Clearly the relevance to listing the top Irish pubs now is St. Patty?s Day, but the great thing about an Irish Pub is that there?s no wrong time to visit one. Maybe it?s the friendly atmosphere, the casualty of drinking or just the Irish ideal that a mug of Guinness is always acceptable, but we here in NYC sure do like them. If you?re not one to do the parades or the St. Patrick?s Day Pub Crawl sort of thing, then head on over to one of these classic Irish staples for a mug of green beer and a guaranteed good time, whether it?s mid-afternoon on St. Patty?s day or any old Saturday night. Sláinte!

McSorley?s Old Ale House
15 E 7th Street
New York, NY 10003
Established in 1854, McSorley?s has bragging rights that no other bar in Manhattan can boast: it is the longest running saloon in New York City. Besides being the oldest, it is considered by many to be one of the best and that?s the best of all the city?s saloons, not just the Irish ones. The pub?s website boasts that everyone from Abe Lincoln to John Lennon has passed through the doors of this NYC staple ? a pretty unique trait if we do say so. However, perhaps the most unique aspect of this 150-year-old pub is it?s legendary ale, which is served either ?light? or ?dark? to any thirsty visitor. This isn?t the sort of place to order a martini or a mojito, so if you?re not craving a frosty pint of ale, you might want to go elsewhere. The beer is so well-known that it is bottled and sold in stores both around New York and out of state, but it tastes best in this rustic old saloon surrounded by some old friends or some soon-to-be new ones.

Doc Watson?s
1490 2nd Avenue
New York, NY 10021
Coming to this Upper East Side hangout is not at all like your average trip to the doc?s. This doc serves authentic Irish beers as well as tasty, reasonably priced bar food, which is why the pub draws a steady following of neighborhood New Yorkers of all ages. There is nothing pretentious, or super amazing about this place; it?s just your average run-of-the-mill Irish pub, which is why it?s held its ground (and it?s following) in the midst of pricy hotel bars popping up around town. Doc?s recently renovated their basement pool-table room into a lounge, which may seem a bit out of place for an Irish pub, but after a car bomb or two, it?s an ideal addition to the space. If you?re looking for an average, neighborhood Irish bar, that?s been around for a while (although not as long as McSorley?s) this place is definitely worth a try.

Stout
133 W 33rd Street
New York, NY 10001
The best part about Stout is the vast amount of space, complete with three floors, 36 wide-screen TVs and s 60-foot bar spanning the length of the main floor. The bar is great for all sorts of drinking gatherings, particularly for viewing sporting events or pre-drinking for a Knicks game (as Madison Square Garden is just a couple blocks away). Most Irish pubs will be packed on St. Paddy?s day, this one included, but at least the large space (including the private upstairs rooms which can be rented for large parties) caters to a big group of rowdy day-drinkers. The bar boasts a whopping 200 beers on tap and our favorite Irish and non-Irish noshes, including pizzas and burgers or shepherd?s pie and bangers and mash.

Molly?s
287 3rd Avenue
New York, NY 10010
It?s been called ?New York?s Finest Irish Pub,? ?The Most Authentic Irish Bar in the City? and ?The Best Pub Worth Waiting in Line For,? so if that?s not enough to earn this place a spot on our list of top Irish pubs in NYC, then perhaps some other features are. The place has served up delicious and foamy pints of Guinness since its opening in 1960, but is also known for its hamburgers and Shepherd?s pie. The cozy feel of this neighborhood Irish pub is emphasized by the log-burning fireplace and the sawdust sprinkled on the floor. For a place to grab a drink with friends, spend a rowdy Saturday evening, or even house your St. Patrick?s day-drinking antics, Molly?s is a NYC staple that cannot be left off this list.

The Quays Pub
45-02 30th Avenue
Astoria, NY 11103
The developing neighborhood of Astoria is known to harbor a few of the city?s best kept secrets: a magnificent beer garden, some delicious Greek diners and a huge Irish community, which means some of the most authentic Irish pubs in New York. The best of the bunch is known as The Quays, with a friendly staff of Irish bartenders and extremely cheap drinks (every third one is free). Whether there?s a live band performing, a Guitar Hero contest, or just some wannabe DJ manning the jukebox, the vibe is always cozy and friendly ? just the right compromise between an upscale bar and a dive.

