Zero Topped

It was a summer day in Kilkenny when I had my first Guinness Zero.
We ducked into John Cleeres Bar — the kind of pub that’s real. It was afternoon but whispers from the music the night before lingered. I was driving that day, but I still wanted the pint. Still wanted the ritual.

They had it on tap.

Poured like any other. Settled slow. Same glass, same weight in the hand.
No buzz, but all the feel. Add Tayto crisps, Irish stew and some brown bread and a perfect afternoon meal was had.

Since then, I’ll sometimes go zero topped — a 16 oz can of Guinness Zero into a 20 oz tulip glass, then “topped” with a bit of full G from the tap.
That last touch? It’s not necessary. But it feels right.

It’s mostly a Sunday thing.
An early morning Liverpool match.
An afternoon trad seisiún.
Or just a lazier kind of day.
When you want the pint, but not the after.
When you want to show up, stay sharp, and still raise a glass.

Sunday at Boland's, Kevin said it best, sitting around a table of mostly empty pints:

“It’s never about the number of pints. It’s about the time spent with those you know and those you choose to spend time with.”

Guinness Zero makes room for that.
And honestly? That’s the point.

In Ireland, stricter driving laws mean most folks know their limit is one — maybe.
And studies have been reporting for years that drinking overall in Ireland has been trending down — especially with the health-conscious younger generation.

But the pub hasn’t lost its place.
And there is just as much power in a pint of Zero.

The pints are just different.
Not less. Just… different sometimes.

Still poured.
Still shared.
Still matter.

It’s not about what’s missing.
It’s about what’s still there.

— Mike