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Not unlike the faux Irish pubs that have popped up in every town from Dubuque to Dubrovnik, this West Village bar is decked out with the usual Emerald Isle accoutrements: the walls are crammed with ancient-looking foodstuff signs and framed black-and-white photos of stern-faced Irish people and there’s plenty of dark wood everywhere—supposedly shipped over from the old country. But Fiddlesticks has managed to out-Irish most of its counterparts by constructing a Disney-fied Gaelic village in the spacious three-room bar, complete with country-house facades, brick arches, and windows looking out onto the “countryside.” Couples canoodle in wooden nooks next to grandfather clocks and antique lamps, gaggles of guys cheer on the local sports team at the bar in the center of the room over a pint (Harp, Kronenbourg, Boddingtons, and, of course, Guinness are just a few of the dozen on tap), and larger groups settle into the adjacent and similarly rustic dining room for above-average pub grub, such as curry fries and calamari. In warmer weather, street-side tables fill up fast and stay occupied all night. — David Farley

Sat.–Sun., 11:30 a.m.–4 p.m.; meal plus two drinks, $10

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