Malcolm McGettigan PROUDLY SPONSORED BY GASTROGAS
TRO words Aoife McElwain photos Killian Broderick words Aoife McElwain photo Killian Broderick words Aoife McElwain photos Mark Duggan weird how monks are allowed to drink, isn’t I ask Anton as we approach The Jolly Monk, newly renovated bar of the Abbey Hotel. ‘I are allowed to drink, isn’t ited or somet g.’ bar of the Abbey Hotel. ‘I d think drinking would be ing.’ t that? Everybody drinks,’ ofession that doesn’t.’ I rink, isn’t lly Monk, Hotel. ‘I would be nk for a moment. What’s weird about that? Everybody drpainpy! says. ‘Name one pr sfeso easion t er smorinesnt.’ I e o an, as in you w uo ld think drinking wsoueald be er smoring on the tat mak Y ’ur laugh hib approach The Jollhiny Monk, I suppose I thoug h at th ’ Its on os o eose exc ea gn o recit elh cc ht th ht that the monk was one.’ after the monk’s drinking, ok at the sign!’ A monk y drinks,’ sn’t.’ I was one.’ drinking, monk n in i r en ts various guises ova s au he yea s harbverstIeses, Bry t trt ao be hn io, lo iens aw o u nn otm Jolk o m s Rehd etad with its hd ps the bridg ues Ab lbl, Th t aut me bes t gsi n ng aloft a on pauses aybe.’ ilt to p ar ar y t lay in te a purely, wf his ow u-n, p woo. Th o qa ht The Jtiot y Mt plpace for a nw ie; irt ou strooev tiinl Tht a sh kb , un mf in ni s ey na fmed a bar ak er the m hk’s dr side do ’e ynu e sohte s o u idiot,’ he says. ‘Look a ht t e sign!’ A monk Theats a ter smo fting in life, th inat mak , o looks like Neil Morrissey is holding aloft a Morrissey is holding aloft a e on his face. Anton pauses childminders, maybe.’ quite alluring about the hotel bar. The sense of ystery and briefly, fleetingly place that is at once home nematic imagination has surely, with the instituses over the years housing s, murder plots and the the corner of the bar and ekend holidayers eating a boxes on their laps (the the start of October, I’m f senio ig a de en fb oblering inaturts b e to o e at p ni le sh a head bf ious con o lf th e e mighera le O h e b r tn. ‘B’Threeqdier (€9) made with Bulld tleit b” urbole its o Th y e The t er no a le t s prett s uhich wae p ranatstiiodve , iat’ance opug tt ad by tter. is is the precarious emotional state of the rist writ large. Susan Sontag notes how the nd the Jolly o havin r ty ecen y ur rlace for its guests aks me aaifThl fregeo , w s e ven t wander in tao have a drinrk and rreelet. ega o gi es Ab lbl, Th t tvy manese r h lmin ly* p puno inlg tt an ffy b b in i e coc e os ngerbar and eating s ov wese r t. ‘Ar g ou go e Ivy Parliament Street, mple Bar, Dublin 8 ivydublin.ie 6718267 and bitter. t, nt waer ext y fve noh was rea ly t r ve , iat’ance s, ilecte real pitfall of the h omfort. of the how the ety at o photogfrom the too the spasms t served t for the he cost supfor the outsider. arge crun to our o the bara a B ecae e tioe pf craft bs s s, ieith s prett torically so well as a comfort blanket for the een’s subjects’ baser sensibilities at the cost he subjugation of the other. This, I supalleviates her anxiety at ngs by recourse to photogher environment from the uotidian form; so too the nter’, or the death-spasms onial mindset that served a comfort blanket for the r sensibilities at the cost aps (the ber, I’m or varit At the bm here ensiunny. the other. This, I supl of the hotel bar for the re, everyone is an outsider. y ur rev y a ra nton asve to o e. e exit, wavingd m rt h e as w iew?’ Atio of fi ks m n r tn. ‘B’s s le le baen te r um e see s thion to keep br bitte n ’ ive popu al tion: h l i The Is theryone is a , wni u h a hn-u fu n o tsider. An old man wearing a slightly-too-large crux necklace passes by us as we return to our le baen which was really t r ve , iat’ance f d betw en sweetn incing. We bConor Stevens e iple wh der ’t wa of variations on th sty e mr” uuite r um nd fhinwatc oor agages a rr ld go b w Boulevardier (€9) made wilinh B lenleit b” urbr n ts oldness is whilst rega conatstii dly b ls a slor them.o strangely co v pro a y ablen, anl know some peo Anton suggests. ng a slightly-too-large cruby us as we return to our The Jolly Monk 52 Middle Abbey Street, Dublin 1 01-8728188 www.thejollymonk.ie style bar”, suited to “watching the world go by whilst regaling old times”. While its oldness is contrived, it’s also strangely convincing. We probably all know some people who can’t wait to be grown-up, for whom it seems engagement rings and mortgages are one and two on the life agenda. This bar, born old, seems like a good fit for them. The Jolly Monk 52 Middle Abbey Street, Dublin 1 01-8728188 www.thejollymonk.ie 8 The Ivy styles i to b dose oe grow uxuru us co ura tself as “lf molioti-cuo lntin eme tas engag ce rings and mortgages are one and two on the life made up of around eight starter-sized plates and for t em. fhour main courses, with additional daily specials. There’s the option of a côte de boeuf, which is designed to serve two to three people. The agenda. This bar, b ro n old, seems like a good fit *I mean that figuratively of course, I was not literally overwhelmed by women. *I mean that figuratively of course, I was not literally overwhelmed by women. Tipperary way back in 1870s. For around 50 years, the Bolands of yore traded in hardware, fuel, beer, wine and spirits. In the 30s, Bolands Oh hey! Good to see you. How’s tricks? What you been up to? Not much? Yeah. Same. Busy with work at least? Uh huh. It turns out that (here at least) time is indeed a flat circle. We are still here, spinning our wheels and grinding our gears, passing the time that would have passed anyway. Nothing but the blues on the news and that hope on the horizon seems to retreat every time we take a step toward it. Bound by the trammels of fear and uncertainty, we are approaching peak Schopenhauer. And yet, and yet, in other places it seems that corners are being turned, pallid ghouls emerging blinking and bleary-eyed into the light. My buddy Riggins tells me that Lucien, a restaurant at the end of his East Village street, where I enjoyed drinking martinis in the before life, is nightly packed to the rafters with maskless sybarites. Careless or care-free, or both. Across the Williamsburg bridge, the venerable Peter Luger steakhouse had been filling out its dining room by seating life-sized waxen figures while indoor capacity was restricted. I’ve long suspected that our own Trocadero has been doing this for decades. Meanwhile, in London, sexual favours are allegedly being offered for reservations at modish places that can serve liquor and food en plein air. Those places feel worlds away right now, but, if you’ll bear with me, I’m actually going somewhere with this. Back to Dine is a concept that proposes to *I mean that figuratively of course, I was not literally overwhelmed by women. Dave Murray last year and the pair started 2018 with a research trip to Los Angeles in January, eating around the town and picking up inspiration. “As a classically trained chef,” Murray tells me, “my first thought was ‘how am I going to cook without butter?’ But it’s been a great opportunity to experiment and to be really creative.” The menu is writ large on the wall behind the service counter and it’s plant-based focussed but table next to us order it and when I lean over to ask how it is, they’re delighted with their lives. “Perfect hangover cure,” they say, as they melt into a happy meat coma. I’m too excited by the menu to limit myself to begrudgingly acknowledge that since the trend took hold it is much easier to find genuinely healthier options in the fast food and food-onthe-go landscape, and that has its clear benefits. Nutbutter, which opened in Grand Canal Dock in late March, includes the hashtag #sexyhealthyfood on their Instagram bio. That particular hashtag makes me want to crush a ripe avocado with my bare hands in a hot rage, but they are an Irish-owned company and their interior looks delicious so my interest is piqued. The café is an offshoot of HQ Gastrobar right next door, and it was owner Paddy Hogan who hatched the plan to open this plant-based café. Hogan enlisted the skills of Executive Chef , s . I plings ad to “ped m rtg the woe one a ynd t o on the life t agld tda. This ba , b r g o u im . While io o n old, seems like a good fit l d the them s moo cann I h with a healthy n-up, f r wh m it senl infl The Jolly Monk 52 Middle Abbey Street, Dublin 1 01-8728188 www.thejollymonk.ie eso 2013 and the Brasserie lost the star in 2014. That incarnation of the restaurant closed its doors in July 2015. Keelan Higgs, who has been at Locks since at least 2013, reopened as Locks 1 Windsor Terrace in September 2015, alongside co-Head Chef Conor O’Dowd. The new Locks is smart-casual; the charmluen ent em. The menu is *I mean that figuratively of course, I was not literally overwhelmed by women. GASTRO nature cocktaiere, ev e Negryles itself as “l p o us contin eems engagement eryo es a spicer,’ Anton suggests. and wotel bar forr tpeybly a l know some people who can’t wait vy sto to be git row eap, f liouxur r whom it sental Rathmines has a lot going for it. Not least of all, the array of pubs on offer. The most remarkable thing about the variety of drinking emporia that dot the suburb is the fact that, despite all being spitting distance from one another, each has fostered a distinct flavour of its own. Depending on one’s taste or the particularities of what you’re looking for at any given moment – Quiet pint of plain? On the hunt for an unimpeded sightline of a big screen? Inexplicably eager to swill grog in the crow’s nest of a pirate ship? One of Rathmines varied imbiberies is primed and ready to step in and fill that void. What sets Rody Bolands apart though, for better or worse, is the breadth of different niches that it aims to occupy. Rody Bolands first opened for business in of variations on th sty e mr” uui, s . I plings ad to “pnd fhing t e woe one a ynd t o on the life o le usct hn ooem waeerhit, butda. This ba , b r nstituhousing maleabrble cossuminlg bes, werae mig it b h flo t esses, scuc dier (€9) made w hit, b Thd ethhin t nt waer ext by fve nounny’r minimahl, but w t e peewstlel. Thly fin ht The Jiot y Mrooa evw ts gues tons o s, arrays ot wan t At the b b tuttload of framee o caer noeing a little otoer hich wae p t y ttas trac g s Th t ps b a ngs a d ph t rvu wp t.o tvs r velling individual alleviates her anxiety at amiliar surroundings by recourse to photoghy, engaging with her environment from the e distance of the quotidian form; so too the glishman with ‘banter’, or the death-spasms he once proud colonial mindset that served arby individuals for varitheir psychical comfort. emotional state of the o speak of (bar per rovest A le se a pue, ao kee ogey the fald lad in ie I’ do tvherwest. ‘Are you go y a ss tno putt t e au n thv e wa ey Hos ol the be t p o co v kta ce ahe I y snop it eek tphule spot.ledt l ex, , unaunter o e sf th bar h h n o tusina d of Elaecausuer Sthbo i hit b ieithhinle t s prettg a ’ hs e Ihy i ls tl a stily b l nce oager-ing a dee en f k id aiew?mfp ret io t ff f le Old S ermahere an Sontag notes how thection to keep br bit he fair paopyb. Thleir signature cocktail i The I egronio be grow uxur u it’ do ther helmin le yy* p inla end ewheads h pbex,er s a l pro ab bly b e o hven do craft beer! Ito’ t Th’r minimahl, b sele whilst rega e hr.ads h ob tself as “l p o eso conatstii dly b ls a s fougem.o strang ly co v papha . Thleir sigv t por a new ie; it rn eminiv aut nueve exit, waving b t A h I visit Chs s loe te Qust r ld St nma Bo leen y e pf craft b ’n its sene td w kendldnesumber t nt waer ext by fve noe Ihy i ls ttly tt ut with enod bl ughetween sweetn incing. We o put t e auld lrad iny a l know some people who can’t wait BOLAND’S SWILLS Rody Bolands e ven oor lesder in teo hioe a dr eqva e tioe pf craft bs s s, ey e Fh en do craft boer! I s ulit),d t’ eet o . Th w toedg i pod coloaenioremceny ev, s yrnpace fey a ra nt rrts an u n t e menu. I p um ep d for auated in the heart Whrth woofu d not home. Thf a c irritle. Hagin l hen peopos D derlad onakmod et ps being a little orap s m sitio, unloc k of (bar p r stein with a smi of his t-se exc ean o recit elh cc e ps arut a sh ps burer ee, Bry thtian adf enormous folder (A2 size ma bf the Thkm s Re happy!’ It’s one on his face. Anton pauses hroing in lifp, th in ldmin o There’s something quite alluring about the a of drinking in a hotel bar. The sense of permanence, of myster r eny and b iefly, fleetingly give way to an imiclture o mantic trysts, capers, mur a out the se of fleetingly nce home ion has e. Suffice it to say aowenere tt yt The Jn te o b llhoru s Rita Hayw e peoewstfled coloaenioroiem p wahen t aee a d cla The b lding ththt h dend a y a ravwdie; irton as tiinla s atini g o t t e coabrble co umin rrarenera nlk iys it ss les h fy’ n o h w ts es blishm ht cro ur reusf yt oe bmfo t emind we ae tuaour 20s hvang-lly’s are better re in otth . I ui inf svy, ar tllougtroit pbab-ley b nings,cGo ioct h hi at akerhit, b tu d ers inside don’t need the st ior p Ice h’ioam le fae fvr lo sf tehe Tht L h.ochchin s A fri bs i erdend a a picture o e cinematic ime w attet de tasady bo g v e wa ey H al the b gt ptr. ‘ot reminded me er etk euh hebsa oh h pa py,’ he stops tve wa o me a pp aca le sadn ats. Th i l ret t r ads ‘Those a paat s ury o hinf his own, pr gio s y ta y to an imicltsh I was tna hes . H e back urn momen arle o f thos hir hily t ring on tone terrace g Y ’t n ugr enormous folder (A2 size ma by e?) ab b f a c irritledating it is we w l hen people use t eir phones ught: ‘I suepose chiside do ’t n ugaybehte s o y q ne a pp aca le sadness. The bi l rtkThe t irritating it is wh M o s Dof the Thk Tht h en do craft boer! Iver tiof the famhts a c h lde vy He Ie ah ethelmin lem ile chg tt d bty t o mous folder (A2 size maaoue?) aaunt, wc he ar orem tat-en no imm d o d a f the en p rt a S tuthload of fray soetcah. saunter acros e ograup p to tve pa ron ecting lives, in a place t a l s at on o neoaemoue d Ca f foetcas Recks wigs aith my friene andating it is w enur t y le u un h a l D k sits acrhotogverlit),, who’s at mak ders, me ynur leed t.’h er verp tlight’ in ciouickld afyf sitio, unu n om Joly soetcah. b f a c irritle. He w acl hen p t y g a of his t-shirt reily to r Seae oo , alg o t a ss arue perorat of invnisthdd bry tg bc e a orem tat- n di e f a s o n, pet tood ouat in aneme, son s par-gs,to recit his, soem oith the instite preo ed o f svy, as t t creh act--t our taniner ibw mfgs, t s f p ys i h y’re in otssys’ coeen ssecah lg a dely eehougtrzerik is. Once y er o eef tt h ihh a stunnin a mg orue pler rat ohf invnisthdd be o e w oys ot wait d in thte flaan at-lxecausuer Str ax.d rf craft be eggy Ke o s a cots gues-ts an ns a t a sh ps burer un re English lads’ weekend holidayers eating ad with i t s pr b unny’r minimah t s to vd , t hin lde w it a tric ar pe hven do craft boer! I s ulit), tiof the famatio b t pea y soetcah. y e aowenere tt yt The Jn tt plde vy Hi y sptobeo sllo ssfen turvthcin a bver (vit pebebs a coly b nin f va , rige t b-sl h tt eThanh e o b llhorubs i b h’e I l thorhot the r ee u seleatioin tin uep brew f them. That leav ni, with a h pf o ned affilio s Do sf the Thk Thd et m Papa John’s pizza boxes on their laps (the ’s kitchen opens at the start of October, I’m d) and heckling nearby individuals for variinfringements on their psychical comfort. ass a ma , unasse, B y thf t e a orem tfat Ahe b d s d a f (b Thert ps b a nle thinh n no si t Th , h tt eThanh, t hin lde wt p bs iib de e rh of deheb t p bs. R e fairer sex, thrdger ’ coy ftp ur s ht The Jochenos pe oelos r i. M’ o ned affilider ploatio bd theo speinrg in.a r ners We ssyiso upol. ThlmaanF s tay Mo lp g ore perorarr tyblesing vd eople u loe tk a wa en t aee and cleeaher. Its estaan in er te M ps burle co uminlg biran adf ration h n me o d Gárubb s, w tey m naea es t em ile ced’n ur s t o am t e Bombn tes A einptled colo enio eme, s noo o s a cots gues-ts and wh ll past MVP and t oexts. ‘obot’s nice ter H hdeld b s e vys otapenh floweo h e a drink and r let. Whdg tlr h hin lde whe taeir phonhin, Th hut m w es t si nv y a sensteoss is the lack of r oi t plde vls Enly t es g aboen to co f th of G n o p a g a o goivy e wa es, ws ov wes t p o cole chg tted bsty tce ahe e auld lad in otvy m nages es t tsi nv kt iat? Plentks miginhgt h d b he b rao imm dir tn. ‘B’d aleh le tuotload of f m s Rehhin t nt waer ext ty fve no u n om Jolk o k P do t er a t. ‘Ahosunly* po inaa o pu ues Ab lbl, Th t aut me bes t g ebera l ints ohe fairer sex, f sv b cur suihld ill t, th pt ery) ch ie; iwbamte d wine a . g a oun nder in ta m f Elae ss o l, b ramee o caer noeing a little otog a ’ hs e Ihy is tt a l pe pro a eview?’ At ty a ras so s eeded m.en the m u va o tt te barad of Execcausuer S w lax. , Ieerhit, buco . W n b ieithhing aensiunny of variations o style barenuuited to “ped fhing t e world go by here a le ttehn ooem wat hia er s s s, oimeso on asnd whos wer”, s . I plumwatc or a h ctioars laty o ling ove g t nhrhi ugoeeh a ns is u vardier (€9) made wilinh B lenleit b” urbr no o n old, seems like a good fit whic ’r minimlal, but with en d blor thhetween sweetn incing. We not dirty.” In a Vice article the following year, food writer Ruby Tandoh shared her personal story of how the “wellness” movement contributed to her eating disorder. Cases of orthorexia, an intense obsession with eating foods considered to be healthy, became connected to the movement, and critics pointed out the trend’s reliance on exotic and expensive ingredients, as opposed to fresh, local and seasonal. But even the harshest critic may be able to le rnt e f the bcg b r, w bt to tlowao ho imm rar tn. ‘Bs s lewa ’ oev y c n er o l frlor aal hnaaf f a le Old S er aae a dr ewsdqay te poem was s b ieitsa th, anns atvomcnink anf Rees mlet.hminut wive a wh Balance is an elusive beast. We seek out slices of it in our work, in our personal lives, and in our diets. Over the last decade, for some people the secret lay in a goji berry, kale and nut butter rich lifestyle evangelised by cookbook authors and social media stars, but it appears that the socalled “clean eating” movement has had its day. Nigella Lawson wrote, in 2015, that “food is gasiar v ded mevs c y o rts b r sia avts fcit d ie th innd befh ps bhura pt . Th t Thcur se Jolaly M pe s a co o mours folder (A2 size m yaa be?) aaso, un unters, a tian adfays oith n h flo p wahen t aee ah fy’ nd clas Whh in led co blishm hs t t creh act-taat shinf hi om t e er ee, B ecehan B r. Thid a ninw mfor andating it is wt eturn me o bo orr- bs is, w l ys it s re in other. Its es p mpbli hmen omenutt pu - d ao v cen malebrble cob umin rrar, wf freso immer a a g a o goivy e wa es, ws ov wesest p o co v a uraterinse mig oores - t t r a nor ie’ Atio of fi ks me h ogs,o-n aspd whos wer s o eir pho’nesae ey ev ’ rt d LED s h e Ihy is tt ah s a surprising hings a o a en h ner g vkina h oager-ing a dee en f k i - ieace fou w no s ks m hne. er s, a tidn adfe v h h nah fl n edi e f w?’ Atio o peno o s w e i, be t betkwlminem is pu nl ien t tfs. Bpt if ytou o ur rly will cona ure coc h , L h-spol ar emo aav Baxou of thr f fpen lio he b d ohere he e t n o e ograup p t.o tve pa ron ort emin o oneeaoe exit, wav ages tgsible cehaa eensed ewhreads hvpny ction t venlace I lon rep b Leto h ten th hin nny t heirig t. Mo; to sit io of fp ciil il the N r les io lf as “l ensin ws ct hn ooem waeerb lt doleilutt b e ograpt Thff the bea ron d b bitte .s girer sa e te t eir sig wants an l pink aull fnd rrelet. umh Bau y a urbon eig e ax.urh en d b a p e mo -tra o go tcGarry’s is neio a ak, aed then sweet vo tyt rotsem anuxurem outiinen.a of being open, and a combination of early positive coverage and the reputation of the Bereen brothers has clearly brought people to their door. It’s full and buzzing, but it also feels like they’ve been here for years, which is down to the experience of the team who’ve gotten Charlotte Quay up and running. This isn’t their first rodeo. Chef Killian Durkin is at the helm in the kitchrits u wp t.o tvs rea cono rs tly b ls a so strang ly co v s the N t agld tg o u im . While its oldness is The Jolly Monk 52 Middle Abbey Street, Dublin 1 01-8728188 www.thejollymonk.ie vy styles i t, with a hn-u fu r whom it sental watc oor agages a rr ld go b w of transformations, as has this restaurant. Back when I was outside looking in, its owners were Claire and Richard Douglas, and had been since the ’80s. Sébastien Masi and his partner Kirsten Batt took over in 2010 and rebranded as Locks Brasserie. In 2013, Head Chef Rory Carville helped steer the team towards receiving a Michelin Star. Carville left the restaurant in the summer of eap, f lio s contin eems engagement wa tz Pmr per ae o cer noeing a little otos up ure. e do thr w es t , b t bt k eAhos cens pulno put thosie O’Grady’s is currenty ev, s ycen lrn r a new aht rtte Qt yy l e exit, waacks a ing u s, ae might waif fble Old Stadi te f xc f (b Th t ps b a neble thing a culislt),t otvy m nag re you goey a s i ’h l ter a t. ‘en t y* po in aaueensce a e e auld lad in h aces Ch rlo f fiv ded mend P s, re you goey a sv g on c heads hepa s ews a d- es McGarry’s, a eay’ul o k sineshickua py. Their sign s t e Negro f our cit e a simigs a d ph tetenthing, but both hath enoughiff of p – James Joyce, “Wandering Rocks”, Ulysses n on Iri f the p b’ osta end eople use taeir phiones t betka es t em is e tdgsys’ comtaan anhin lde wh lde v b , be haut m ween t e e y e?) abder out how ad with its h h g a oenuthounn ibe, b t be Igy Th t H re a ld’s Cr u aua nt in alir y bven f e s ut how ad w h id pnts oss thhd esbaleos Dn a ce a apen io we s atnd al ws w , wera resder in teroaavf Elg oeuuer Streeax. t b ’ t Th e, theret’s to ont worry,’ she ws q t rather than eses an – I’ll take a mélange, Haines said to the waitress. – Two mélanges, Buck Mulligan said. And bring us some scones and butter and some cakes as well. When she had gone he said, laughing: – We call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cakes. te f s seh as The F s i dl es fndoor me. It was e nor you a oooug. hetwe ther hip nor trendy. You won’t find Neapolitan pizzas or craft cocktails with cutesy names on the menu. Wings and pitchers of Bavaria are the vibe here. One sunny evening, I decide to nip across for I am no Joyce scholar and have under my belt two failed attempts at getting all the way to the end of that one in which he wrote about the ‘ineluctible modality of the visible’, but I am struggling to put my finger on the what Some years after the foundation of the college in 1592, I was myself an undergraduate of this august seat of learning. Hard as it might be to imagine, I was as a callow undergraduate, a shy and studious boy, untutored in the ways of dissipation and ignorant of the myriad pleasures of carnality. Mine was a life of the mind. I would cleave to our motto to Prove all things (and) hold fast that which is good. This state of affairs barely survived my first Michaelmas term and by my sophister years I had given myself wholly to the pursuit of the epicurianism that is the meat and drink of this column. In those days, prior to the vagaries of global screens. No c ah t or cra liic. J If you’re interested in food in Dublin, you’ve probably heard of the Bereen Brothers. That’s Marc and Conor, the siblings behind Dublin brunch and dinner stalwart Coppinger Row. Their latest venture, Charlotte Quay, is named after the block of the Grand Canal Dock that houses their restaurant and bar. The spot has previously been home to Mourne ads ‘Those a poem o e frorw t ee preo ew o Olo y, ahenougtrdenik i tichupa tlight’ in ct c hd atfurfiliara b tutnotm Jao y srame er a l h water f i l r Than h pa py,’ he stops tve wa o me a pp aca le sadn ats. Th ill ret appy!e m’onk wa f tn ts afthat do k’ing in life, tha in a e ynu e sohte s o dle of his t-se exc ea g race. ‘ gio s y ta y to an imicltsh I was tna hes . H e b k urn momentarf hih.’s t-shir hily tes, rare t oem o-e from t eh inted out in an ursive, under out how er side do ’ r ug b f a c . ‘I wiure o e w ac . ‘I wiure o inkin. ‘ our leaed th er verp tlight’ in cy quickly l ys it s t r ads ‘Those a pat s ury o hinf his own, pr th ges, rare t oem o-e from t eh inted out in an t of the famouriliavs Do p wahen t aee ah fy’ nd classys’ comtaany, a enoug den tiinlg o apen io re in other. Its es pblishm hs t t creh act-erorat of invnisthdd bec e a orem tat- n NUTBUTTER CITY LIMITS Nutbutter ts aft h pa py,’ he stops tve wa o mn imp acas ble sadn at h BEHIND THAT CLOSED DOOR Locks 1 Windsor Terrace seats after smoking on the terrace. ‘You’re so h pa py,’ he stops to say to me. ‘I wish I was that happy!’ It’s one of those exchanges, rarely occurking in life, therrace. ‘ ks,’’ It’s one of thos hir h n es, ra e tlhat shine from the g on the t t m k Y ’t nour leaed th er verp tlight’ in cy quickly gio s y ta y to ae. ‘I wli h I was thess. The back t r ads ‘Th reos y occurursive, under e you re so ter very quickly GARRY ON McGarry’s SOUND OUT Stage 19 MAKING A HAMES OF IT Mulligan & Haines GOOD SPORT The Pavilion Bar at Trinity College Dublin SADDLE SUP The Horseshoe Bar at The Shelbourne Hotel DRINKING ON CLOUD EIGHT Humphrey’s York Street’s The Swan is a pub of note for a few reasons; firstly, it is one of the oldest licensed premises in the city centre having operated as a bar since 1661, and the essentially untouched Victorian interior that you see there was installed by Thomas F O’Reilly in 1897. Secondly, it has in recent years been afforded the reputation as a hub for clandestine operations in town. The mere mention of its name elicits in many a knowing smile and an assurance that it’s one of the preeminent venues in town for dates that you don’t particularly want anyone you know stumbling across. The root of this association remains something of enigma. How a traditional public house, associated by many with its proximity to the Royal College of Surgeons has managed to acquire this noirish sense of the illicit remains a mystery. Perhaps the association lean towa pu the rough-h The Ra immediate insigha aps th t ha e b day and stirring renditions of You’ll Never Walk Alone can be heard from out on the street. On this particular day, there’s none of that. quess onatblery r out the n ure o ing the harsh glar Du ce of tthe s as ers’ portraits, neon signage and old horse-racing o o d wa l hingp up t, of cot pusurse.ople res lo utely avoiding eye contact w tai h each other.ro T king its name f m s at le y, plump Buck Fortuna et ly McGarry’s is home to a perfec ytl a few refreshing beverages. The pub itself is spacious with brick walls and plenty of snugs and booths to sink into. It’s usually reliably lively and boasts a diverse clientele. Most notably, it’s home to a Liverpool supporters’ club meaning a sea of red jerseys descend on the pub every match the traditional starter/main course approach, so my pal and I order five of the smaller plates to share. Our table is soon stuffed with plates of fish, meat and vegetables, food perfect for sharing and facilitating a catch-up chat. A plate of delicate tuna crudo (€12.50) is flavoured with a touch of orange, and layered with finely diced red and green chilli. A plate of charred broccoli (€8) is served with a delicious roasted almond hummus, and the hen’s egg is a crisp delight on the outside and a molten, runny joy on the inside. Both are front-runners for dinnertime favourites. The Toonsbridge Halloumi (€10) is nicely fried, flavoured with za’atar and circled by a sweet squash purée, but it is a little over-shadowed by our enthusiasm for the meat dishes. The often polarising chicken liver (€8) is welcomed heartily at our table, and delivered with berbere spice, crispy chicken skins and shimeji mushrooms, which work beautifully with the rich tones of the buttery livers. My favourite plate of the night features a Dexter beef tartare, served with harissa, bulgar wheat, and blobs of sumac yogurt, all served on lavash (€11), a crispy flatbread thought to have originated in Armenia, but with claims to Persian roots too. It’s a creative little snack with all of the parts working together to make a truly tasty mouthful. We also order a little bowl of 36 62 take you away from all of this by transporting you to out of reach destination restaurants. No previous experience of astral projection is required, nor is the famed bi-location of the saint formally known as Padre Pio, who was proven (on at least two occasions) to have enjoyed ing maître d’/waiter is decked out in jeans and a subtly crisp shirt. It’s a simple way to quickly set the tone; this is more of a relaxed neighbourhood bistro than a Michelin-starred fine dining experience. There’s a lot of dude bros in this restaurant; I spot at least one man-bun in the kitchen. fell on hard times; eventually shuttering as a business in 1937. Following its closure, the Bolands continued to use the premises as their family home, leaving the various heirlooms of the building’s former life untouched. Enter Tipp-man Kieran O’Meara who purchased the contents of the establishment, refurbished the lot, and shipped every last charming parochial knick-knack up to Rathmines. Fittings, furnishings, even the impressive library of yellowing ledgers that line the back of the bar – all made their way to the suburb that never sleeps via Nenagh. not exclusively so; there are options to add proteins including chicken, turkey, salmon, and beef, all sourced in Ireland. Behind the counter, staff are peeling and chopping butternut squash in the background while the rest of the team assemble heirloom tomato and avo salads (€9.95) and bowls of Rainbow Padthai (€12.95) to order. It’s the jackfruit tacos (€13.95) that win me hph: (01) 537 5767t Book Now! RESTAURANT NEW h d atc s A peanuWe caer par sfat the chateaubriand sharing Considering its history of transience, the same modest dish simultaneously in nonadjacent trattorie. No, the mode of transport here is the menu. The idea is that chef Temple Garner (San Lorenzo’s, Bresson etc.) teams up with other chefs who are not small but far away to bring some of their signature dishes to us poor souls trapped in Dublin. It’s bringing the menu to Muhammad, or whomever. Collaborators (transportations?) to date have included JP McMahon (Aniar etc.) and Yann Florio (Kreidel, London). The menu I happened upon featured dishes from the much-garlanded Myrtle restaurant in Chelsea, where chef and owner Anna Haugh (all the way from Tallaght!) has had urbane types eating from the palm of her hand since opening, when she could open. Myrtle has been on my radar for a while now but as I can’t stomach the idea of travelling to London (even if that were possible) while Boris Johnson continues to exist, this particular BTD collaboration represents something of an ideal scenario. I trekked the fifty-odd metres from the office to San Lorenzo’s on George’s Street with my lockdown wife to pick up the box on a recent Saturday. As with all such meal kits every element is meticulously prepped and packed, rendered as idiot-proof as possible. There’s even a ‘cook along with Temple’ instructional video! We pop the cork on an excellent bottle of cava (name absent from my notes, alas) suggested by noted sommelier Cathryn Bell (Wine Rover) and set about it. There is some good soda bread with buttermilk-whipped butter to kick things off, followed by some snacks showcasing some fine Irish producers. In rapid order, we dispatch some Gubbeen chorizo, over. Jackfruit is sort of like an ugly mango and it’s blessed with the ability to soak up flavours and retain moisture. The tacos are served with Murray’s delicious cashew nut cream, red wine vinegar pickled onions and avocado tucked into soft white tortillas. Thanks to the vision of interior decorator Jill pig’s tro berutifuked do n t h of smesq s wuiett inith tarrah n (€3), with o an oh I’zy, tentder, pulled-apf tt meat encas d in a cr spefoae, t batter. tteas cool and, ewen t oug o ve ea en a variation oarhis dish a milelion times bi y brll ofhis one tastes y g up t go a e v fresh and perfectly of the season. t butt n’t resi it (€7.50) with s lted perhaps it is somewhat fitting that Bolands feels like it’s from somewhere else entirely. Rody’s bears the qualities of a multi-purpose mondopub at the heart of a rural – though motorway adjacent – town. That is to say that the premises is monumental in physical stature caramel, caramelised banana and a chocolate mousse is really well balanced. It could have been far too heavy or far too sweet, but instead it’s just on the right side of decadently delicious. A charred peach and fig dessert with amaretto and vanilla ice cream (€8.50) is lovely, but feels a little too prematurely wintery, as the fruit has been poached in what tastes like the classic booze and spices mix so favoured by Christmas cooks. There may be some bumps to iron out, as L’Estrange of L’Estrange Design, Nutbutter is poised and ready to be ‘grammed. It’s millennial pink meets palm tree print and bamboo light shades; draping succulents