Why the "How" You Order a Guinness Matters
From a “pint of plain” to a near-ejection in a Tokyo pub, this is a reminder that Guinness exists in time, not just in a glass.
Andy ordered a “pint of plain” over my shoulder.
Not to be clever. Not because the bartender needed it clarified. He did it knowing I’d hear it. Knowing I’d written about that exact phrase in Pints and Power. It was a small act of recognition, a quiet tap on the shoulder that said: I read it. I get it. I know why those words matter to you.
That moment took me back to a story he shared right after.
While traveling in Japan, Andy found an Irish pub. Feeling confident, he ordered what he thought was a respectful Guinness. But instead of asking for a pint of plain like he did the other day, he asked for “a Guinness pour,” the way you might ask for a pour of whiskey. The barkeep (from Ireland by the way) nearly threw him out declaring he had never, ever heard anyone order it that way before. 🤣
And if you’re anything like me, you might now be wondering: how many Irish pubs are there in Japan?
So I checked. According to Google there are no fewer than 227 Irish pubs in Japan today.
I went further and found a list on the Irish Network Japan (INJ) website that lists 108 of them, each meticulously curated.
So if you’re planning a trip to Japan, check out the list. Plot out a pub or two.
Just don’t go ordering a “Guinness pour” while you’re there.
So what's wrong with ordering a "Guinness pour?"
Calling it a “pour” collapses the entire ritual into the wrong category.
Whiskey is poured.
Guinness is settled.
Waited on.
Finished with intention.
It exists in time, not just volume.
To ask for a Guinness like a spirit is to miss the point entirely.
That’s why today’s “pint of plain” landed so differently.
In Ireland, the phrase works because it assumes context. It doesn’t announce Guinness because Guinness is already understood. Abroad, that same phrase can sound affected, or confusing, or unnecessary. And “a Guinness pour” isn’t just incorrect phrasing, it reveals a deeper misunderstanding of what the drink is meant to be.
What struck me is that both moments were really about intent.
That "incident" In Japan, the words failed because they stripped Guinness of its ritual.
Ordering a pint isn’t just a transaction. It’s participation. Sometimes you’re speaking to the bartender. Sometimes you’re speaking to the room. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’re speaking to one person who knows exactly why those words carry weight.
The mistake isn’t getting the phrasing wrong.
It’s assuming the same words mean the same thing everywhere.
And occasionally, the best order isn’t about what ends up in the glass at all. It’s about who’s listening.
And don’t forget, many a sin committed on one’s first Guinness is easily absolved by the second.
Settle in. THIS pint won’t drink itself.
— Mike
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