Do we really need another Irish pub?

“Jack, I’ve got another idea,” I say down the phone. “How soon can you get to Liverpool?” 

My editor slurs, a cocktail of dread and minor alcohol toxicity impeding his response. “Laurence, I can’t do another seafood restaurant,” he says. “Not after last time. I haven’t even looked at a boiled egg since.”

“This is nothing like that,” I snap. “They’ve gone and opened another bloody Irish bar.”

“I’m on my way”.

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Like Jack, you’re probably wondering why I’m so animated. 

Well, to misappropriate a phrase, a Merseysider with a grievance is seldom mistaken for a ray of sunshine. Add alcohol to the mix and you could have a veritable Ice Age on your hands, especially when it comes to the repurposing of favoured or nostalgic establishments around the city. 

So it is with this frosty reception that many “concept pubs” around Liverpool are greeted — at least, in comment sections and social media posts. To many, the antlered deformities that spring freely from the imagination of 1936 PubCo owner Rob Gutmann are the nadir of Liverpool’s drinking culture: we want to conduct our liver damage in dignified silence, not surrounded by antwacky wood panelling and bathed in tasteful, low-key acoustic playlists. To others, however, his eccentric, usually reasonably priced creations are a welcome addition to the boozer scene for their diverse beer selection alone, and are at least utilising spaces that would otherwise be deconsecrated for “luxury” flats or student accommodation. The sight of St Peter’s Tavern on a sunny Friday, the former Catholic church’s cloister garths overspilling with sunglassed patrons sipping pilsner, could almost be a vision of Heaven.