?A killer whale killed a trainer Wednesday afternoon, February 24th at SeaWorld's Shamu Stadium in Orlando, Florida, a public information officer for the Orange County Sheriff's Office said. A witness told CNN affiliate WKMG-TV that the whale approached the glass side of the 35-foot-deep tank at Shamu Stadium, jumped up and grabbed the trainer by the waist, shaking her violently. A SeaWorld employee who asked not to be identified confirmed the description of the attack...? -CNN

I have been fascinated by the killer whale story. It turns out that this is the third trainer to be killed by this whale at Sea World. I think the problem lies with calling them all Shamu. Publicly, all the whales are known as Shamu; there are probably like 10 Shamus at a time. Wouldn?t it be super fucking annoying if everyone knew you as Shamu, but your real name was like Eddie or Frank?  If you where a KILLER whale, wouldn?t you eventually freak out? Or kill a trainer? I think she probably called him Shamu and he was thinking, ?If this chick calls me Shamu one more time, I am going to fucking kill her!? So she called him Shamu again, and the rest is history. Whales, like all mammals, need their own identity, and so it goes... 

I moved back downtown a couple of months ago and really love downtown New York.  The energy and feeling of downtown Manhattan is unmistakable. The people, the experiences, the variety, the ethnicities, the music, the style, the substance, it is the truth. You can?t bullshit downtown and if you try to, it will smack you in the face, chew you up, and throw you out.  At no time is this ?je ne se quoi? more apparent than during the spring. Finally this past Sunday, G-d heard our cries of desperation and allowed us to see the sun, the future. It?s comical because New Yorkers hibernate so much in Winter, that fifty degrees and sunny happens, and we think it is the Caribbean.  After a long and glum winter, a day like Sunday provides hope of what?s to come for 2010, life AU (after uptown).

With that said, the day did not necessarily start as hopeful as it would become. Saturday night I attended my friend Yak?s wedding followed by late night visits to SL and 1Oak. Both were extremely busy and crowded, a good sign of what should be a strong season.  After the clubs at around 4 a.m., I stopped into a 24-hour Duane Reade to pick up some household supplies and frozen White Castle. I don?t know why I like to shop for toothpaste, baby wipes, and mouthwash at this hour, but it?s as good a time as any and these types of activities are more fun drunk, as are most. You would think that after the shopping trip I would have been clearheaded enough to get undressed, but that was not the case. I woke up fully clothed in my suit with a half eaten white castle in one hand and my blackberry in the other. Gentleman incarnate.

So I rolled out of bed and began my ritual rehydration. Vitamin drink, Starbucks Iced Green Tea, Espresso shot? BAM. As I began to break open The Post and check into the horoscopes and Page Six, I received a text message from my cousin Rob, aka the Cooz. Cooz informed me that it was beautiful out and that I should join him for a leisurely stroll, a cigar, who knows. So I jumped in the shower, got dressed, and headed to meet him in the Meatpacking District. As I left the apartment, Spring was in the air, the city seemed alive, and I had an inkling that I was in for a good day, the beginning of good things to come?    

Highline Park

The city was bustling with action as I stepped out of the cab in front of the Standard Hotel. The Cooz was with some friends and we strolled through the Meatpacking district. Someone suggested we check out the Highline Park, but I was too caught up with a hangover and the shakes to realize where we were headed.  All those feelings vanished as I got my first view of the Highline Park. This is the first spring for the Highline Park and it was made for days like Sunday. The Highline is one of the first things that our great city has completed in some time that is quintessentially New York. The park is a 1.5 mile stretch of greenery and modern design located on a former railroad track in the Meatpacking District & Chelsea. It currently goes to 20th Street, but is supposed to eventually go to 30th and beyond. There are so many highlights including the incredible works of architecture flanking the park, a stadium-style seating section providing a view of the oncoming traffic below, a pass-through under the Standard Hotel, and a sun-lounge-styled seating area filled with all different types of people. The Highline in it?s essence is like a fashionable Times Square, a crossroads of the world, the downtown world. 

The Highline is a monumental achievement that was supported aggressively by social leaders such as Diane Von Furstenberg, Barry Diller, Phil Falcone, and Mayor Bloomberg along with thousands of supporters and a $50 million grant from the city. I plan to have many incredible days there and predict that New Yorkers and the movies will make this park legendary. I am looking forward to seeing who throws the first party up there, since it would be such a great place for a festival of some type. Maybe it will be me.  Whatever your motives or your schedule, grab some food at Chelsea Market, enjoy the sun, and go sit on the Highline; it is something every New Yorker should experience this season.

