The 108 is the latest of the Galway Bay Brewing’s menagerie of pint dispensaries, and one which represents craft beer fever extending its heavily-hopped, caramel-noted tendrils further into the leafy suburbs. With the increased frequency of craft beard wearing irritants wittering on about whiskey barrel ageing, it’s easy to forget that Galway Bay are supposedly the good guys.
Depending on the extent to which one exalts individual eccentricity as a hallmark of a good watering hole, the statement that a pint in the 108 is for all intents the very same as a pint in any of their town bars needn’t be understood as a criticism. However, with the homogeny apparent in certain corners of the Dublin pub scene, there’s no small irony to the fact the many who have decided they cherish the perceived individuality and good taste that comes with favouring smaller brewers’ beers now primarily imbibe them from a series of pubs that are all identical. We’ve seemingly hit a point of saturation where the presence of Connect-4 probably isn’t really worth advertising. In this brave new world, Jenga on-site is to be taken as read.
With all that said, if it’s a healthy selection of quaffables that you’re after, then, unsurprisingly, you’re in good hands. My companions and I indulged in some of Galway Bay’s own Oatmeal Pale Ale, Goodbye Blue Monday and a delightfully fruity collaboration between the invariably stellar Thornbridge Brewery and craft beerhemoths Sierra Nevada, all of which hit the mark.
The 108 is undeniably lacking when it comes to having any sort of discernable identity of its own, but it never really claims to have one. The appeal is their variety of pint options available without having to cross the canal, and they they deliver in that regard, though one can’t help but notice the majority of those surrounding us are sticking to the pints of Guinness they’ve undoubtedly been skulling in these same environs long since before the craft focused re-jig. As a result, there is a certain guilt present in the whole experience as served with each small batch pale ale is a kind of tacit responsibility for subverting a cherished (if financially struggling) local. The regulars nurse spiteful scoops, the newcomers avoid eye contact, and all of us wish they’d turn up the volume on the football.
The 108
108 Rathgar Road
Dublin 6
t: 01-4906044
@108Rathgar
Words: Danny Wilson / Photos: Evan Buggle
