Ordering Guinness in London can be risky. One Irish publican has had enough

To drink Guinness in London is not always to drink Guinness. Not in its purest, truest form. The process, explains the Dublin-born, London-based publican Oisín Rogers, is entirely different in the UK to that in Ireland, where everything from the mixture of gas to the quality of pipes are poles apart.

“The way Guinness is plumbed in, hooked up, poured, stored, and pressurised isn’t the same in the UK,” says Rogers. “Guinness is very protective of its technical specifications. So the experience in Ireland can never really be the same in the UK.”

Rogers is talking ahead of the launch of The Devonshire, a big money new pub in London’s Soho, more than a year in the making. Across three floors in a former Jamie’s Italian restaurant, a traditional pub sits below a restaurant proper, every bit a wood-panelled, carpeted space for pints, conversation, and the plumpest of Scotch eggs.

“We want to have the best Guinness in the UK. We know the drink we get here is the same, but the taste is not. We wanted to get as close to the Irish spec in London as possible, so we went to 15 pubs, and, where possible, observed and learned everything from the size of the head to the temperature of the pour.

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“So we’ve spent a year perfecting everything. We’ve been meticulous and careful. But I’m not sharing specifics. I can’t reveal our secrets.”

Rogers, who has worked in the pub trade all his life, has been building The Devonshire together with his business partner, Charlie Carroll, the founder of the popular steak group Flat Iron. Given what is available to publicans the 115 miles across the Irish Sea is disparate, they have done all they can to replicate the experience, going so far as to import parts from Argentina to building a separate storage area for Guinness in the cellar, installing a dishwasher for Guinness glassware – naturally, shipped over from Dublin – to headhunting the most proficient staff.

And there lies one crucial element: the people. For all the cost and resources, a pint of Guinness cannot be purposefully poured by anyone. It is a skill, perhaps even an art form. And so Ross Culligan and Sam Donohoe were headhunted from Kehoes, one of Dublin’s bars; an institution.

Rogers says: “What we realised was that we needed people. Those who grew up in an environment where hospitality is important – an Irish pub experience – and what it means to pour a proper Guinness. It’s having a system and a process in place, it’s technical ability, but it’s also about having people who foster conviviality. We want people to wander in, sit down, have a chat, and feel comfortable, safe and well looked after.

“Ross and Sam are, in my opinion, the best around. They’re warm but professional. So we brought them here.”

Culligan and Donohoe are career bartenders. They are rewarded well for their endeavour and craft and in the UK good money can be something of a novelty in the sector. Culligan grew up in pubs and learned from his uncle, who owned a bar. Donohoe spent four years in hospitality school – TU Dublin – and says the decision to relocate was notable but sensible.

“London hospitality is very rich in essence, but its pub culture has been dwindling,” he says.

“It’s not the same as what we have at home. Working at Kehoes, you come to see just how important pubs are to the Irish people. And that can be true in the UK.”

Culligan adds: “Kehoes is a beast of a pub. It’s famed for its Guinness. You can always tell the casual student bartenders to the career professionals. You’re pushed out quickly if you’re not proven. It’s about knowledge and experience. When we heard about this project from Oisín, we knew we wanted to be involved. London has such scale and opportunity.”

London, the monolith that it is, has long thrived on immigration, particularly on Irish hospitalitarians. Gibney’s, below the Irish chef Richard Corrigan’s restaurant Daffodil Mulligan, is one fairly recent addition. There the Guinness is credible too. There is even an annual awards ceremony in celebration of Irish talent in the capital and it is often held there.

Since Brexit, the UK is even more reliant than on Irish expertise. Working between the two jurisdictions is easy thanks to the Common Travel Area agreement, allowing for free movement, something not available to those in Italy, Poland, France. British pubs and restaurants have struggled to find staff and in the past few years there has been an exodus of Europeans laden with additional and tiresome layers of bureaucracy.

Recent figures from the Office for National Statistics in Britain showed hospitality vacancies had risen by 72 per cent since Brexit, while the number of EU workers in the industry had fallen by 26 per cent. Before 2019, there were 85,000 vacancies in the industry. Today that figure is closer to 200,000.

There are shite pints all over the place. Operating all this is like running a Formula 1 car

Following a Caterer.com report that revealed 196,000 EU workers had left the UK since the EU referendum, director Kathy Dyball says the sector is enduring a “sustained and severe labour crisis”, with employers facing “barriers” when it comes to hiring from overseas.

Ireland is a long-standing resource, and one Rogers has made good use of. In his and Carroll’s quest to forge and populate a statement boozer in Soho – London’s famous home to hedonism – he has gone to great lengths to create something noteworthy. And Guinness, now the UK’s best-selling pint, is the lens through which to view his efforts. At considerable cost, resource and space, he and his team hope it pays off.

“There are shite pints all over the place,” says Rogers. “Operating all this is like running a Formula 1 car. But I think we’ve done it. I don’t think anyone can come close. It’s a bespoke system and we’ve got an incredibly talented team.” Included in the team in the upstairs diningrooms is co-founder of the pub, Ashley Palmer-Watts, formerly of The Fat Duck and Dinner by Heston Blumenthal, who has helped to build a commendable menu.

There was a time in London where you’d almost cringe and brace yourself when ordering a pint of Guinness in a random pub, but these days you’re mostly guaranteed something passable

Ian Ryan, from Cork and also now in London, runs the Shit London Guinness Instagram account and is credited with helping to stem the flow of poor quality pints.

“I definitely feel that the consistency of the pint in the city has improved over the years,” he says. “As it has become more popular, pubs that were never bothered about their Guinness taps before because there was a negligible amount of people ordering it have suddenly had to care as the demand increases.

“There was a time in London where you’d almost cringe and brace yourself when ordering a pint of Guinness in a random pub, but these days you’re mostly guaranteed something passable. There are exceptions to the rule too, of course.”

Could The Devonshire be a turning point for London pubs, long diminishing in a bitter and embattled economy? Only time, and pints, will tell.