Here’s an alehouse that feels like a home. Aside from murals depicting boisterously bucolic scenes penned by its namesake, Irish writer Jonathan Swift, Swift’s pub appeal is refined to the basics. The front room is as nooked and crannied as you could desire, with a winding bar yielding several “best seats in the house” as well as a wide selection of impressively esoteric beers and no televisions to speak of to distract your drinking companions. An expansive yet cozy back room — aesthetically, a cross between a church (there’s an actual pulpit in back, containing high-tech DJ equipment) and a mead hall out of Beowulf — helps maintain a civilized crowd density. The food is excellent and the beer list is long and varied, even for this craft-crazy city. But those in the know come here for a perfectly poured Guinness.