Frank

After the Highline, the group dissipated and Rob and I headed east. We picked up a Starbucks and walked in pursuit of an early dinner toward the LES. We eventually arrived at Frank on 2nd Ave, where we began with a bottle of Montepulciano outside as the sun went down on the first day of the rest of the year. Conversations flowed from work, to girls, to family, but inevitably ended up back on the food we were about to eat. We headed inside and sat down at the bar to grab some dinner. 

Frank, as a restaurant, captures the essence of the Lower East Side. Every neighborhood seems to have their version of the family-style Italian spot and Frank is like the cool downtown version. It exemplifies the community?s spirit and serves a great product without taking itself too seriously. Frank was opened in June of 1998 by Frank Prisinzano, who owns, operates, and acts as executive chef for Frank and his two other restaurants, Supper and Lil? Frankie?s (both CH favorites). I find it very interesting how this restaurant?s personality and energy has expanded beyond its core clientele, while still maintaining a very real family vibe. What I mean is that many people come to Frank and call it their ?spot,? but they are all from such diverse backgrounds, ethnicities, and economic classes, that the only thing connecting them is Frank and the neighborhood. It is very unusual that so many people feel this way about one place. This is a testament to how the business is run and that its owner continues to give back to his community with projects like ?East Village Radio,? a non-profit internet radio station featuring local artists and DJs.

Despite all of the culture involved, the real point is the food, which is consistently high quality, flavorful, and uncomplicated Italian classics. It is not the best Italian you can get, but it combines really good, simple ingredients, prepared well, as Italian should be. We ordered a Sunday night Italian feast that started with the Sicilian Salad. This salad consMore

10. Matt Lipman (Promoter) ? This image promoter has an immunity to pepper spray and a penchant for sucking straight from the bottle. While actually a human being during daylight, he has nothing to ?Hyde? come nightfall. Sleazier than porn, yet less mainstream, he is the Larry Flynt of nightlife. The difference: VS the people, Mr. Flynt won the case. 

 
9. Sally Shan (Promoter) ? Sally is the only ?nightlife ninja? in the business who could turn a happy ending sad by way of a Svedka hangover. As the only female Asian promoter in Manhattan, Sally has mastered the martial art of self-promotion, long-time. She exudes confidence not seen since the ?Tao of Steve? while under a Tsunami of wrath from hateful critics. Like Buddha, she never fights back.

8. Number 8 has been removed due to technical difficulties.  

7. Adam Glovsky (Promoter) ? While harmless and congenial, Adam?s reputation is about as strong as his handshake. It takes FCC involvement to get off his mass SMS list and a week at ?Promises? in Malibu to get off of anything else...

6. Jonathan Schwartz (Promotion Director) ? When Apple designed the red ignore button on the iPhone, he had this relentless cold-caller in mind. When Jon rings, the best thing to do is tell him ?I am happy with my current provider.? Jon Schwartz would try and scalp tickets to Synagogue on a Friday night. I haven?t seen such a pathetic and persistent sale since prom. The difference: I got laid.

5. David Jaffee (Promoter) ? David should never have been a promoter; he showcases the social skills of Forest Gump with an Ivy League degree. He?s too fucking nice for anyone to take him seriously and arrogant without cause. He says on his Facebook, ?From age 20-26, I was more successful than anyone else my age on Wall Street.? My take: 72.5% of statistics are made up on the spot.

4. Matthew Assante (Promoter) ? If nice guys finish last, Matthew must have disappointed a lot of women. It?s been reported that this Bronx-Zoolander compensates his escorts girls so that he can fill his tables with talent. An aging stripper can always parlay her career into prostitution once she?s outstayed the daytime buffet. What does a ?matured? promoter do once his reign has stopped making it rain? Matthew has as much time remaining as a Blockbuster video store. The best thing he could do right now is ?be kind and rewind.? It?s a good thing his women and tables are rentals.