hang overhead while leafy fronds cover corner crevasses from their pots; even the cutlery is rose gold. It’s very beautiful, and it elevates the atmosphere of what is essentially a counter service canteen. Poké, proteins bowls and peanut cacao balls could all veer perilously close to being eyerollingly #sexyhealthyfood. For me, it is saved would be expected in the early days of a new business, but I don’t experience any on my visit. The staff are friendly and knowledgable, giving good tips on what to order and steering us away from over-ordering (we wanted to try everything), and the room is a pleasant space to be in. We grab a drink at the bar connected to the restaurant after dinner, watch the rain hit Grand Canal Dock, and think about how lovely this veranda and vista would be on a sunny evening. Even in poor weather, it’s still a beautiful, urban view. Our bill, which includes a glass of Montepulciano (€8.75) and a homemade hibiscus syrup with sparkling water drink called the Queen Medbh (€5), comes to a total of €90.75. Charlotte Quay has everything it needs to succeed: a great view, a talented chef, experienced staff leading the charge and an already loyal fanbase. All they need is for Dubliners to get over the psychological barrier of eating off the beaten track. This spot is worth seeking out. board special (€15 extra per person and it’s worth it). We get plates of slowly braised short rib and then a board of pink slices of the tenderloin fillet (aka the chateaubriand), topped with onion rings and golden, fluffy chips on the VIRTUALLY THERE Back to Dine crubeen croauce pr LOCATION IS QUAY Charlotte Quay The food is a beautiful mix of unfussy and intricate, delivered via a pleasin lg y precise menu. Three courses are €28, with substantial supplements for t e specials. The s arter s ep cial of plump m kac erel (an additional €6) is grilled until Step Inside 227x108mm_Nombr.indd 1Step Inside 227x108mm_Nombr.indd 1 bli ts ered and blackened, with charred cucumber, crab meat and blobs of avocado sauce. It’s delicate without being up its own arse. From the regular menu, baby beetroots are served salt-baked with their lovely long roots attac e , sprinkled with m h ticks of apple and blobs of soft goat cheese. There are micro-greens and circular discs e pl t . It looks really pleasant beer garden so I make a beeline for it with my pint in tow. En route, I pass a handful of punters playing pool in the pub’s designated pool area, positioned smack bang between the toilets and the beer garden. Its close proximity to the latter means players can go for a cigarette break mere feet away while still having a front-seat view of the would-be Dennis Taylors slugging it out inside. Handy! I plonk myself down at a repurposed keg where I remain for the evening. The pub is home to a restaurant known as The Joshua Tree. (It describes itself as a brasserie, no Mulligan and Haines, the otherwise unnamed English student who stays with Mulligan, this Dame Street bar occupies what was once Sweeney’s Mongrel, what was once Le Cirk, it is about th of the lobb f J tlo t e Horses os, per o e nature oy inoycea Mulligan & Haines is h en mics f e sts t aeir cockesp e t vatail menu c aims. Unlesotio mistaken ab to it. I m ktaae a m f Jaoent l n to e that this windowless spot is not the place for day-drinking. The Ins et ad, th e ier s a smattering of cminte waers avo -id hile high-ceilinged, is h mun af rel and it was actually just a mishmash of Pinterest car us omlled room, w e osh whi key bot any tele isionTHE HOME OF well a thizzald cost me to get inte r dik-l moodboards including reproductions of the STEP INSIDE THE HOME OF w warming and climate change, the winter months in Dublin would stretch interminably from August to April. As students we would go to any lengths to find shelter anywhere on campus that didn’t house a library. That meant drinking in the bowels of the Buttery Bar, just off Parliament Square. With its groined ceiling and sloppily poured pints of Guinness, it served a purpose and the occasional bout of listeria seemed a fair trade-off for the warmth and keenly priced beverages. It was with the onset of our too brief sumgoal here is not to c a g l h n Dublin thaft mances little dis d opa t esgsinogr th ygtudenloom i it l sive a unnd mo d alf coin , igse I a luires yoy ycean Dublin, Quality American and British pool tables in the heart of Town. The Hideout - Dublin’s best kept secret! mers however that we would live out our halcyon days. The Pavilion Bar, or ‘The Pav’, as it’s BOOK YOUR TOUR AT JAMESONWHISKEY.COM I’m told that there’s no pickle brine for my douchey martini but the Negroni that replaces it works like popping a pacifier in a baby’s mouth. Another reason to shut TFU is a steak tartare that comes atop diminutive blue cheese sandwiches which have been steam-warmed. It’s a statement of intent. I’m a big fan of oysters, there’s little to compare with the experience of cold briny bivalves, tasting of oceanic sex, slipping and sliding down your gulliver. I’m a fan of cooked oysters too. Wiley’s Nashville hot oysters (a riff on the furiously hot fried chicken) are reason enough to come here. They are momentarily deep fried before being replaced in their shells with a sauce offering just a suggestion of sting. Sublime. Oyster mushrooms, parmesan fondue on sourdough toast is a pleasant thing to eat but can’t hold a candle to the previous delights. The dish I’d most looked forward to – pork hock, pickles, hot mustard, steamed buns is not on tonight, chef tells me that he’s not quite happy with it and that’s reason enough for me. It’s back on now and I will be back for it. Venison chilli is a deeply involving bowlful, profoundly savoury Nutbutter Forbes Street Grand Canal Dock Dublin 2 www.nutbutter.ie Upper Rathmines Dublin 6 rodybolands.com BOOK YOUR TOUR AT JAMESONWHISKEY.COM side. Itc seaso e JAMESON vplay behind a cage – The Hideout 49 South William Street, Dublin 2, 01 537 5767 es a dainty double chop of impeccable quality. We may have briefly rested heads upon forearms at this point before tackling a dessert of hot cross bun bread and butter pudding, which duly felled us. Fur Locks 1 Windsor Terrace launch their Christmas lunch menu on Wednesday 2nd December. www.thehideout.ie Introducing our spanking new website, the perfect complement to your inky friend. Harold’s Cross Rd, Harold’s Cross, Dublin 6W 01 406 6936 for the service neither forgets their worries, even tem orar k of lamb with both salsa verde and places to visit, editor's picks & countless ways to fall in love with the city and its people. A SITE FOR GLAD EYES lhile, egu ars potter in a d o t for smanes anl of my A SITE FOR GLAD EYES a ful and eats lik I stay in the beer garden for two p ts and mulliganandhaines.iet a s and prd peppero of each) – lemon sole, Dublin Ball arobably tas eni in , b t macon an position to te Introducing our spanking new website, the perfect complement to your inky friend. A SITE FOR GLAD EYES Featuring a dazzling array of things tpo do,ily? Introducing our spanking new website, the perfect complement to your inky friend. Featuring a dazzling array of things to do, ’t t remos untpreten McGarry’s 236-238 to order by either chefourho d thf the week’s s lifeless post-Ange uort rib. And isn attention an In a n d focus. A and timings lax. I w nd, s ingly delicious and comforting t ah t the ea Is it w th cror. The second main, ao ur ur g cooks to ma e.’ places to visit, editor's picks & countless ways to fall in love with the city and its people. Rody Bolands 12-14 Rathmines Rd Locks 1 Windsor Terrace 1 Windsor Terrace, Portobello, Dublin 8 01-4163655 locksrestaurant.ie Featuring a dazzling array of things to do, Web exclusive content also.ther sweet treats were pencilled in for the next day, the best of which being a compact yet dense slab of Gur cake, the madeleine of Dublin’s scruffy Web exclusive content also.ecollection. My late father (although never a gurrier) had a conflicted relationship to the stuff, being at once connoisseur and martyr to its quality of indigestive repetition. Behan himClickety-clack now! www.totallydublin.ie ness owned by the Kirwan brothers, the food offering at Nutbutter is best enjoyed when taken outside of the context of “clean eating.” It’s healthy food that tastes good and happens to be mostly plant-based, sometimes raw, and occasionally sprinkled in goji berries. I like Murray’s approach when he explains that he doesn’t think of plantbased food as a lifestyle choice or a restrictive diet. “We want our menu to be accessible to everyone and to add to the choice of what’s on offer elsewhere,” he says. “One night you might eat Italian at home, the next you might have a Thaiinspired meal. The third evening you might come out to Nutbutter for a plant-based dinner.” That sounds like a balance that I can get behind. LASER TATTOO REMOVAL & SKIN REJUVENATION Clickety-clack now! www.totallydublin.ie r Book your Free Consultation at Ireland’s only dedicated Laser Tattoo Removal & Skin Therapy Clinic Clickety-clack now! www.totallydublin.ie self was said to wield hunks of it in sock-ends during borstal skirmishes. I quite enjoyed it, despite the indigestion. A generous addition to the experience was a hulking serving of Welsh Rarebit to be enjoyed for brunch. Although I must admit to a little meal-kit fatigue (not quite Strumpet City hardship), I very much hope that this one carries on and finds a place of its own, it’s a neat concept. Ideally, I’d prefer if all such chefs were busy feeding their own bustling dining rooms in the near future, but maybe some of those ghost kitchens (that Deliveroo will no longer need?) could Charlotte Quay Charlotte Quay Dock, Dublin 4 charlottequay.ie 01 9089490 Back to Dine backtodine.com Eight course set menu for two, €99.95 Some are talking of a period of Dionysian excess to come for restaurants, a feeding of the febrile anticipation and dammed desires of 18 months. Will we see a roaring twenty twenties, a decade of fevered consumption? Will restaurant patrons be ordering the most expensive item stuffed with the second most? I suspect that the truth will lean prosaic, more sliced pan than pandemonium and that’s just dandy from where I’m sitting. Right now, I’d settle for a lunchtime bloody mary and a cheeseburger in Loretta’s, or a plate of linguine and clams downstairs in Rosa Madre or whatever. I’m easy, your call. ADVANCED PICOSURE® and rich, shot through with the fresh heat of jalapeños and balanced with gouts of cooling sour cream. The accompanying cornbread is the best I’ve had outside its native country. If it’s not on the menu you should petition for it. The dish that many will gravitate to is, of course, the fried chicken. They would be right to do so. Right now it is hands down the best in town. Perfectly moist thigh meat encased in a salty, spicy coating. The biscuit is perfect, the corn slaw more than an afterthought. Go get it. Their banana split is a dessert to put a smile on your face as it puts a notch on your belt. At least two of our party are instantly infantilised. Service is charming throughout and it’s immediately apparent that the floor manager runs a tight ship. The food here describes itself modestly but it could justify much bolder claims. I’d give a joint of my right pinkie for a restaurant of such quality in my manor. For the lucky denizens of D7, this is all the neighbourhood restaurant they will ever need. The rest of us will be hard pressed to find a better reason to cross the river. This is a North Star to follow. together for either of svine wevening’t iv doubt that if n d alernd delicio s, t a t demokd s so ex by exhibiting style and substance. In the kitchen, jars of fermented cabbage are on their way to becoming kimchi for the chilli, lime and tamarind rice bowl (€7.50). The bread used for their toast is a deliciously thick wedge of sweet brown bread made for Nutbutter by Lumney’s Bread in Inchicore. Their Nutella-style cacao and hazelnut spread (€3.50 served on toast with banana, bee pollen – I know – and honey) and almond butters are all made by Murray’s team in the kitchen. Similarly to Sprout & Co, the plant-based busiplaces to visit, editor's picks & countless ways to fall in love with the city and its people. ragon & Cais na Tire mousseline, vd jus andane bar flavoured with a golden raisin velouté – sounds like a mouthe it too. It doesn’t quite come in s tru mermaid. The first main (therd ft e are two, one th was in n - room pie. It won’t f . tDublin’s Best B.Y.O.B pool hall. 085-2357664 experienillce with dt amtill rsulina b inv hces me to sng st visit cony t e time I cha t e t in-Dublin-before-you-die listicles, but it provides the necessary sustenance. This is a truly muner dash of stolen literary valour. We’ll call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cocktails. ca ’ h thle l t oy di . Hoa us f the ee mea s rays. Alql thsite y r I w e to have the dish cooked s ald chats. . Th er, I ha e littleui e w un hut i eighb I’d be fl oced to r el a litttle staid and o lor at can feecant.resses melt 11/11/2015 10:0811/11/2015 10:08 It would be foolish and unfair to judge at this lid ooal kind of of al Itv’l ne, with tipsy amateurs plating upbs rbof ‘it’s graouldn’urt have tipped heavily ter ood so a o roast rac An apple tart on a cr sfacebook.com/TheHideoutPool/ Web exclusive content also.y circle of puff pastry a bordelaise, featur responsibility to be all things to all men when they operate in relative geographical isolation, it all just seems a little off to be in a pub in Dublin that makes you feel like you’re having a pint in Kildare Town. On the other hand, perhaps this curious unDublin quality is the very thing that attracts much of their clientele. Having recently visited to take in the All-Ireland Final, to say there was a conspicuous dearth of Dubs would be an understatement. Rodys is almost akin to a rural Ireland themed, TGI Fridays style bar/ restaurant – useful for both family dining and unavoidable work drinks. This dubious distinction alone assures Rody’s position within the Rathmines Pub Ecosystem. DW with salt caramel and praline ice cream stays true to its origins while delivering a flair of finesse. The elements in the chocolate tart with stout ice cream and a condensed plum sauce (adding another €4 to the menu) are too intense on their own but work really well as a mouthful. Our bill, which includes two bottles of still water and two macchiatos, comes to €104, excluding tip. This restaurant may have gone through a not. But if you’re here anyway, you could do worse. lot but it’s still a beautiful room over-looking the canal, with really lovely food and service. It doesn’t appear that this team is chasing a Michelin star. Nonetheless, it’s certainly still a treat to eat there. away, much like t e sh lhs, McGarry’s is a sohe gption. in tious and rea e fskonable, the definition ossing the bridge f r? Probably i p and its responsibility to both sell lasagne and chips AND stay open until 3am on Friday and Saturday clearly rank highly on the management’s list of priorities. Whereas pubs of this ilk have a certain ind itself on any w I must admit to a measure of opportunism in my choice, we had been invited to join family at their table in The Saddle Room for dinner - and it seemed like a fitting moment to perform the old two birds, one stone manoeuvre. In theory I would get to the Shelbourne an hour before dinner, belly up to the bar and do my thing. It didn’t quite play like that – two family members were standing sentry in the vestibule when I revolved through the door at about 20 past six. So be it. Walking out of the white early-Summer light h e bar prroves a one’s eye il s imm ev , otr ely dra y a closer tb William Street’s Da ota. A v s a cert hain slick es n ntas in t eir rktai adorne bd sigil, shabby though artfies, mul, betf Guinnrays thehe pair low-stakes amiability tht le somethine space ing the strings at Stage 19. This alcoholic, olivetheir snugs, b th b s n From the outside one would even be forgiven for Stage 19’s n w lo k first camle establishm tio h on h r p enll of the b ’s bur er ning relation (€4.80) leaving a liatt colours thg to b . Thee desired. h n e the game, but fill a gap. eer gardens, bo h with a q lit g bet independentt ent uoaviny o ween tess ea hing ta p eed to h e tav arwo diffgeo t entrancewa-ys. ship with adjacent music college, BIMM - The pub regu ar y hosting jam assumineg the o ery w e a sin e tg o my atten en anco cern rnin . Th, ae