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The Emerald Isle presumably has more to offer than exposed beam ceilings, gnarled wood furnishings and well—drawn pints of Guinness, but Failte has at least got these essentials down. Gather 'round the large open hearth (perfect for drying wet mittens or spit—roasting a wild boar) or venture through enormous wrought-iron gates to shoot some pool in the back room. The menu is limited, but hell, it's Irish pub grub—who needs four courses? An upstairs lounge is for private parties, though the real fun of a place like this is doing rounds with strangers. — Andrew Yamato

Failte, pronounced "FALL-cha," means welcome in Irish.