When you walk into Maggie O'Neills you are greeted with a fabulously decorate Pub that immediately tries to portray the appearance of an authentic Irish pub. The room is laid out so that on one side is the bar and on the other are dining tables. High bar tables occupy the space between the bar and the tables.

The bar is made from beautiful dark wood. It looks like an old apothecary shop. The woodwork is incredible and the trip just to see this bar is worth it--it's art. The eating side has numerous tables that are close enough to give you that pub feel, but separated enough to provide some privacy.

In the back of the room is the Poet's Corner. The Poet's Corner is a very intimate section, walled off from the rest of the pub. Scribbled on the walls are quotes from Jonathan Swift, James Joyce, William Butler Yeats, and Oscar Wilde--catch up on your Irish literature and see how many of them you can identify.

. . . Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's morefull of weeping than you

can understand. -- Yeats

The upstairs room is the size of a large Philly Pub. There is a large bar in the back center of the room that allows for circular traffic around the bar. The room is so large that even with the tables along the walls, there is ample room to walk around. The front of the upstairs room has a large stage, tables, and small dancing area (the good Irish places always have a place for dancing) for the Irish music that is played.

So that is the run down of the place. Now for what makes Phillytown your very special web site--the ancillary bull that goes along with the review.

We started our night at Maggie's in the main room downstairs. From the selection of Guinness, Harp, Caffreys, and some other common taps, I chose the Caffreys. A good Northern Irish Beer--or so I though. Basically Caffrey's is similar to its other UK cousins of Boddingtons, Tetley's English Ale, and Green King Abbot Ale (for these beers, hit John Patrick's). I've had Caffreys many times before but I always thought something was missing and as I was drinking it, an epiphany came to me--it had a watered down flavor. Before getting to Maggie's we had dinner at John Harvards which features many full flavored ales. The contrast was so great that it was able to penetrate my thick Irish skull. Pauvre, Pauvre, Irlande du Nord, not only do they not have their freedom, they don't even have a good beer to ease their British oppression.

When we finished our pints we headed upstairs which was a mistake on my side--I should have gotten filled up below, but mistakes make life interesting and in this case yielded the night's story.

Most cultural bars cater to a mixed age group, anything from 21 years up to 70 - Maggie's is no different. The upstairs was pretty crowded and all barstools were filled. I found an access point behind a group of grandmothers. I left a little space between them and me because basically it's not polite to press up against people, especially your elders. So as I was waiting there to get the barman's attention, some other "old biddy" elbows herself right in front of me! I never saw anything so rude this side of the Atlantic. In Ireland I would let that go because the Irish don't believe in queues, but in my own country this was horrible. My mother taught me manners, what the hell did this biddy teach her kids?

Gammy got her drinks and then when it came time to pay, she pulls out a stack of singles that you could choke a donkey on, and starts peeling off the bills one at a time-- just like those horrible old ladies with their pennies in the supermarket checkout. The only thing that gave me comfort was hoping that the drink would be too much and she'd put her Depends to work (I think I'll be burning in hell for that statement.).

Eventually I grab the barman's attention and order the Guinness. He starts pouring and then leaves them sit--standard for the Genesis of beers. And sit. And sit. And sit--wait a second I'm over here! By the time I get his attention again 15 minutes have gone by--the bugger forgot me! Major mistake, especially to Phillytown where the truth comes out. Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing is worse than a barman who forgets a customer. It's inexcusable . . . well maybe excusable if the Swedish bikini team came in; but then I would have forgotten about it too.

Standing around drinking your beer is OK, but we had our eyes on the seats that the grandmothers had in front of us. It was past their bedtime and it was only a matter of time. They leave and we get a nice spot at the bar--they won't forget my beers now!

Now that I am comfortable I can check out the people. I love Irish women (and equally desirable are women from the UK and Australia) and there was many a woman to scope out.

Wine comes in at the mouth

 And love comes in at the eye;

That's all we shall know for truth

Before we grow old and die.

I lift the glass to my mouth,

I look at you, and I sigh.

-- Yeats

Unfortunately mostly all the women were sporting rings on their left hands (well not including the gummy brigade). I don't think I've ever seen so many married and/or betrothed women in one place. That was definitely a little odd. While I was put off by being surrounded by women who have already promised their love, many an old geezer was just happy to see a pretty, wrinkle-free face.

Maggie O'Neills is pretty easy to find. From 476 take Route 1 North. Go about a mile to two miles and make a left at Dermond Road (there is a traffic light there) and right around the round-about; and that's Pontiac Road.

Work is the curse of the drinking class. -- Wilde

- As reviewed by The Nutty Irishman

His other reviews include: Barnaby's, Shampoo, Rio, The Great American Pub, The Boat House & Valley Forge Brewing Company.

Click Here to Check Out Maggie O'Neill's on the Web!

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