shi n gts. D -s perhe urude h at r m deeplu to adj st eqth of our local music ent tnat rebrandin us with prime reahl estate being l There i oo dooasor sepg coinereh nd a d h ppeated s not. Speas more an auxiffary s n t int v heen a oset of those pu - t n ati evtcy com act proportions. I feel like I’m s u s mtles on dis Trinity College Dublin, Dublin 2. Mulligan & Haines 32 Dame Street Dublin 2 The Pavillion Bar Murphy’s sea eed salad. It tastes liki pooling, bright and briney, a dish I would be proud to serve to a Japanese person or a that could b ort o oga the men fu surrept tious Rennie imme s p wou s, burger SOME OLD YARN The Rag Trader From tg time – a fache de On ap ide review Hut thhr lat v y sew it wa nce way. As we hinked o e 19, bhroer k inhe moment t t reflecsiocited in the thr aboumpe rey’s, I ki el n lim entra e c under i Rane evious guise a umpgevey’s i acea’ kshta age,siest ation was quickly made app ra ent as w lgicue ventured han painereste ting a toue assumed back wall of the bar only d ab “bove tkac ” of The Ra ere my more popiulae o South oac woe perennial red-hairh bowd s tling businessts prlcaagsh pub s e e; Hcen ssem e Ti, the roli B lit e e p ace to loedia e ven sa n tyt h g par d int d depic ion one way or th a s sus- uated pende next do r te doo ho thor. Wg T to realize that there was no such barrier, the siderabl establi Smyth’s; Humphrey’s, for bett td ertised as a “sister seems sb” to t ever be disc shments around the citky cen re routinely rd et to fore lo g-es blishussehd thro t; aunt, ewn quality of the signage oli ers aet of er or for worse, ect y int of what it i g Trader iking in terms of their amenities; t the two public ho s ffu es are essentially identied cal. Both spacio an ugly ducking, this is one of the finer examples of the ‘heritage pubs’ that entice countless visitors to these shores every year. With close ties to both the aforementioned Rising and the Civil War, the exterior façade remains pockmarked from gunfire, carrying a similar old-world prestige to the wood-panelled watering holes of Baggot Street, without the o tht of a martini gle otsher. Sit e con h rader fed dirost refurblsh rd ed coc efi l hugh the lens o t e mindrded their own sltlylisg camp iga n more t an anything e se. tin aratv g t e two su osedly w no thin h tminalrlyy pr a. Thrg St gaur way t ettugenuts n thild of th ual attir d a s Thblahr with covert action attached to the place stems from the pub’s reputation as a revolutionary hub during the Rising. Granted, you’re probably in here with a view towards the markedly less noble causes of shifting somebody that all common sense dictates you shouldn’t or sneaking in a few swifties after you’ve called in sick for work, but nonetheless there is a certain satisfaction in being part of the grand local tradition of doing shady shit tucked away in the low-lit hindquarters of The Swan. Up front oak and brass abound. Far from ade to s probably a bad ep-co some e snt ty of our situMy companions and I darkened the door of Drury Street’s latest arrival h, t e Rag Trader, at about 6pm on Friday – peak after-work drinkn was m ongs milling an td what waomnce, in the mi ssts of Jourcea the, t e Du lin Bread Com anyf the dirity mar- y the re-entering the womb and not in the good way. The Sam Stephenson designed bar protrudes into the cavity of the red-limned space like a brassy tongue and I realise that I want a cocktail. When it comes to cocktails (and most other hings) I’m ss oething of a classici t, favoy ingn time sahty, desicc l mu u e atpidr ’e di ways mlmous hooming, Moentnjo ot toauurteh-eas - bern co ner olinare cam us a t of co ars eprony f thy a u e th nd has loninin Eps tisot r a , y ud r bhoemae wuitrae on inssinua o drerae w oun which mor ca ta co bmmlonly knade o h lti-disci tini, ascreet y musown, is loka. I tund ny S ing Rocks, s scene, smaller venues are routinely shuttering. Neglected spaces that previously flourished due to a lack of interest from ownership are once again taking on the shade of valuable business propositions. The reality that providing a hothouse for a scene that’s small by definition does not a millionaire make is, sadly, not lost on most deed holders. Sure, a new generation of off-kilter venues may a Thae sanoospo ere vacuuinum. Ad ppes e ve aion o haguely in keem es t ith that hist ders. I some very pleasing hot-smoked trout paté from Goatsbridge with potato crackers and some charcuterie from McGeough’s of Connemara. Of the air-dried ham and lamb offered, it is the latter, with its buttery, sweet fat that induces a brief state of mutual mastication around the table. A chicken liver parfait is exemplary too, impossibly smooth and profoundly rich. Slathered onto slivers of tea brack crisp, it lubes up our appetites nicely for what’s to follow. Although the written instructions are perfectly clear, we fire up the video and I note that something about Temple Garner’s mouth reminds me of Enda Kenny, or rather of Kenny’s mouth. I also note that an hour has somehow passed and the bottle is empty. We collect ourselves to focus on the shared starter – Castletownber atmosphere-stifling shortcomings that are associated with being the haunt primarily of monied fifty-something gents. The Swan isn’t purely a tourist-trapping an rn o y ady wnense ike (tdws mean. Th h orno-sicket g Aepf pld derlicio throwback though. One merely has to cast eye over the respectable selection of craft beers on offer to see that the folks running the show are in-tune to the desires of the modern patron. For the less adventurous pint drinker, your standard Guinness comes in at €4.70, pretty reasonable for a town pint. Like its avian namesake, The Swan is a creature of two sides: its sophisticated, historical bar area being the white, elegant, public portion of its avian counterpart, while the concealed, darker and nigh lawless area down the back represents the little webbed feet going ninety below the water. One might appear more impressive, but it’d be nothing without the other doing the dirty work. are nowag o thtext I co ld get a cy low-budget b r r dress h le sigTh r y nee s s o ebsiace fl e with a rhe b , s et dr pros ll space no a ca et tn or rse soo The Rag Trader 39 Drury Street, Dublin 2 01-6727696 ragtrader.ie Humphrey’s 79 Ranelagh Village Dublin 6 18/19 Francis Street, Dublin 8 The Horseshoe Bar at The Shelbourne Hotel 27 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2 their lead from Ulysses ideals and characters – each one bolder than the next.” Curiously, the menu doesn’t list the ingredients of each cocktail, instead providing a somewhat bewildering and hyperbolic description of the sensations you might expect to endure while drinking it. I plump, stately-ily, for The Big Buck, a “wild geni There iicag th am in Th f sh le h lcoin f her ndk d wers? Only o e wa Gr l Rtohoets a pang oge 19 i eaens wsonmg ow Ycoryk. This fla fo d o t. A s cleft in tine ae could r e wosr k ao see. Stage 19 and unpredictable” whiskey concoction, while deal after the sanitary martini. Ray Charles is less.) A per ecd a co pug pecired looking A ropicatio su u or una e yt l , booth cockt iar t the men . Utnrlike its namesa a , i erffers li iesach) fall elf bac s I’fm feelin le o in is f idyllic pmer orn tons.nfts. A eringl e cr hb and Mungo ering around nsists o raun-osion. I wonder what ites as play mpanion sets hier p rons, two puceing Utface opia, wd cap a s of indus wall, the rest of the space dotted with tables that gradually thin the closer one gets to the stage. Despite the facelift, the space has retained an unshowy, lived-in quality. In keeping with the easter theme many surfaces have been littered with Kinder eggs, their associated playthings dotting the venue. I pick up a replica jeep dwarfed by my thumb. Spinning its wheels the parallels to the space are obvious, both small yet perfectly formed, decidedly fit for purpose. Bravo, Stage 19, this patron will most certainly Uis be lookoing forward to an encore.e t o s a serttle w o l shklit Hf t eir lohrth scenft es depicting dissie over owinughut repeas we w e leavwain for thhe dr ld tway A Pdy’s face is f lzen iny girl’ icts neg oni is de . Wem d e a tre drinkinnd I’m less t rgn surprised. R -ounding out tcey hder a Btrid tl Cr le p m and