3. Me (Self Promoter/ JewJetter) ? According to GuestofaGuest: ?JRL would show up to the opening of an envelope.? When he?s not attacking Ashley Olsen or feuding with Star Jones, Justin is holding your Facebook mini-feed hostage with his ?Jewnoxious? and disgusting antics. This self-proclaimed ?JewJetter? would sneak a tripod through TSA if it?d fit in an overhead compartment. Just because his last name is Lee doesn?t mean he has to take more pics than a photographer at Korean wedding. If this fly-by-night character does have a soul it?s lost somewhere on a baggage carousel.

2. Aalex Julian (Rope Rat) ? When you tell a girl that she needs to lose 10 lbs. to get into Tenjune, it?s easy to build a reputation as a prick. Aalex is responsible for more eating disorders than Anna Wintour ? no wonder every door he works reeks of Roslyn regurgitation. He?s a doorman with the ego of a proprietor. Owners aren't freezing out on the street, Aalex; they're inside groping the waitresses.

1. Rich Thomas (Rope Rat) ? Every asshole on this list has at least some redeeming qualities, but Rich Thomas is the sole anomaly to this rule. It is more affordable than ever to hate Rich. Since every interface is at your own expense, it?s become an April 15th write-off. An interaction with Rich Thomas is as easy to digest as a laxative latte. Within minutes he has both his co-workers and his customers running to the stalls ? no one can stomach him. Make a valiant attempt at ?hello? and be sure to drop my name when you?re back from the loo.

Click here to follow JRL on Facebook and Twitter. For more JEWced be sure to check back every Monday at clubplanet.com/jrl.

The comments stated in this column are Justin Ross Lee's personal opinions and do not represent the opinion of Clubplanet.com or any one of its parent companies.

Tonight, instead of being just a nightclub, Pacha will stand for something ? both literally and figuratively.

P.A.C.H.A (People Against Cruelty and Harm to Animals) will be the club?s first annual animal benefit and it is going on tonight. The party starts at 10 p.m. and will feature four levels of partying and music provided by over 50 DJs, including Cevin Fisher, Mario Calegari and Plasmic Honey, among others.

We love parties (duh) but we love them even more when we know our nightclub allowance is being well spent. The flyer reads that ?100% of the proceeds will go to 6 different charities,? and if that?s the case, then we?ll definitely be there.

We are sad to report that JRL's ?Schmucks & Shiksas Prom? scheduled for this Friday night at Hudson Terrace has been postponed until further notice. Perhaps New York City?s self-proclaimed ?Biggest Schmuck,? Justin Ross Lee, stirred up a little too much controversy, or perhaps the party plans were just too last minute. In any case, keep your eyes peeled for the event sometime in the future and for now, check out his weekly column, JEWced, to see what JRL is all about.

In the immortal words of Sushi Samba co-founder, Matty Johnson, we were ?killing it? at the South Beach Food and Wine Festival this past weekend. Cocktail Hour threw its first event at the Mondrian?s Sunset Lounge, hosted by celebrity chef Todd English and DJ?d by the ?Paul Oakenfold of the food world," Zach Chodorow. The party was an incredible success, as was the festival. It was my first time attending this foodie?s wet dream, and I could not have been more impressed. There were events going on day and night, each filled with the most delicious gastronomic treats one could imagine, only to be bettered by an unbelievable variety of wines and liquors. Some of the major events included Burger Bash (with 27 burgers made by big chefs and burger joints), Bubble Q (a champagne event), a massive tribute dinner for Daniel Boulud at the Loews, and Best of the Best, an event featuring specialties from 40 chefs, 60 wineries, and 16 champagne houses. Even better than the food was the incredible array of star chefs and food personalities who came together for the weekend. We personally ran into Daniel Boulud, Rachel Ray, Bobby Flay, Michael Chiarello, Emeril Lagasse, Guy Fieri, Anthony Bourdain, Morimoto, and Scott Conant as well as multiple contestants from Top Chef and too many others to possibly list.

Although you might not expect it, chefs are some of the more extreme partiers out there, and this weekend is the prime party weekend in the culinary world. Just like in other ?scenes? chef?s have groupies too. Mind you, chef groupies are not necessarily as svelte as a say football or rock ?n roll groupies; these groupies are seduced with cabernets Maker?s Mark, foie gras, Sottocenere, and molten chocolate cake. But who?s judging? A little ?cushion for the pushin? is always fun. 

