Teach Tessie

Just what the world needs - another quaint Irish pub in the middle of nowhere. Teach Tessie in Glenties had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. You know the type: weathered facade, promises of "the best Guinness in County Donegal," and locals who've been propping up the same bar stools since before I was born. But damn it all if this place didn't make me eat my words along with some unexpectedly delightful breakfast.

Let's address the elephant in the room - Teach Tessie isn't trying to be the next big thing in mixology or gastropub cuisine. It's doing something far more dangerous: being unapologetically authentic. The building has probably stood in Glenties since time immemorial, wearing its age like a badge of honor rather than something to be plastered over with modern pretensions.

I arrived with my cynicism fully intact, prepared to endure another "traditional Irish pub experience" that usually amounts to mediocre pints and forced craic. The first crack in my armor appeared when the Guinness arrived - perfectly poured, with the kind of creamy head that makes beer snobs weep into their craft IPAs. The second came from the inexplicably genuine warmth of the welcome. Not the rehearsed "hundred thousand welcomes" tourist trap variety, but the sort that makes you wonder if you've somehow wandered into someone's living room by mistake.

The locals, who I fully expected to give me the cold shoulder (as is my God-given right as a visiting critic), instead drew me into conversations that meandered from local history to global politics with the kind of wit that can't be manufactured for TripAdvisor reviews. Dogs lounged by the fireplace like they owned the place, which, let's be honest, they probably do.

But it was the morning after, nursing what should have been a hangover (curse that perfectly poured Guinness), that Teach Tessie really showed its hand. The breakfast - oh, the breakfast. I've had "Full Irish" experiences that left me full of regret and questioning my life choices. This one, served with the kind of casual excellence that suggests they're not even trying to impress, was a masterclass in comfort food. Fresh local ingredients, eggs cooked to actual specifications rather than the chef's mood, and brown bread that made me seriously consider smuggling a loaf home in my carry-on.

The outdoor seating area, which I initially dismissed as an obligatory Covid-era addition, turns out to be a rather clever spot for watching the world go by - even if in Glenties, the world moves at a decidedly unhurried pace. Live music nights (because of course there are live music nights) manage to avoid the usual tourist trap clichés, featuring local musicians who play like they mean it, not like they're auditioning for a Celtic Thunder tribute band.

The amenities are basic but thoughtful - clean restrooms (a miracle in some rural pubs), good coffee (another miracle), and parking that doesn't require advanced geometry to navigate. They serve both beer and wine, though ordering anything other than Guinness feels like ordering a salad at a steakhouse - technically possible but missing the point entirely.

For families considering a visit (and why wouldn't you be, in this inexplicably child-friendly establishment), there's enough space for the little ones to move around without causing an international incident. The staff somehow manages to make both the young families and the old-timers feel equally at home, a diplomatic feat worthy of UN recognition.

Look, I didn't want to like Teach Tessie. I've made a career out of finding fault in places far more ambitious than this modest pub in Glenties. But sometimes you have to admit defeat in the face of overwhelming authenticity. Whether you're passing through Donegal or specifically making the journey to Glenties, you'd be a fool not to stop in. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain. And for God's sake, let the Guinness settle before you drink it. They'll know if you don't.