The Auld Triangle

Just what Dublin needed - another pub with "Auld" in the name. The Auld Triangle sits there on Dorset Street, practically daring you to mock its predictability. And yet, here I am, writing about why this unassuming spot has somehow managed to worm its way into my cynical heart. Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are.

Let's address the elephant in the room - The Auld Triangle in Dublin isn't trying to reinvent the wheel. It's not serving deconstructed coddle or artisanal potato crisps with hints of locally foraged seaweed. Thank god for that. In a city where every second establishment seems desperate to prove its hipster credentials, there's something refreshingly honest about a place that just wants to pour you a proper pint and let you be.

Speaking of pints - and I can't believe I'm saying this - they're actually doing something right here. The Guinness comes in at €4.80, which in today's Dublin feels like stumbling upon buried treasure. I've paid nearly twice that in some of those glossy Temple Bar tourist traps, and let me tell you, the stuff here tastes better. Whether that's down to proper line maintenance or just the satisfaction of not being robbed blind, I'm not entirely sure.

The interior is exactly what you'd expect from a traditional Dublin pub, which means it hasn't seen a decorator since sometime during the Celtic Tiger. But here's the thing - it works. The worn wooden surfaces and slightly wonky bar stools have character, the kind you can't manufacture with an interior designer's mood board and a Pinterest account.

Now, about the atmosphere. I walked in fully prepared to encounter the usual suspects - the afternoon drinkers who've made the pub their second home, the tourists clutching their Dublin guidebooks, the odd local who remembers when all of this was fields. They're all here, but somehow it doesn't feel like a theme park version of an Irish pub. The regulars actually talk to newcomers, the staff remember faces, and the background hum of conversation isn't drowning in awful covers of "Galway Girl."

The live music, when they have it, isn't the usual tired repertoire of rebel songs designed to make American visitors weep into their overpriced whiskey. Instead, you might catch some decent traditional sessions that feel authentic rather than performative. I've seen tourists wandering in looking confused, probably expecting something more "Irish-themed," only to end up staying for hours, chatting with locals and learning what a real Dublin pub feels like.

They've got the basics sorted - clean restrooms (a miracle in itself), decent coffee for the morning crowd (though don't expect any oat milk alternatives), and that increasingly rare commodity in Dublin: bar staff who actually seem to enjoy their jobs. The outdoor seating area isn't going to win any design awards, but it serves its purpose when the rare Dublin sun makes an appearance.

For those keeping score, yes, they take cards (welcome to the 21st century), and yes, you can watch the match without having to crane your neck around a forest of selfie sticks. The crowd during big games is passionate but not aggressive - a balance that's harder to strike than you might think.

Let's be clear - The Auld Triangle isn't perfect. Service can occasionally move at a pace that would make a snail seem hasty, and some of the regulars might look like they've been carved from the very walls themselves. But in a city where authentic local pubs are increasingly being replaced by sleek, soulless bars with names like "Copper & Oak" or "The Tipsy Artisan," The Auld Triangle stands as a reminder of what Dublin drinking culture actually means.

So here's my reluctant recommendation: if you're in Dublin and want to experience a genuine local pub without emptying your wallet or drowning in tourist clichés, The Auld Triangle deserves your attention. Just don't all rush there at once - some of us cynical locals have grown rather fond of the place, not that we'd ever admit it publicly. And for heaven's sake, don't tell them I sent you. I've got a reputation to maintain.