Last Thursday night, Cocktail Hour attended the Patron Party at the W Hotel, which featured an unlimited supply and variety of Patron Tequilas and cocktails. When the Patron party started to wind down, we, along with the entire party, headed to Wall. As I was walking into the club, I noticed that Bobby Flay and his crew where standing at the door, looking quite perturbed. (I know Bobby and his partner, Lawrence, from my days of working with the Borgata). Once I saw them, my inner monologue told me to assist. With all the respect I could muster, I spoke with the doorman, Laurent, a generally nice Frenchie, ?This is Bobby Flay. It is Food & Wine Festival. He is one of the biggest star chefs in the country.? Laurent was on his period that night, and replied in his European drawl, ?Who is BOOBY Flaiz? I don?tz cares who he is, he groupz is too bigz!? Feeling strong, and a little inebriated, I fought back. ?Bobby Flay you French fuck, not BOOBY Flaiz.? I don?t think Laurent enjoyed that response, and by the time we stopped yelling at each other, a fed-up ?BOOBY Flaiz? had already moved on to greener pastures. We should have reported Laurent and Wall for reverse discrimination; had it been Jacques Pepin, Alain Ducasse, Laurent Tourondel or another French chef, the velvet ropes would have parted like the Red Sea. So continues the decades-old debate of everything French vs. American ? food, wine, style, Jerry Lewis, Woody Allen, and now chefs. The French may have won this battle, but the war wages on. Top Chef?s next season should include a competition of the French vs. the Americans. Fuck the Eiffel Tower.

Although I am sure he was treated like gold everywhere else, BOOBY was not the only chef who ran into an issue. I have been told by many people about the culinary world?s most exclusive party at the ?Two Twelve Access House? ? a no-press, VIP after-hours spot, where only the best chefs and biggest VIPs can get in. I picked up on Eater?s story below and thought that you would like a view into the business?

?Focus, please, as we back-of-envelope the operation. The going rate for a house sponsorship, which gets one's product in front of these chefs and other assorted taste makers, ranges from product-only?such as the deal that Tom Collichio likely has for 'wichcraft, which is passing sandwiches?and $40K, the sum a source tells Eater was offered to one potential sponsor (who politely declined).  If there are twelve sponsors and even three of them are paying half this amount, Two12's micromini-honcho Scott Feldman is raking in $60,000 before costs this weekend. Now, the house, a real behemoth at 1350 Collins Avenue, goes for $2,700 per night, which ain't cheap. And if dude is getting it for 5 nights, let's says he's spending $15,000, including fees. Let's say, too, that he has another $5K in expenses, which he doesn't. At the low end, he's walking away with $40,000 for a weekend of boozing with his friends; at the high end, he's clearing $150,000. Or, we should say, $150,000 before he doles out appearance fees to all the name chefs, like Tim Love and Guy Fieri, without whom he's got bupkis. And he does pay them, no??

I did not make it over, but I am told that the ?Two Twelve Access House? is quite the scene. Apparently, many chefs of great regard are unable to gain access to this culinary version of Avenue. Personally, I can?t knock the hustle, as Feldman is the agent who makes superstar chefs. As our old friend Gekko says, ?What?s worth doing is worth doing for money.? Feldman should be applauded for working hard enough to create his business and getting corporate America to pay for his friends? and clients? debaucherous sanctuary of gastronomy.

The Secret of the Satay Sauce

In honor of this week?s Food and Wine Festival, I decided to kick off our feature column, titled ?Gentlemen in the Kitchen,? where our resident chef, Spencer Gabriel, will work to decipher famous restaurant dishes. GK will start out by unveiling the secret behind Mr. Chow?s Chicken Satay Sauce. The Chicken Satay is the signature item of Chow?s restaurant empire and its copycat competitor, Phillipe Chow. The dish combines tender sautéed chicken with an unusual red coloring and a sweet and rich peanut sauce. The sauce has been the subject of debate for years, in terms of ingredients, calories, and where all that deliciousness descends from. The restaurants generally limit your access to the sauce, but the rule with food is, when in doubt, look for fat, sugar, and salt. Well, my hunch was right, so just make sure you visit the gym after eating those sumptuous satays. Mr. Chow?s clientele of fashionistas, celebrities, socialites and hip hop stars have been consuming more than their recommended daily allowance of butter, heavy cream, salt, and sugar for decades. Like the great Planet Café and Tasti D-Lite yogurt contMore