Those looking to perfect the intonations on their fake Irish accents (by far the most bad-ass of all accents) should spend a couple of hours with the regulars at the Thatch Pub, where the chances are good that you'll be asked "Are y'alright, lads?" within seconds of popping in. As Jefferson Park's modest Irish neighborhood bar, the Thatch combines the camaraderie and atmosphere of your standard dive bar with the cleanliness of your grandmother's kitchen (although it's doubtful your grandmother had Guinness, Harp and Smithwick's on tap).

With the official shields of Dublin, Galway, Cork and other Irish cities hanging proudly above the bar and a "Gaelic Football" poster across from the dartboards, the pub understandably attracts Irish immigrants of all age groups, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll be watching cricket all night long. Sometimes it's the Cubs, sometimes the Bears, and on Thursday nights it's usually "Grey's Anatomy" (the bartender is a big fan). On the weekends a DJ or one-man band sets up on the bar's tiny stage, which barely contains enough room for a person, much less a drum machine, but still manages to pump the Irish jams.

There's no kitchen, but a dry stout or an Irish red ale fresh from the tap is kind of a meal unto itself, and all the beers are reasonably priced ($2.75-$4.25). The pub's small surroundings only hold a smattering of tables and it's therefore impossible not to get friendly with someone over a pint or—if you're that hungry—a bag of Fritos (presumably the official corn chip of Ireland). Oh, and no, the Thatch is not thatched, but the lack of water reeds lining the roof aside, this is easily as authentic Ireland as Jefferson Park will get.

Centerstage Reviewer: Andy Seifert