Benjamin B.
Yelp
Calling all rogues, raconteurs, and late-night drinkers. Put down your cheroots and your pints. Drop them. Immediately. Now walk out the door. Keep walking 'til you hit the big unmarked green doors on Campbell Street with the lone man standing outside them. Don't try and buy drugs off him, he's not that sort of lone man. Instead, give him a knowing nod and flick him your ID if you're a baby-faced assassin. Then walk inside and be enveloped by the glow.
Here's all you need to know - Wild Rover kicks ass. Huge amounts of ass. Jack-and-the-Giant-from-the-up-the-beanstalk amounts of ass. The newest venture by the chaps behind Grandma's, this is a stay-late, get-sauced, knees-up drinking den for the anti-Ivy crowd.
Cheers go up when new people enter. James, one of the co-owners, might rush over and welcome you, show you to a bar stool, settle down for a chat at the brass bar downstairs or the banging number upstairs.
Food is simple and hearty, Cornish pasties with chunky meat'n'veg filling - tasty when doused liberally with Worcestershire - or home-made spicy sausage rolls. There's also freshly shucked oysters which I've yet to try.
The real gold, though, is the drinks menu. It's a beast. Being Irish by name, there's a ton 'o whiskies, but the discerning tippler should first avail themselves of an amber ale (served in a ye olde worlde pewter-style tankards) before attacking the cocktail list with all the energy you can muster.
There are 3 types of Bloody Mary - a light (consomme), medium and a Kilpatrick Mary that shook me around and spat me out like a dog with a chew toy. It was thick, like a gazpacho, with a spicy punch like a roundhouse kick to the face from a beard-sporting Chuck Norris.
It's not on the menu, but the dirty martini Josh the bartender mixed me up was good, damned good, and when I begged for some extra fat olives he obliged, and threw in one of their home-marinated pickles for good measure.
I was here twice in the three days of this place opening. Still not sure how it happened, just kind of naturally gravitated there because it was a damned sweet place to hang out.No pretense, just fun. The website says it best: a foot-tapping, swashbuckling, riotous escape from pomp.
Amen.