SPREZZATURA : Italian ,noun

sprez·​za·​tu·​ra sprāt-tsä-ˈtü-rä 

: studied nonchalance : graceful conduct or performance without apparent effort

Last month, the long established piece of free-sheet The London Evening Standard published a report for London Fashion Week about where the Fashionrati go to pub. And what pricks my attention most in this case is the high volume of Irish Public houses in their uptown top ranking- The Dog and Bell, The Devonshire , (is it Irish? The Devonshire is Irish the same way people like Terry Wogan and Des O’ Connor are Irish. If you get me), and even local fav Mannions of Tottenham. Seeing catwalk models draping themselves across the banquettes of these boozers , next to the aul’ boys lined up at bars where cash remains king is an incongruous sight. Pubcore- the fetishisation of the Irish Pub had truly arrived to London. But to fully test this theory of the Irish pub being en vogue, I needed to pay a visit to one of the four global bastions of fashion and high taste ;right up there with NYC, Paris, and London. That’s right, I needed to go to Bray. Then someone suggested Milan would make more sense so I went there instead. 

Part 1: Tucan Play that Game ;

Ryanair cannily flies to Milan-Bergamo, which as the name alludes to but doesn’t actually say is just Bergamo, some 40 mins from Milan. But don’t sleep on Bergamo City , which is actually 2 cities in 1 ;the lower town and the wondrous mountain topped Citta’ Alta, the old Venetian citadel looking down on all smugly from its lofty perch. The old town has everything you’d want in your Italian dream scenario; clock towers, piazzas, basilicas and a dedicated polenta stand, serving up the creamy delicacy after which the region’s locals are named. People of the north of Italy were derisively called “Polentone” by the South, due to their love of the wallpaper glue-esque cornmeal dish, but they have reclaimed the name and serve it with aplomb , acting like a mighty flavor-sponge where ever it’s added . Now, recently , tourists in Dublin have caused a stir for fondling the breasts of the famed Molly Malone statue, but no such rule applies if you wish to stroke the 3 testicles on the coat of arms of famed local lord Bartolomeo Colleoni . The Trifecta of testes are located outside his own personal chapel , which he built with his own fortune in defiance of the Church which you have to admit took some balls .

Up here among the alcoves is The Tucans, a proud proponent of the Irish-Inspired -but -not -owned Pub , one that can be viewed with skepticism by both fools and bigots. It does vex me so when people proclaim with glee they’d never visit an Irish Pub abroad, such is their willingness to ingratiate themselves into the fabric of the community over the course of their long weekend . The Tucan’s , in reality is a place that is frequented entirely by locals, whereas that spot in the main square where you order your spritz for £12 is actually the rampant tourist spot. In the Tucan’s, we meet Massimo, – a truck driver/ artist (or Camionista/Artista as he says) , not a combo you usually find. “ This place” he says in his hesitant English, after seemingly plucking the words out of the sky , (and attempting to say it initially in French to little success), ” is my home. These people” -he gestures at the barstaff -“my family” . Massimo doesn’t really drink Guinness though, he’s a fan of the Belgian Beers , exclaiming:

"Quando bevi il primo sorso di birra belga è come baciare una ragazza per la prima volta"

The Tucan’s has a prominent Irish flag by the bar , denoting when local team Atalanta won their first European trophy in Dublin, or Dublino in Italian, which sounds cooler , thus twinning the 2 towns for all eternity. Bella has asked me to state for the record that she thinks the Tucan’s is one of the best pubs she’s ever been to and its hard to disagree. It’s got that absolutely mad choice of drinks you only get abroad- Kilkenny, Ghost Ship and something called Gordon’s Finest Gold. You don’t see much Kilkenny these days. I believe its Smithwick’s but they changed the name cause Swithwick’s is a bugger to pronounce in any Romance language. Bedecked in toy Toucans everywhere and playing a soundtrack of the finest early noughties indie, I remembered that 7 years previously I had promised my pal Daniele that I would one day drink here with him . And lo, it has come to pass. After spending an enjoyable evening submerged in their fine Guinness, I recommend a day out submerged in a more salutary beverage in the nearby San Pelligrino Spa, the Polentone version of the Guinness storehouse, where the cleansing pools come in a choice of still or sparkling.

 

Part II: Milan

Onward to the citadel of haute couture, Milano! Home of design, aperitivo, risotto, calcio, Negroni Sbagliatos, Alfa Romeo, Armani, Prada , Gucci, Versace , Moschino and Claire’s Accessories. Milan became a noted centre for fashion as they would get all them nice fabrics from Asia via Venice, then combined it with the resourceful industrialisation of the region. Going back further, during the renaissance, under the patronage of great dukes like Sforza, art and design flourished, and noted Polymath Leonardo Da Vicni worked here, a literal renaissance man who was good at the aul’ drawings. It’s from the name Milan where we get the English word for traditional fancy hat maker ‘milliner’, which I think is a top fact. It is also good to see Irish pret-a -porter high -end fashion also represented though ( see below)

Now, Publicanenemy has been to Italy before, to the unofficial 33rd County Sicily as well as the legendary 7 Pubs of Rome Pub Crawl . But Milan is a special beast, the economic heart of Italy. I’ve heard people say Milan isn’t the prettiest of Italian cities , nor is the weather great, but bear in mind I grew up in Tralee, so we should be fine . In the heart of Milan lies the Duomo, the 3rd Biggest Church in Europe and an orgy of religious artworks and flying buttresses . Built over centuries, you can even pop up to the roof terrace for a fine view. Inside, you can see perhaps Milan’s first fashionista, San Bartholomew, wearing what everyone wants to be seen in- their own skin, after he was flayed alive by some Armenians. I hate when that happens. ! He’s werking it to be fair. Flay, queen! Famed aesthete and notorious smart-arse Oscar Wilde was here, being suitably smart-arsed about the fabulous Duomo, stating,”the Cathedral is an awful failure. Outside the design is monstrous and inartistic. The over-elaborated details stuck high up where no one can see them; everything is vile in it; it is, however, imposing and gigantic as a failure, through its great size and elaborate execution.”I appreciate his being earnest, but what a bitch.