a vcen y ath d it over ice go unr h a veneer of sophisticaan gamely ceiling and lighting are both fittingly low. A well stocked bar (Guinness €4.90) lines one n oiro uesque imumes no lot ger a d discr f hl o pulled the drape aside. Fiw to f ttin let. my coing for the four oths staaltl higher by ordert inhich protmisry bes “inra a state o n looks good in a functional way. The ‘interesting’ beers on tap have been exhausted by the thirsty horde so we opt for a brace of gelid Budvar bottles and drink them outside with gassy relish. Life is good. It should be noted also that the Pav has long been a destination for the bag ‘o cans cognoscenti and the operators will now accommodate this fine tradition. After a couple more rounds we fork out a tenner for a four-pack of Tyskie and it goes down just fine. As college opens its gates ever wider to tourists (flocking to see ‘the Star Wars library’) and civilians (with the heinous ‘Summer Series’ of concerts) it’s possible that the Pav will come to feel just that bit less special, but right now, on a night like this, we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. o erwn fs a di h of minia ur Thh al an absence ostoh eat ace up reermtlou n anything at all wemarked. The barm tion ff dras u rom asn imagined ptast.e pretzels. After dinner, I return and get a serviceable old fashioned for €14 – it feels like a happy-hour with these criticisms since the wholly phoned in nature of what Humphrey’s does implies the management’s comfort in resigning themselves to a position on the second tier, removed from both the limelight and its associated scrutiny. For many, they are simply a fallback when Smyth’s is full, and there is nothing particularly wrong with that. Frankly, despite their shortcomings, and depending on the intensity of one’s misanthropy; it’s probably still the best of a bad bunch in the locality. Faint praise indeed. o sweet ag no ing concealed but a blank wall, an a empt to conee orave tar e f charac er, charm, or it ohag y, the thick drap tt The Swan 58 York Street, Dublin 2 01-4752722 theswanbar.com y g at one a o y sweet to the point w erh e I have to slip a u coll of gin and tf rnsgresf-the-mill bar bi e considered othert e syrupy en s at the base oteaks. A rlegs. Worse ta . d s, and s a f the g as t state in thir g tes on a previouisl s pletaceble f idealith-sed er antion… a drf tkk oh, I decide to co ur” lt und the t p of the b s (€9.50 ek l h e i and deba auc ery, drunkards s aggworldly. Rather, o thocate y after draining y claims and arpationp , its tas e is sp fi h c khe roost gustator y ick wio G h thess (€5.40), which , oenioun, by mou d musho y prawn, tar-h t-to-eattuinn e pizzas. I order ma artini in th’d e M&H co.ck i hl e wae. laim to “take tll Ay lickin ll dray, Ste Four Se tumos Nen re evor, t eah e thnks. She i ts uper on mg hs I put tesist hiin in a coit ple of lpruosps. M no a rn urs oeet yorror e loiohl ay’u rtichl ran tr eaf grassrn ts h m braade) d nly (a aioe on s apaening t a is a long atgane g mg a t t behind it? More s trass hs migrate its jp sted locd l hi s es bh n anaandles. Hihs imagor nn was imme yon s cecen ust likle tavts os cld captured, he’s an inquisitive sort. What cou e ampam o g ps oly ty die o ailny) refurbed wa rate o t coverel hont, perhaps unaware that her o so e na urte r er h inath, with th diatelrym breeze pange or at tset pre like a sl shoo pett that inato plnesume f p n her fr d in lacquered w pd alnd gra sss, siwucecets adorrow e, m tly bwa, wa e p corahtion, w co hmt ings a in nd sqos way t ouggs oroem tva , pd o f b dies spra ue k by’ere to be fdeun a d R op) f pet o R vh ci he bnts oe o e lin din h-ar un n es ill h fve to cor - ti ats, tue so t oper (a d proooreer y mwlh t price t h f €20 I couold red on tbly expec pping as pr n t o t eir closury sized curd redetvin ac haps t o we we ce for prima-ri y o com oo a toopm. andy, but it llo , oio at I ordered. A so e L n t’ h in rh f vases a arevtnhuso y comrpa ble saimll-lif anes eh f f bigue re Htioo sit in quiet co s iemp atorn, unmotlesth oyte fbject ster lg ab en ieep pl veace – Mor a gdirty’e Ha tlinlack a’ logo bt sas va o o praasenaoons tnns y bs defe unparae 19’ ility. V “b nter” next doepls tg wlo b l a trder olnumenue t necionn sy b , hs to reach mere erot er t udderleselviroune ehroun os, di r oabbhe ev a r iog ess, we s. The sou axon) b r (a sd the b of the cr temn th s frroun i attios os it ma tra k ro h d. Twtsrud in prep ra tinlg wa es t was ji n strugglied q e M&H co, q en I m k, I kt iitlh performanfd Mi. Thlthy’. Thi hsiderumni) anuirt t hi h co t th t of semis d w h a w locatiom ere ineinn b bnf und bhrtn hl ryolesune ernr a d vphrhip tey’s f o hi thie t n s t s enio es oe,e central d b hin he b a o overstate t e va ue o t em in Dupblin becrat sspace Jigsae ac w f mbg ser.ved liqlhde 10 ohd olif Ullysses. Where the two markedly differ is in their atmosphere. That being said, the idea of ascribing a value judgement based on this divergence in ambiance is somewhat thorny. Smyth’s is routinely jammed with well-heeled denizens of this, the leafiest of the leafy suburbs. Its milieu so much a celtic tiger throwback that, for those of us unmoved by affluence ogling, the mere thought of crossing the threshold (especially on a match day) can be nothing short of exhausting. Humphrey’s on the other hand, whether it strives to or not, manages to cultivate an absouot s m ting c’ve br b ating pleasures op o ever y ten t hoaos mis prro ou bgoing pope wu Oftentimes, w Rhe decou ’s not wh f mly hoer unr usaekanionletd uu t t kl e tetro Revwaivarlalec hn oe deliciouasi-a u th its a ld ihhe ya h urt tj r deallopb enmh t f ee wo d ‘ig- h s. It m u atio n imsignpling to find a city centre riget? W s sure y a mk ohi ling ats t t bulrligadn & l h a ts “f p aceurhtion mar pt arrives s e inas lefg oue pro many g it’imm drinkd g cold By (s irt d al in size an us sougwo o es ing t ese o ervap shirkintrength level of s lini . The drink, when s a b’s fritking that I cross e nd td the doles ew De plin be oer anp io ded our in r at er s aedere from a nice co pu e aaturae oafr’o e h aded to t al Indie Cla b’r pr p bs entire place is made out of drawers. That might initially read as hyperbole, a little poetic license being taken on my part to illustrate the fact that, sure, there are more than a few drawers. But no such luck. Floor-to-ceiling on the majority of walls, the entire façade of the bar itself, each and every secluded nook: all drawers. This striking interior design move was obviously conceived with a nod towards intimating a relationship between location’s current incarnation and the haberdashers that would have occupied this space in the past, an attempt at legitimising the same waistcoats and pipe-smoke, Dr. QW Pimms Goodtime Chelsea Cocktail Dispensary aesthetic that someone, somewhere, decreed all new city centre bars must adhere to. On collecting a round of Guinness (€5.30 a ecausy o ay se e H rasn h o t comes to pubs, it’s hardyon o co aoanwn o ua h lems t etith ‘ce space that errs to h t I rward the lilliputian ology. Conicld a”puml hrey’s t as caeqdh sicbse e hot sluch a daatues g of razzledazzle, naotiotanylly admirably in d. A d ide an h, in H e peterom th s there wa’ fopaces, d th n t e s ttio u s eas er ts slaract rndderiches em d in D , wit S strbjen y a bior th uen s h , doorsona e ment is oo oernad vitae o y scas h o oor ge l lies es f q o t . W ratene w n. - uin aree an l. Onls) leaae t ir sposu le n nd th ts er celeb en wh a e space imb es ig srmer use ueica. I et fr t s a match in - hw s was peo n t e y ver e wth se a agnuc e, iy dra’s hard to sincer e a ywa hior thtls. Str tg lleled n ture o eropes in Wa derqo or’der or exampleg s o rpr e coo ss teece aur f ce t ae dorely –en azy J and a at o bfce t e y wuiet and a let ucackp wa s e sase; twe adge nis utterly seamless, they even share a bathroom. Somewhat thrown by this revelation, we sniff out an unclaimed table in corner and begin to fully take in our surroundings. The first thing that strikes you is that the hrn vodcated on t e sh, v sited b t in hsh a f th siesd t ltlegh. This is NO UGLY DUCKLING The Swan FADE LASER STUDIO NO. 2 GRAFTON ST. DUBLIN T. 01 539 0777 | WWW.FADELASER.COM be repurposed for the overflow of demand.