There's just something about an Irish pub. A perfectly poured pint of Guiness can dissolve all of your troubles into a frothy foam. A curt but charming bartender can suddenly become your most familiar and valued confidant. Indeed, any Irish pub can make the world seem bearable—until a drunken brawl breaks out amongst frat boys sporting shamrock mardi gras beads and the inability to hold their Car Bombs.

By cutting through all of the pomp and pageantry that devalues an Irish bar, Harrigan's has foregone the inauthentic route and endeared itself to many a loyal whiskey-swigger. When you enter this charming little joint, you'll usually encounter some inebriated stooge attempting to pocket the dollar bill that has been shellacked onto the floor. Once you get around that obstacle, you'll find a bar well-stocked with all the Bass, Harp and Guinness you can handle. For those who prefer a sweeter libation, there is plenty of Strongbow, Magners and Boddingtons to satiate even the most extreme cider craving. Ask the bartender for a menu, and you'll be able to order one of the best burgers in the city—from the neighboring Select Cut Steak House—for under $8.

With a surface lined in Irish pennies and plenty of antique mirrors, the gorgeous, historic bar offers a little taste of old-world drinking. Vintage Guinness posters and kitschy beer mirrors hang on exposed-brick walls; red medallion tiles line the ceiling with dripping chandeliers; and the front of the room features a prime people-watching perch in the form of floor-to-ceiling windows that open onto Halsted.

Sunday nights demonstrate the zenith of pub-life, when the Karaoke machine goes into full swing, a stray disco ball is arbitrarily activated and you get to belt out your favorite diddies with a belly full of burger and beer. Just don't forget to pick up the dollar you dropped on the way out.

Centerstage Reviewer: K. Tighe