I like Milan’s style. It’s famed for its tradition of aperitivo, a post work drinks and free snacks that are offered to all in varying levels of deliciousness . Navagli, the series of canals designed by yerman Da Vinci (jaysus he was handy, hah?) is a top spot for an Aperol Spritz , a legacy of the Austrian control of the region. As is the local specialty , the Milanese cutlet, an elephant’s ear of veal all hammered flat and crispy.

Much as the Duomo accumulated hundreds of ornate features over the centuries, so too has our next pub, Pogue Mahone’s, acquiring some of the finest Irish Pub wall tat ever seen in Publicanenemy history and a fusion of sprezzatura effortless elegance / hardcore Irish Pub aesthetics. There are other Irish pubs in the centre – O’Connell’s Irish Pub, for instance , but it loses marks for (a) being closed at 5 in the afternoon and (b)for saying it’s ‘‘in the authentic Anglo-Saxon tradition” on it’s website. Yikes. Google maps suggests an establishment called “Stalingrado” which is an Irish Coffee Tavern, whatever that is. There’s also the U2 themed Pub, Vertigo, on The Edge of town, which sounds and looks shite so in terms of Pubs , I still hadn’t found what I’m looking for – till Pogue Mahone’s.

Pogue Mahone’s is a corner local bar in Porta Romana ,taking it’s name from the seminal Irish band and of the beautiful Gaelic phrase ‘Kiss my arse.’ We arrive on a busy night – the Derby de la Madonnina, where AC Milan of Milan take on Inter Milan of Milan in the ole’ calcio. Pogue Mahone’s is another perfect fusion of Irish/ Italian Pub authenticity . The legendary Shane McGowan himself drank here, looking pale and pallid as per in a pic on the wall . They sponsor the Milan GAA team and have a range of triggering Pro-Cork merch behind the bar . There’s a rowdy front bar, a snug back bar, and full restaurant across the road. The walls depict legends of Irish culture, including Brian O’ Driscoll who I suppose deserves to be there despite not fitting the an iconoclastic rebel remit . Guinness is poured efficiently and reasonably priced, and there’s even Murphy’s, while Bella sticks to the wonderful digestif, amaro .The local clientele hover outside drinking their pints standing in a very Irish style , apart from a moped outside becoming a makeshift table for resting pints on. Like the Tucan’s, the attention to detail here is impressive,and maybe that’s what makes this area the world leader of beautiful design? And this luckily has extended to 2 of the best Irish Pubs money can buy so far on this trip . Bravi Ragazzi!

Part III : The Helvetica Scenario – Lugano Switzerland

A ruthlessly efficient day trip via the impressive Milano Centrale station ( where the trains run on time !) leads us to Irish pub no. 98 and to country 47, and it’s to Lugano, the largest city of the Swiss Italian canton of Ticino . To prepare myself for this momentous occasion, I eat several peaks of toblerone and deposit a few thousand illicitly gained euros no questions asked into a shady bank account . Lugano is the 3rd largest financial centre in Switzerland, serving the large northern Italian cities so it’s fair to say they have a bit of cash.

Lugano Facts! Lugano held the very first EuroVision song contest which was won by Luxembourg’s Mixilou, with her seminal hit “Blip Blop Bloop” . I’ve completely made that up that last part , but what’s curious is that it sounds believable , and what does that say about us? In 2011, the Israeli town of Yehud reconstructed itself to resemble Lugano, although its hard to imagine Israel in 2025 being able to recreate Swiss serenity accurately . “Money laundering, expensive call girls and casinos” is the description of Lugano from my local pal Daniele , which sounds not dissimilar to the average Fine Fail Ard Fheis in the 90’s . Lugano provides a glimpse of what Italy would be like if it was perfect, and for that reason it’s less good than real Italy. It’s Italy if you add £3 onto everything essentially . Lugano is so perfect it has a suburb called , un-ironically, Paradiso, which is very Swiss.

I’m curious to see what the Irish pub is like in such rarefied air, and aptly it’s called Trinity after Dublin’s poshest uni. The pub doesn’t really look like a pub from the outside , more like the entrance to a governmental sub-department, or perhaps a minor Mexican Cartel member’s hacienda, but inside it works. This being 5pm and Lugano, it is pretty empty apart from the most philosophy graduate looking man ever rolling cigarettes. A horseshoe bar is flanked by rows of tables , complete with Guinness signs, bookshelves and the ubiquitous hanging bicycle by the window. The Swiss Guinness, or Swinness , costs 9 Chf Swiss Francs, which is the equivalent of 9£, which is pretty steep but bear in mind , down the road in front of the rent a pedal boat man is a 2 storey Louis Vuitton megastore. The pint was quite tasty, and the kind bar lady threw in a glass of nachos that usually retail for £22.99. I imagine. As its 5 pm on a Thursday, its obvs quite quiet, and I cant afford to stay in Lugano as they charge by the hour so we only have the one before returning for one last pint in Milan.

So we successfully add country no. 48 to the list, and pubs no.96, 97 and 98. Truth be told, I don’t know if Irish pubs are in fashion on the Continent,and don’t particularly care. I’m in this for the long haul, long after the public taste-makers gadflies have flown off to the next thing ,and you dear reader have possibly been vaporized by emotionless AI killdroids during the techno-feudalist uprising of 2047. Which is probably when Irish Pubs will next back in fashion. See you then.