McGettigan's D9

Just what Dublin needed - another McGettigan's. This time they've graced the northside with McGettigan's D9, tucked away in the Bonnington Hotel like a guilty pleasure waiting to be discovered. I approached with the enthusiasm of a tax audit, fully prepared to pen another scathing review of a cookie-cutter Irish pub chain. But damn them for making me eat my words along with their surprisingly decent burgers.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, it's a McGettigan's, which typically ranks somewhere between "grand" and "sure, it'll do" on the Dublin pub spectrum. But this D9 incarnation has somehow managed to carve out its own identity, despite my determined efforts to dismiss it as just another corporate watering hole.

The first crack in my cynical armor appeared when I noticed the staff actually seemed to give a damn. In Dublin's current hospitality climate, where genuine service often feels as rare as affordable housing, this was an unexpected twist. They didn't just robotically take orders - they bantered, they recommended, they remembered faces. It was almost annoying how difficult they made it to maintain my professional disdain.

The interior strikes that elusive balance between modern sports bar and traditional pub that so many places butcher spectacularly. Multiple screens for sports viewing are integrated thoughtfully rather than plastered across every available surface like some Vegas sports book gone rogue. The stone-topped counters and comfortable seating arrangements suggest someone actually thought about the design instead of just throwing dart boards and Guinness mirrors at the walls.

Speaking of Guinness, they pour a proper pint here. I know, I'm as shocked as you are. The draft selection extends beyond the usual suspects, though don't expect craft beer nirvana. It's a solid middle-ground offering that won't excite beer snobs but will satisfy most punters. The cocktail list is surprisingly competent, though ordering anything fancier than a G&T in a McGettigan's still feels somewhat transgressive.

The food menu is where things get interesting, and by interesting, I mean they've somehow managed to elevate pub grub without disappearing up their own artisanal aspirations. The burgers are genuinely good - not "good for pub food" but actually, legitimately good. The sweet potato fries achieve that mythical crispy-outside-fluffy-inside status that lesser establishments promise but rarely deliver. The burrata salad (yes, I ordered a salad in a pub, judge away) was fresh and well-balanced, though it's hardly reinventing the wheel.

Price-wise, it sits in that comfortable middle ground where you won't feel robbed but might still check your bank balance before ordering another round. The portions are generous enough that you won't need to stop for a chicken fillet roll on the way home - a metric by which I judge all Dublin dining establishments.

For sports fans, it's a legitimate contender for match day viewing. The atmosphere during games manages to be lively without descending into the chaos that makes some Dublin sports bars feel like a reenactment of the Battle of Clontarf. The multiple screens mean you won't strain your neck trying to catch the action, and the sound levels are generally well-managed.

The connection to the Bonnington Hotel could have been a death sentence, condemning it to the purgatory of soulless hotel bars. Instead, it's managed to develop its own identity while benefiting from the hotel's amenities - like actual parking, a rare luxury in this part of Dublin.

They close earlier than some might like - around 9pm most nights - which feels almost responsible in a city where "one more" regularly turns into "sunrise." But perhaps that's part of its charm. McGettigan's D9 knows what it is: a solid neighborhood pub that serves good food, proper drinks, and doesn't try to be all things to all people.

Look, I came here ready to write a withering critique of another chain pub. Instead, I'm grudgingly recommending McGettigan's D9 as a reliable spot for a meal, a match, or a meet-up in Dublin's northside. Book a table, especially on match days - and yes, it pains me deeply to admit that you probably should book a table at a McGettigan's. Sometimes the universe just enjoys making critics eat humble pie for dessert.