The PR Blog

As St Patricks Day approaches again, I cannot help but think back. There’s a moment, when I'm sitting under the wide Australian sky, that this old Paddy finds his mind drift homeward.

The sun beats down, the land stretches endless and dry, yet here on the coast it is green and wet,  but in my heart, I can still hear the rain pattering against the old stone walls of home. It’s in those moments that I remember the simple things - the warmth of the kitchen, the smell of the soup, and the sight of my Gran, sitting by the fire, sipping her nightly glass of stout. “Good for the blood,” she’d say with a knowing nod, as if the deep, dark drink carried the very essence of Ireland itself. And maybe it does. Because wherever you find a pint of Guinness, you find a bit of home.

So here is my story about Guinness. And it might not be the record book, but it has its own fair share of record breaking stuff. 

If there’s one thing that shouts ‘Ireland’ to the world, it’s a pint of the black stuff. The tale begins back in 1759 when young Arthur Guinness, a clever fella from County Kildare, had the foresight to sign what might just be the greatest business deal in history - a 9,000-year lease on the St. James’s Gate Brewery in Dublin. Even Donald J Trump would be hard pressed to do better. 

Guinness Brewery in Dublin, Ireland, 1910

He bagged the place for a few bob -  £45 a year, an absolute bargain in any leprechaun's book.  That gave him rights to four acres and a water supply, enough to kick off what would become the most famous stout on the planet. Fair play to him, because over 260 years later, Guinness is still flowing strong, enjoyed in every corner of the world. And in my lounge most evenings over 7000 miles away. 

Arthur Guinness was born in 1725 in Celbridge, County Kildare, the son of Richard Guinness, who brewed ale for the local Archbishop. It’s said that Arthur learned the trade from his father, picking up a keen sense for business along the way.

In 1752, Arthur inherited £100 from the Archbishop, a tidy sum at the time. With this and a head full of ambition, he set up his first brewery in Leixlip, a short hop from Dublin. But Arthur wasn’t one to settle. In 1759, he took a bigger gamble, he packed up and moved to Dublin, where he signed that now-legendary 9,000-year lease on St. James’s Gate.

The lease Arthur signed was an extraordinary deal. I would say it was a great fookin deal but Monty might edit this out.

For just £45 a year, he secured the brewery and its vital water rights, which were crucial for brewing. Water, after all, makes the beer, and Dublin’s soft water proved perfect for the deep, rich flavors of stout. The lease allowed him full use of the premises and ensured that no one could hike up the rent for nearly a millennium. Crafty little bugger. 

Of course, as Guinness expanded, the company bought out the freehold of the land in the 19th century, but the legendary lease remains a symbol of Arthur’s leprechaun like way of thinking. 

Now, before Guinness became the king of stouts, the term "stout" just meant a strong beer, not necessarily dark at all. But by the 18th century, "stout porter" came into fashion, a heartier, richer version of London porter, packed with roasted malt for a deep, full-bodied flavor.

As time rolled on, Guinness took stout to a whole new level, refining it into the silky-smooth delight I know and love today. 

A good pint of Guinness isn’t just thrown into a glass - it’s an art. The dark ruby liquid (true, it’s not actually black) is full of flavors that make it like an Irish lullaby, a jig and a romp in the hay with Miss Kathleen before nightfall and coming home to dinner before your Gran knows you have even been outside . 

Not that I ever did that of course. No, Mrs Paddy would be horrified to learn that there were any haybarn shenanigans and of course, there were none.  Ever. Never. And who is this Kathleen person anyway? 

Mrs Paddy just shooed me with her hand and told me to grow up. 

Where was I?  Oh, then there’s the pour. Any proper barman worth his salt knows the drill. Fill the glass at a 45-degree angle, let it settle, then top it off nice and slow. That’s how you get that perfect creamy head, as soft as an Irish cloud.

And let’s not forget the old saying "Guinness is Good for You." Now, while modern science might scoff at that claim, it’s true that Guinness has always been a grand choice for those after a pint with depth, smoothness, and a touch of Irish magic.

There’s a reason folks have long said that a pint of Guinness does you no harm. In fact, there are a few benefits worth raising a glass to:

• Rich in Antioxidants – Like a good drop of red wine, Guinness contains flavonoids that can help reduce oxidative stress in the body.

• A Bit of Iron – Guinness has a small amount of iron, which is why it was once given to patients recovering from surgery or blood donation.

• Good for the Heart – Some studies suggest moderate consumption of stout can improve circulation and reduce the risk of blood clots.

• Lower in Calories Than You Think – A pint of Guinness has fewer calories than many lagers and craft beers, making it a lighter choice than you’d expect.

• Aids Digestion – Thanks to its high barley content, Guinness provides some soluble fiber, which can be good for digestion.

• Good for the Soul – A pint enjoyed in good company can ease stress, lift spirits, and bring people together—an essential part of the Irish way of life. 

 By the way they were not my words. Monty put them in.  But she is right. 

A huge part of Guinness’ appeal is the brand itself.  It's not just a beer, it's a symbol of Ireland, heritage, and good times. Guinness has built an identity that goes beyond just its flavor. It’s the ritual of the pour, the glass, and the anticipation as you watch it settle. When I pour my Guinness, it is like I am paying homage to my roots and my Irishness. And my Gran. My childhood and my sense of self. 

Guinness is steeped in history, from old-school advertising campaigns like the famous “Guinness is Good for You” posters to the legendary toucan mascot. It’s a drink that’s been passed down through generations, a pint your granddad enjoyed just as much as you do today. And in my case, my Gran always enjoyed a guinness " for her health you understand lad. " 

Oh, and by the way, there is a link between the Guinness Book of records and the stout.