The 13 Best Cocktail Bars in Ireland

The cocktail menu arrives as a hardback book, illustrated in the style of the Savoy Cocktail Book, with around 70 drinks inside. VCC is a cocktail bar tucked into Crown Alley, dressed in Victorian furnishings that lean somewhere between charming and chintzy, like a very stylish relative's parlour. The drinks are the whole point, and the list is taken seriously enough that you should probably arrive with time to read it properly.

Tucked into the basement of The Clarence Hotel, this sprawling cocktail bar unfolds across four interconnected rooms, each with its own décor and personality. The first, with a burlesque circus vibe, is always open; the rest only come alive later in the week. It's a rabbit warren in the best sense, full of hidden snugs and corners, though the bartender's tables flanking the bar in that first room are where seasoned visitors tend to land.

Dark panelling runs floor to ceiling, the shutters stay half-drawn, and the gold lettering on the built-in cabinets is the kind of detail someone spent real money on. This cocktail bar on Dawson Street occupies a building with a wig-making past, and the room leans into it without tipping into costume. Worn floorboards, vintage bar, no natural light to speak of. The sort of place that makes you order a second drink before you've finished deciding on the first.

A cocktail bar tucked inside a Georgian townhouse that was built for wealthy merchants and nobility, which is a lot of context to absorb before your first drink. No. 23 takes its name from the house number, so the address and the sign are the same thing. The plasterwork is original, the antiques are serious, and the art on the walls belongs to one of Ireland's significant private collections. Dress accordingly.

Tucked off the lobby of the Shelbourne, this cocktail bar claims to have invented the Black Velvet, Guinness tipped into champagne in a tall glass, sometime in the early 1870s. London's Brooks's Club disputes that. The bar doesn't seem bothered. It's quieter and more intimate than the hotel's larger bar up front, the kind of place where you order the house claim, because obviously you do, and settle in.

The bar itself is eight-sided, sitting beneath a domed octagonal window that frames it from above like a skylight built specifically for the occasion. It's a hotel bar inside a quay-side property co-owned by Bono and The Edge, which sounds louder than it is: on most nights the room runs to oak panelling, quiet pints, and someone folding a newspaper. The rock-and-roll provenance is there if you want it, mostly in the telling.

The address arrives by email after you book, and even then it takes some finding. That's the point: The Blind Pig is a proper speakeasy cocktail bar tucked somewhere off Wicklow Street, named for the cops who looked the other way during Prohibition. The team behind it are among Dublin's most serious bartenders, and the whole production, the secrecy, the hidden entrance, lands as atmosphere rather than gimmick.