Bread is to be broken. The nature of that bread is the issue.

“I’ve found over the years that this space can repay the patient tippler with singular pleasures.”

This is straight down the line Korean cooking (with some needless nods to Japan).

Despite the name, this is the least precious cocktail bar you’ve never been to.

Too good to be regarded as merely a neighbourhood spot, and perhaps too good for Monkstown: this place deserves a postcode.

A pleasant way to make yourself poorer and moderately less hungry in sumptuous surroundings.

Nine Below is an actual thing and it takes them two days to accept my booking.

As you might expect, the service is warm and the welcome genuine. I’m tempted to comment that this may be the most hospitable restaurant in the city.

With the opening of Lucky’s we (you know who you are) now have an unassailable triumvirate of fuck-off places in which to wet our whistles.

It’s for special. Wear some adult shoes and run a comb through your hair. 

Rather than squatting amidst  the debris of your ineluctably broken resolutions you might consider pulling yourself together and availing of some soul-bolstering cheap eats in an Asian supermarket.

The best looking steakhouse in town but not quite the best steakhouse just yet.

An immersive introduction to the noble rice wine that remains little understood to most westerners.

This is unfussy cooking, considered, seasonal, ingredient-driven and marked by confident flavour combinations.

A place where memories are created and subsequently redacted, on a nightly basis.

There really is something for everyone here, from cocktails and milkshakes to hot white wine (!) and beyond.

Good dumplings are encapsulations of joy and the short menu of modern dim sum features a couple of beauts as it pings between China, Japan and Korea.

The room is grand in the actual sense of the word and what you would expect on the first floor of an eighteenth century townhouse that was lavishly restored some years ago.