Thirsty Thursday

Paddy Whiskey delivers more than popular brands at a fraction of the price

Wen Xin | Contributing Photographer

Faegan’s Cafe & Pub is a bar near Syracuse University where you can get Irish whiskey like Paddy Irish Whiskey.

It’s about that time of night for a round of the hard stuff. Whiskey shots, anyone?

When it comes to the Irish, many go straight for the friendly, reliable Jameson Irish Whiskey. Maybe it’s because they actually like it, or maybe it’s because it’s the only whiskey they know.

“Four shots of Jameson,” they say, or “give me a Jame-o Ginger.”

Take a college bar, for example, and you’ll see why. It’s on the bar mats, there’s posters of it all over the walls and there’s at least a few bottles in plain sight behind the bar. Jameson built itself a reputation as a premium whiskey for any occasion. That light, vanilla taste is rich, and it’s grown popular even amongst those who shun the brown in favor of clear liquor.

But good ole Jimbo comes at a high price. Ringing up at no less than $30 a bottle, the stuff is not cheap. Why spend your hard-earned shekels on a measly 750 ml, when for less than half the price you could get a handle of potable gasoline, or a rum bucket at the place that God forgot.  

Enter Paddy. At around $20 a bottle, Paddy Whiskey is a steal. A little smoother, maybe a touch less sweet and a whole lot cheaper than Jameson, Paddy will be your greatest ally in all future drinking endeavors.

Known as “Cork Distillery Company Old Irish Whiskey” until 1912, it was renamed in honor of legendary salesman Paddy Flaherty, who travelled Ireland dealing out free samples of his company’s whiskey to just about everyone he came across. As the story goes, pub owners would write the distillery asking for “Paddy’s whiskey,” and the name stuck.

Once owned by the same company as the wildly dominant Jameson, Paddy is distilled in the very same facility, to this day. Think of it as Jameson’s younger, better looking cousin.

I first discovered Paddy about six months ago when my roommates and I were looking to fuel the night’s drunk without breaking the bank.

Expecting gut rot for the price we paid, the first shot was so jarringly fantastic that we decided to try a jigger over ice. It was such a great sipper that we even drank it neat. It even made an appearance in our coffee the next day. I’ve come to the point at which I actively seek out Paddy in bars and liquor stores when I decide to scratch that whiskey itch.

Drink it straight, on the rocks, upside-down, on the roof — however you like it best. I’m a writer, not a cop.

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