The Tallaght strategy

It's a miracle! Though perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that a brewery called Priory, with a comprehensively Catholic theme running across its branding, should be the one that managed to pull a Lazarus act.

We last saw this microbrewery in the south Dublin suburb of Tallaght on these pages in June 2019. "An ambitious set of plans" is what I noted. I don't know how far advanced those got before Covid shut the whole thing down, and with the overall decline in Irish microbrewing, I wasn't expecting to see them back. The announcement in 2023 that the building which houses the brewery -- a café and a lot of empty space when I visited in 2019 -- would be transformed into an indoor food market didn't do much to change my mind. Dublin has serious form on failed indoor food market projects. If it can't be done in the city centre, what chance of doing it in Tallaght? And besides, craft beer is over, and it would be such a 2015 move to put a microbrewery in a food hall.

Nevertheless, the Priory Market project rolled on and, in late June 2025, it opened its doors to the hungry public, the offer including Priory Brewing reborn as a "tank bar" on the site. I went along on the first weekend, genuinely not expecting much. Usually, the brewery and the beer range is the last part of the project to get delivered, if it ever does. I was surprised by what I found.

The food hall was thronged, and all the stalls seemed to be doing brisk business, though without the excessive queues you get at events which don't have their catering logistics in order. Down the back, opposite two outlying food stalls, is the bar. I found perching space across from the window which looks into the production brewery.

Tank means tank, and there are four of them behind the bar, from which beer is poured directly. Original Sin, the flagship IPA, and Venial Sin, its session-strength sibling, have made a return and are two of them. I started with one of the new beers, Helles Fire. This is no still-fermenting murk: the bright tank has left it bright; a perfectly clear golden colour. It's a little light on its feet at 4.3% ABV though I appreciated the cold pour -- 3.3°C according to the readout on the vessel. So it was definitely thirst-quenching, and while it's fairly plain, there is enough of a gentle spongecake sweetness to pass. The finish is as clean as the beer looks, with nary a hint of the off flavours that can bedevil small-batch lagers, and a nicely crisp grain bite on the end. It may be unexciting, but it's very technically proficient. Time and money has been spent on getting it right, and I could taste that.

Also new from the tanks was Atonement, a pale ale. This is in the old American style, a deep amber colour and packed out with crystal malt, contrasting with sharp US hops. A fruit candy aroma leads to a toffee-first flavour, although it's light at 4.5% ABV, and not at all sticky. There's a tannic note as a reminder that English bitter is a close relation, and a touch of crisp roast to help dry it out. The hop tang is a little bit lemonade and a little bit aspirin; unsubtle and clashing with the malt side, I thought. The intention seems to be something like Sierra Nevada pale ale, but there's none of that one's perfumed subtlety. This time, the technical proficiency can't hide the issues with the underlying recipe.

But the tank bar has more than just tanks: there's a sizeable array of keg taps on the bar, all Priory-branded except for Whiplash's Slow Life, which seems to be covering them for a dark beer for now. My in-built cynicism couldn't help wondering if some or all of these were brewed elsewhere, but then why bother with the tanks if you're shipping beer in?

I had a half of Vice Beer, the 5% ABV weissbier. Here the brewery's tendency towards clarity is a little less appropriate, because there's none of the cloudiness that has been this style's hallmark since before anyone in New England thought to make an IPA. That seems to have added a sharpness to it, manifesting initially in the slightly hot butane aroma. And while there's banana in the flavour, it's greenly acidic, which isn't unpleasant, but is quite different from the soft and sweet effect one normally gets. The hops are more pronounced than usual, with a bite of celery and pak choi. It's a valid take on the style, reminding me of the crisper, pointier, sort of weizen from north German breweries, and Flensburger in particular. If that's your particular vice, jump in. I prefer the more cuddly Bavarian take, however.

And we finish on yet another central European style: pilsner. Impeccable was also on the keg lines and arrived slightly hazy. Freshness was very much in evidence here, the aroma giving faint but persistent cut grass, like the patio doors are open and the lawn outside has just been mown. Though only 4.7% ABV it has a satisfyingly chewy texture and that adds extra punch to the noble hops, flourishing outwards into a whole bouquet of garden herbs, with basil and rosemary the ones I noticed most. Despite the density, this is still an excellent warm-day refresher and mid-session palate scrubber, and again remarkably free of flaws for a newly-created brewpub lager. Since they can do pils well, nothing else should be a problem.

I didn't revisit their double IPA, and the red ale will have to wait to next time. On the menu but not yet pouring were a stout and a bock, and there was a tap badge for a sour ale which had also yet to materialise. The ambition is incredible for an Irish brewpub but they really do seem to have the ability to pull it off. I hope the momentum stays with them and that they get the kind of local support which seems to be keeping the Rascals taproom blazing. This taproom is a new and rare jewel in Dublin's beer scene and I dearly want to see it thrive.