Boyle's of Slane

Just what Ireland needed - another cozy pub claiming to pour the perfect pint. Boyle's of Slane in Laytown had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. The exterior, with its time-worn facade and traditional signage, looks like it was plucked straight from a tourist's fever dream of the "authentic Irish experience." I was prepared to hate it. Spoiler alert: I failed miserably.

Let's address the elephant in the room - the Guinness. I've heard every publican from Dublin to Donegal insist their pour is superior, but the barman at Boyle's of Slane actually has the audacity to let the pint speak for itself. The perfect dome, the cascade effect that's mesmerizing enough to make you forget you're staring at a glass like some besotted fool, and a taste that makes you question whether you've ever actually had a proper pint before. It's infuriating how good it is.

The interior should be illegal - it's exactly what every American tourist imagines an Irish pub looks like, except it's genuine. Dark wood worn smooth by generations of elbows, corners that have witnessed more stories than a library, and a fireplace that seems to have been burning since the Vikings left. I wanted to find it cliché. Instead, I found myself sinking into a corner seat like I'd been coming here for decades.

Then there's the music. Live sessions that don't feel like they're put on for tourists (though they'll certainly enchant them). Wednesday nights particularly shine, when local musicians gather for sessions that feel more like a spontaneous gathering of friends than a scheduled performance. The sound of fiddles and bodhráns mingles with conversation in a way that makes you forget what century you're in.

The staff? Devastatingly genuine. In an age where hospitality often feels as authentic as a three-euro note, the crew at Boyle's of Slane manages to be welcoming without fawning, attentive without hovering. They remember faces, drinks, and somehow make every visitor feel like a regular - a trick that should feel manufactured but somehow doesn't.

What's particularly irksome is how they've maintained this level of quality without charging the earth for it. In an era where basic pubs are trying to charge boutique prices, Boyle's keeps things remarkably reasonable. It's almost suspicious how they manage it, but I've investigated thoroughly (very thoroughly, over many visits) and found no catch.

The outdoor seating area, while modest, offers a perfect perch for people-watching on warmer days. And by "warmer days" in Ireland, I mean those rare occasions when the rain decides to fall horizontally instead of vertically. They've even managed to make this space feel natural rather than an afterthought cobbled together during Covid.

For sports enthusiasts (I typically avoid watching matches in pubs like I avoid small talk), even I must admit they've struck the right balance. The matches are on when they matter, but they never let the screens dominate the atmosphere. It's a pub that remembers it's a pub first, not a sports bar with notions.

Parking is free on the street - a small mercy that shouldn't feel like a luxury but increasingly does in many Irish towns. They take cards (including contactless), though watching someone tap their phone to pay in a place this traditional feels somewhat sacrilegious.

Here's the truly annoying part - Boyle's of Slane isn't just a good pub, it's a reminder of what pubs should be. It's the kind of place that makes you realize how many establishments have lost their way trying to reinvent the wheel. In a world of gastropubs and craft beer emporiums (both of which have their place), Boyle's stands as a testament to the simple art of doing the basics brilliantly.

So fine, I admit defeat. If you find yourself anywhere near Laytown and you're in search of a genuine Irish pub experience - the kind that tourist brochures promise but rarely deliver - Boyle's of Slane is worth your time. Just don't tell them I sent you. I have a cynical reputation to maintain.