Tigh Ned

Just what Cornamona needed - another pub claiming to be the genuine article. Tigh Ned sits there on the main drag, wearing its weathered facade like a badge of honor, as if being old somehow automatically makes it authentic. I'll admit, I approached with the kind of skepticism reserved for tourists who think they've discovered "real Ireland" because they ordered a Guinness and heard someone say "céad míle fáilte."

But damn it if Tigh Ned in Cornamona didn't make me eat my words along with some surprisingly decent pub grub. The place has that frustrating quality of actually living up to its own hype, which is particularly annoying for someone who makes a living pointing out the emperor's new clothes.

Let's talk about the seafood, because apparently, the owner doesn't just pull pints - they pull fish from the local waters too. I rolled my eyes when I heard this tidbit, expecting another tall tale to add to Ireland's collection. But then the seafood chowder arrived, steaming with chunks of fish so fresh they practically introduced themselves by name. It's the kind of dish that makes you temporarily forget about the decidedly moderate prices you're paying.

The interior is exactly what you'd expect, which is precisely why it works. Dark wood, decades of memorabilia, and enough local history on the walls to fill a small museum. It's like walking into your grandfather's study, if your grandfather was a publicans with an impressive whiskey collection and a dart board that's seen more action than a Dublin taxi rank on a Saturday night.

Outside, there's a patio that somehow manages to be both windswept and welcoming - a neat trick in this part of Ireland. On a good day (yes, they occasionally happen), you can watch boats bobbing on the water while nursing a perfectly poured pint. It's annoyingly idyllic, especially when you're trying to maintain professional cynicism.

The staff operate with that peculiar mix of efficiency and casual banter that defines great Irish pubs. They'll serve you promptly, but not before finishing whatever story they're telling the locals at the bar. And somehow, this doesn't feel like poor service - it feels like you're being invited into a conversation that's been going on for decades.

The food menu isn't trying to reinvent the wheel, and thank heaven for that. Too many pubs these days think they need to serve deconstructed shepherd's pie with a foam of something unpronounceable. Tigh Ned knows its lane: good, honest pub food that's several notches above what you'd expect. The seafood, as mentioned, is the star, but even the humble sandwich comes with enough care and quality to make you pause mid-bite.

They've got live music some nights, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on your tolerance for impromptu sessions. I've seen both ends of the spectrum here - from spine-tingling traditional sets to what I can only describe as enthusiastic attempts at modern classics. But even the latter somehow fits the place's character.

For families, they've managed that tricky balance of being child-friendly without feeling like a creche. There's a kids' menu that doesn't insult young palates with the usual frozen nugget offerings, and enough space that parents can relax without feeling like they're inflicting their offspring on other patrons.

The drinks selection is solid, with a proper range of whiskeys that would make a collector nod appreciatively. The Guinness - because let's be honest, that's what you're really wondering about - is poured with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious ceremonies. And yes, it's good. Irritatingly good.

Look, I wanted to find more fault with Tigh Ned in Cornamona. It's my job to be picky, to point out the emperor's missing clothes. But sometimes you have to admit defeat, and this is one of those times. Whether you're a local looking for your regular spot or a visitor seeking that elusive "authentic Irish pub experience," you'll find it here. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain. Make a point to visit during the afternoon if you want a quieter experience, or evening if you're after the full Irish pub atmosphere. Either way, you'll probably find me in the corner, reluctantly enjoying myself while pretending to take critical notes.