The Hawaiian classic has been brought to Ireland by Niall Sabongi, who we know from his ground-breaking crab shack – the original Klaw – in Temple Bar.
Free egg soup.
Now, who doesn’t want a free bowl of egg soup?
That’s what the Brothers Dosirak offer, at their little shebeen of an eating house, up a walkway beside the meat and fish counters at the side of the Super Asia Foods supermarket, near the River Liffey end of Capel Street.
The brothers are cult. Maybe even beyond cult. Our Dublin friends who know everything about everything know this little eating place, whilst even people who work in this zone have never heard of it.
There has always been a philosophical strain amongst the best winemakers. Something about the metamorphosis of grapes in a vineyard into sublime alcohol in the bottle invites speculation about our place and our role in the universe.
Whenever we are enjoying the Italian wines which Enrico Fantasia discovers on his travels through Italy, and which he imports through his company, Grape Circus, we find ourselves thinking as much about the philosophy of the winemakers he chooses, as about the grapes they select or their attitude towards sulphites.
Everyone loves Caryna Camerino’s cakes.
Especially the raspberry cheesecake brownies. And the filligree cupcakes. And the lemon drizzle.
But here’s a surprising thing about Ms Camerino’s bakery and cakery, on Dublin’s Capel Street: they make a demon bowl of porridge.
The porridge, in fact, is made and finished as if it is a cake. The proportions are perfectly judged, and the fruit is arranged on top with the exactitude and precision of a patissier, then finishd with a drizzle of honey. It’s superb.
The Goat’s Cheese is a cookery book collected and collated from the chefs and food lovers of Skerries, by three local friends: Fergus Gannon, Danny Ward, and Pete Radzwion.
And if these three amigos don’t win several book awards for their outstanding production, there there is no justice in this foodie world.
The thing about good cooks is that they are always on the path to becoming better cooks. Look at Ross Lewis, of Dublin’s Chapter One. Or David Hurley, of Gregans Castle. Or John Wyer of Forest Avenue. Each time you eat their food, you can see the lessons learnt, the progressions made.
Mark Jennings, of Pilgrim’s restaurant in Roscarbery, West Cork, is one of those guys. When he opened up shop in the square in Roscarbery, two and a bit years ago, Mr Jennings was a good cook. He had the chops. He impressed you straight away.
Time was, if you wanted to be a baker, you went to Paris. Then, thirty years ago, the axis shifted. You want to be a baker? San Francisco became your destination. Home of ACME bakery, of Chad Robertson’s Tartine, of Craftsman and Wolves, of B. Patisserie, home of San Francisco sourdough. When Paul Bertolli wrote “Chez Panisse Cooking”, way back in 1988, the book included lengthy recipes on how to make pain au levain, and spontaneously leavened sourdough bread. Thirty years ago, the guys in San Francisco had already taken on the mantle. They defined the cutting-edge.
What’s more important to you in a restaurant: cutting-edge, or comfort?
In the media, it’s no contest: cutting-edge wins out, everytime. Reviewers never stress the comfort of a room, or its cooking. We write about the guys who move fast, and break things, and who ask you to sit on an orange crate while they are at it.
“Are you always, like, this busy?” we asked the waitress in Strandfield.
“Mother’s Day? The queue was right back to this door,” she replied, pointing to the double doors that form the entrance to the restaurant from the shop and flower shop.
We were sitting near to that door, which meant a 50-yard Mother’s Day queue for food at Strandfield.
We’re not surprised. Strandfield is ace. Hannah Byrne’s inspired concept is smart, functional, blessed with incredibly fine staff, and it’s in the right place: a 2-minute detour off the M1, and right in between Dundalk and Newry.
Toby Simmonds was a 20 year old working on building sites in Germany when the late Alan Dare of the Organico Café in Bantry asked him to see if he could find some good olives. Toby went digging and found Jean Pierre Huber, a German olive supplier with whom he has been trading continuously since he opened The Real Olive Company stall in the English Market in 1993. Back then most Cork people didn’t know was an olive was and more than one aul wan stopped to ask him “what class of a grape” he was selling.
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