Here in Pittsburgh, when the beer runs green and a wide-grinning barkeep plops a large plate piled with boiled beef and cabbage in front of you, chances are it's St. Patrick's Day.

For St. Paddy's Days past, Munch compiled lists of pubs, fine sources for sausages, places the parade could take you. This year, Munch suggests heading over to Market Square, where you can huddle in the cold and clasp your plastic cup of I.C. Light behind a high wire fence.

Just kidding.

Do as the Irish do. Practice regionalism. Go where you normally go, to the bar that fits you like your favorite sneaker, to the place where, in the wee, crusty hours, they scrape you up with a spatula and call you a cab, or send you toddling out the door, with a push in the direction of your front door.

For residents of the Mexican War Streets, Monterey Pub is the place. It opened last year to raves from everyone on the PG staff who lives on the North Side and likes beer. Believe Munch: There are many who fit that description, enough to float a small business enterprise.

The small pub is painted a merry Kelly green, its signage low-key. Inside, it's comfortingly dim and narrow, with wooden booths along the right side and tables in the back. The ceiling is patterned tin, a nice architectural detail.

The beer, on draft, is fresh and crisp, and available in 16- or 20-ounce drafts. There's Guinness, Harp, Bass, Penn Dark, Penn Pilsner, Penn Marzen, Sierra Nevada and -- the drink of choice for marathon trainers -- Coors Light.

The menu is basic bar chow plus. There are steak salads, burgers and quesadillas, as well as salmon, rack of lamb and steak. Prices are pub-appropriate; everything costs less than $14.95.

Munch and FOM tried the Guinness Nachos ($6.95) -- a strange sounding conflation of dense and flavorful homemade chips covered in beef braised in Guinness stout and Monterey Jack cheese. The combination totally worked: The chips were sturdy, the meat breakingly tender, its sauce dark with a meaty molasses tang. Daubed with sour cream and guacamole, these were great nachos.

Indulge Munch in a little extrapolation. Since, as a nacho topping, the Guinness pot roast is delicious, it follows that the roast is mighty tasty as an entree, as well as diced up on a toasted bun. Munch has faith that Monterey Pub's shredded beef sandwich is finer on the tongue than it is in name, so long as the meat is properly sauced and the bread properly toasted.

Munch tried a burger ($5.50), and it was steak-like, on a soft bun, with particularly pungent red onions. It was well-matched to the thick chips -- fat potato spears in the Irish/English style, not fries -- that came piled on the side, and a very malty scoop of coleslaw. In true Irish fashion, the waiter offered malt vinegar, and Munch happily doused the chips. They were delicious.

FOM ordered the shepherd's pie ($8.95), which several folks at the bar, watching it pass by, mocked as "shepherd's brick." It was indeed dense: a ramekin of peppery ground beef mingled with peas, topped with a layer of mashed potatoes and capped with melted Cheddar. It was the job of a fine steak salad ($7.95) to lighten the meal, which it accomplished with fresh spring mix, baby spinach and lean, tender meat.

For St. Patrick's Day, Monterey Pub promises ear-splitting Irish music. They will encourage jigging. Irish gustatory faves will stretch the menu; in addition to the Guinness roast and Fish'n'Chips, corned beef with cabbage and lamb stew will be offered. Try a chunk of that wonderfully tough stuff known as Irish soda bread, which has proved most excellent, time and again, for soaking up the brown beery suds sloshing around in Munch's stomach.

Beyond the decent food, impressive libations, cold, clean drafts and a jukebox with good, diverse tunes, Munch was most impressed at Monterey Pub with the joint's true pubbishness. As in Ireland, people of all ages gather there. People who know each other head there to connect, conduct neighborhood business, take a load off. Those who are lonely seek and find companionship and a pint with fine foamy head at Monterey Pub.