Puck Fair: It looks Irish and smells Irish and yes, they know how to pour a proper pint of Guinness, but there’s occasionally a whiff of too-slick marketing going on at Puck Fair. Still, an infectious spirit pervades, especially when the roaring, post-work crowd starts loosening their ties after a day on the trading floor. Their beer-fueled mating rituals are on boisterous display, living up to the legend of the testosterone-driven, mythical “Puck,” for whom the too-big-to-be-a-pub-too-blasé-to-be-a-club thing is named. Comfy corners abound amid the gleaming wood, brick walls, and skylights. Couples and co-workers populate the corner retreats that are reminiscent of “snugs,” separate rooms that were once the only place in a pub that ladies could frequent. Like every Irishman, Puck Fair has sisters: Swift and Ulysses. |
