Home Comforts with Anna Haugh, Jamie McCabe, Axel McHugh and Ian Ryan
From iconic Guinness pours to world renowned hospitality, Eoghan Flynn meets the expats putting Irish food on the map in London Town.
"It's just comfort, isn't it?" reflects Jamie McCabe as we chat about the unwavering appeal of Irish pubs to London-based Irish folk. Jamie – the general manager of the iconic Stoke Newington boozer The Auld Shillelagh and The WB Yeats in Finsbury Park – is one of many Irish food and hospitality lovers who left home to start anew in London.
Among them are Axel McHugh, one half of the Pigs Can Fly supper club; Ian Ryan, the pintman behind the Shit London Guinness and Beautiful Pints social media pages, now a published author; and Anna Haugh, chef-owner of Chelsea restaurant, Myrtle. In our conversations, we recollected our food memories, laughed at poorly poured pints, and, most importantly, shared an immense grá for Ireland and its countless comforts.
Celebrating Ireland abroad
A playful patriotism fuels the immense popularity of Shit London Guinness, which points out London's many badly-served pints of Guinness. According to Ian, in pointing out London’s failings, "we take our wins against the English, in a jokey way rather than anything super serious". On the other hand, Beautiful Pints is "a celebration of places where you can get a good pint, whether it’s London or Dublin".
A playful patriotism fuels the immense popularity of Shit London Guinness, which points out London's many badly-served pints of Guinness.
"I come across a rogue one from Japan or wherever, and I think, 'Jesus, that looks nice!'" he says. Identifying London's perfect pour is an ongoing (often futile) quest, but Ian believes, "If you asked a hundred Guinness drinkers in London where the best pint can be found, I reckon The Auld Shillelagh would be the most common answer".
The Irish local is widely viewed as a Guinness hotspot – a reputation proudly maintained since its opening in 1991. As Jamie says: "It's something that the owners built the pub on".
A traditional boozer might seem to have little in common with supper parties featuring DJs and natural wine. But Axel, a Dalkey native, explains that the London-based Pigs Can Fly food parties he co-organises are also "100% influenced by being Irish, and the idea of community and being a welcoming nation".
Anna, who opened her upscale West London restaurant in 2019, still exudes pride for the ever-evolving Irish food scene back home. "When I left Ireland, there were many unknowns or things that 'didn't exist'," she recalls, "whereas now, when I return, there's fire in the country – there's passion and curiosity".
Family cooking
"You give a piece of yourself when you cook," Anna reflects. "Cooking is all about love – love for yourself and the person you're cooking for".
Growing up in Tallaght, Anna's mother crafted everything from scratch – a practice that "little Anna" protested. "This is the worst!" she remembers exclaiming. "Everyone else buys strawberry jam from the supermarket, and I'm eating this luscious and delicious brown gooseberry jam, but that's beside the point".
Anna soon realised its advantages: by spending more time in the kitchen, her parents "didn't overvalue their time" and consequently "valued themselves more". She held onto this lesson as she navigated the restaurant scenes in Dublin, Paris and London. "My parents shaped my approach to food as a child, and they continue to do so to this day".
In contrast to Ian's "mammy cooking" – "several types of potato with some meat smothered in gravy" – or Jamie's nostalgic familial fare, including hearty stew, spaghetti bolognese, sausages, eggs and chips, mealtimes for Axel were "a way for our family to experiment with different flavours and have fun together".
Axel's love for food ignited during the Leaving Cert as an unexpected form of self-care. The step-by-step processes demonstrated by chefs on Food Network helped him unwind, and he "just became completely hooked, not necessarily on food, but on the feeling of cooking videos and food content".
Although his culinary skills developed slowly (his first dish gave his siblings food poisoning), Axel's enthusiasm had been passed down through generations. His grandparents were avid travellers and often returned to Ireland with new-to-them ingredients that his grandmother shared with other women in the community: "She used to tell me that no one had tried curry until she brought back curry powder," he laughs. "They made a curry, and everyone tried it together".
Irish people, for fuck’s sake, should eat yellow meal at least once a week to remember who saved their lives.
Redefining Irish food
When Anna launched Myrtle, she always had "Mam's cooking" in the back of her mind. By elevating her mother's cuisine within a fine dining setting, she curated a modern European menu with an Irish influence. However, she soon realised that "the 'modern European' part was the least interesting to people".
