Toners is the pub opposite where I work, and I love it. It's Dublin's oldest pub, and we were drinking there downstairs last night, because Stephen at work is moving onto greener pastures on D'olier St. It's small, cramped, smells weird, serves the best Guinness on Baggot St and is a second home to all those at the Trib. The paper's cuttings around the walls are kind of testimony to that. There's no dumb music, the bar men are thin and sweet, there's no fancy smoking area or cocktail list. The sign hanging outside reads 'Toners. A pub.' nuff sed.
And on Friday, they do the best lunchtime curry known to man, woman, or chicken.
listening to: Elliot Smith - 'Cupid's Trick'
Una
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