you can show off that random knowledge you've been hoarding since college. Poker nights that start friendly and end with dramatic showdowns. Bingo sessions that are way more exciting than they have any right to be! Let me paint you a picture: It's a regular Thursday night. You walk into The Power House thinking you'll just grab a quick drink. Next thing you know, you're part of an impromptu quiz team with people who are definitely becoming your new best friends, sharing a perfectly crispy pizza, and wondering why you've never done this before. That's the magic of this place - it turns ordinary evenings into "remember when" moments. The space itself? Absolute perfection. They've nailed that sweet spot between traditional Irish pub charm and modern comfort. And the payment situation is beautifully hassle-free - they take cards, cash, even contactless, so you can focus on the important stuff (like deciding whether to get another round). Here's some insider intel: Get there early for events because word has spread and the locals know what's up. If you're coming with a group (which you absolutely should), The Power House handles crowds like a dream. There's something incredibly satisfying about watching your whole crew find their perfect spots, whether that's gathering around a table for pizza and pints or spreading out to make new friends. Let's talk location - The Power House in Killaloe sits pretty in a spot that makes it the perfect hub for both locals and visitors. Whether you're finishing up a day of exploring Clare or looking for your new favorite local, this is where you want to be. The outdoor seating area is a game-changer when Irish weather decides to behave (and sometimes even when it doesn't - we're hardy folk!). Listen, I could go on about this place all day, but here's the bottom line: The Power House Killaloe isn't just a pub - it's where memories are made. It's where "quick catch-ups" turn into epic nights, where strangers become friends over perfect pints, and where every visit feels like coming home. Don't be the person who has to hear about all the amazing nights second-hand - get yourself down here and be part of the story. Your future self will thank you for it!