"My mother didn't know that she'd be the catalyst for a new cuisine," Anna reflects. "She played a role in evolving our culture, and that's quite amazing".
The name Myrtle uplifts Irish produce – the cornerstone of the restaurant's menu. "Myrtle Allen was the first chef to proudly champion Irish produce. Because of her actions, I can build upon her legacy. Naming it Myrtle was an obvious choice – it's a powerful name".
Through her cooking, Anna aims to preserve and represent shared Irish histories and cultures. Her “Taste of Ireland” menu showcases seven courses, each highlighting a county in Ireland. One of the restaurant's dishes – yellow meal cake served with Silver Hill duck and endive – commemorates the generosity of the Choctaw, a Native American people. During the Famine, the Choctaw donated corn to Ireland to help feed its starving population.
"Irish people, for fuck’s sake, should eat yellow meal at least once a week to remember who saved their lives”, Anna argues. "Caramelised duck on polenta might not sound very Irish, but when you understand its origin, you'll think, 'Yes, that's modern Irish cuisine'".
Irish welcomes
"Our goal is to have fun, make people feel welcome, and provide a place every few months where people can come and feel at home away from home", Axel says of Pigs Can Fly. Whether addressing dietary needs or ensuring affordability for guests, the emphasis is on being as accommodating as possible.
Irish people make others feel welcome and like they belong. We understand the feeling of not belonging and don't want others to feel like that.
Anna also celebrates the quintessential 'Irish welcome': "It's magical because it's subconscious. Irish people make others feel welcome and like they belong. We understand the feeling of not belonging and don't want others to feel like that". She notes that visitors to Myrtle are greeted with a warm "hiya!" instead of the grand, often alienating display of hospitality expected at fine dining establishments. "Irish communication doesn’t feel like business, it feels like warmth".
Of his stout-fuelled pub crawls, Ian says: "If some generic bar in Shoreditch had the nicest pints of Guinness in the world, I wouldn't drink in there as much as I'd drink in an old, unpretentious, real pub for real people. It's not trying to sell you the dream of a pub; it's an actual pub because that's where people go to drink".
The Auld Shillelagh "hits that sweet spot in the middle" notes Jamie. "It's not shit and dingy, and it's not flashy and varnished". With its traditional mahogany bar, "dusty ornaments", Irish paraphernalia and "nooks and crannies", "it feels like it's been transported from Ireland", For Jamie, this pleasing slice of home creates "an environment where you can feel comfortable being yourself".
"What's a pub but a communal space?" he asks. "It's your extended sitting room".
The comforting feelings inextricably associated with food and drink propel our appreciation and grá for Ireland.
The taste of home
The comforting feelings inextricably associated with food and drink propel our appreciation and grá for Ireland. "If you're being pedantic," says Ian, a beautiful pint feels like "the perfect taste of home".
According to Jamie, "we're not Italy, so I think it's more about the sentiment than what you're actually eating, you know? If your mother cooks you food, there’s no better feeling".
Meanwhile, when Anna crafts an Irish-inspired dish, she knows how she wants the guests to feel before she creates the meal. "Is it summer? Is it light? Is it rich?" she asks herself.
Axel sums it up: "How I tap into my identity is more attached to emotions and feelings, rather than physical objects or cooking 'Irish' food. It's more about how that makes people feel and translating that into the setting and environment in which I live".
Despite leaving Ireland, we all still hold feelings of Irishness close to our chests. As we navigate the streets of London – or anywhere, in fact – we continue to forge new, yet familiar, home comforts.
‘Home Comforts’ features in Guzzle issue two, pick up a copy here.
About the writer
Originally from Waterford, Eoghan Flynn is a London-based writer and researcher. Armed with a Master's in Fashion Communication from Central Saint Martins, he delves into trend analysis at Stylus, focusing on the ever-evolving worlds of food, beverage, hospitality, and leisure. Alongside his day job, Eoghan is an accomplished freelancer, contributing to publications such as 1 Granary, Numéro Berlin, and Fräulein Magazine. Eoghan's love for "picky bits" gives him solace but he finds his happiest moments nursing a pint of plain in his local.