Review: O'Malley's Irish Pub in St. Louis

Tommy Gage insisted that in four years of pulling dark pints and slinging whiskey to the masses at O’Malley’s Pub, he has never had to break up a single fight. I’m inclined to believe him, but it’s hard to mask some serious disappointment. Not that I’m looking for a brawl, but if I were, this little public house on the corner of Lemp and Cherokee, an overlooked Irish gem, would be an ideal locale.

In a short time, O’Malley’s has become as much a part of the Cherokee neighborhood as the adjoining breweries or the antique shops that dot the streets – not surprising, considering that a corner saloon (under one moniker or another) has stood in the space since the turn of the last century. Gage continues the tradition, operating a destination for his friends and neighbors to knock back a few pints after a long workday. “Customers are what really make our bar,” he said. “Without them, a bar is really only four walls.”

The pub is, in a word, gritty. But gritty in a good way. O’Malley’s is what I like to describe as the anti-Irish pub: It’s not an overpriced social scene and it doesn’t knock you over the skull to convince you it’s “authentic.” This is not the place to take a date; this is a drinking bar. The smell – a not so gentle mix of smoke, aged wood and stale beer – knocks into you as you pull open the door to step off of Cherokee. The décor, the STL version of “Irish,” is exactly what you’d expect – a lot of dim space, a lot of green. It’s the type of place you can tell has hosted its share of rowdy nights. A dozen or so tables and high tops are spread throughout the small space, each with a fine view of the musicians’ corner, where, most nights, live artists will strum a guitar or fiddle into the darker hours before stumbling home. Usually they’ll take requests from the house, but I wouldn’t advise calling out Whiskey in the Jar or other clichés, think more Dropkick Murphys.

Behind the chipped wooden bar and well-used beer fridge, Gage has stacked a happy collection of whiskeys and spirits he doles out at more than reasonable prices (solid happy hour deals take things one further). The draft selection is respectable – Smithwick’s, Harp, Magners Cider, Pabst – and Gage and his crew pull a solid pint of Guinness. Make that your starting off point.

On weekend nights, the place can get slammed with a mix of twentysomethings and older patrons. Everyone is super-casual; in fact, collared shirts are almost anathema in this joint. Duck your head into the pub on a random weeknight and you might find a crew of regulars stubbornly posted in their spots at the bar, gazing up at the Cardinals game on one of the pub’s flat screens; next to them a pair of punk gals sipping on Pabst, cutting into a pack of Camels; and near the back of the bar, a rowdy guy’s girlfriend taking a brief respite from swaying to the music to prop herself up on a stool and expose her lady parts to the bar. (I’m not making this stuff up.) Apparently the local cops enjoy O’Malley’s as well. During my last visit, I saw a pair polishing off a few hefty plates of corned beef and cabbage before jumping back in their cruiser.

A buddy of mine summed up O’Malley’s perfectly: “This is the kind of place you wish you had across the street from your apartment.” And though I won’t be getting into any old-school, whiskey-soaked fistfights there anytime soon, I’m more than happy to pop back in now and again for a good pint.

STL AFTER DARK
Check it: Live Irish bands every night.
Hipster or hoosier: Neighborhood regulars, rugby hooligans, gritty blue-collar types.
Suds or ‘tinis: Frothy pints of the dark stuff with a whiskey chaser.
Where: O'Malley’s Irish Pub, 1900 Cherokee St., St. Louis, 314.762.9308
When: Mon. to Sat. – 10 a.m. to 1:30 a.m.