It was a wild and windy night in Dublin and the hearty offering on the website of L Mulligan Grocer looked just the ticket. My guests hadn't had any lunch to speak of and so, when I called to say that I was running late, I could hear the sound of hands being eaten. We agreed that they would read the menu to me over the phone and order so that the food would arrive at the same time as me.
L Mulligan Grocer is a gastropub in Stoneybatter, located in what not so long ago was a regular boozer. The new owners – a craft beer nut, a whiskey aficionado and a foodie, according to the website – cleaned the place up, chucked out the telly and put in a kitchen. They acquired some books and board games and opened their doors in July.
There's some nice attention to detail. The reserved sign on our table was fashioned from Scrabble letters and there are egg timers for those who take their game-playing seriously. The waiters are friendly without being in your face and charming without being obsequious. In fact, they're amongst the best that any of us has encountered recently – and the fact that they are all young men in smart aprons who are noticeably easy on the eye doesn't hurt a bit.
The menu is concise and commendably forthcoming in terms of provenance, ticking all those important boxes in relation to local sourcing and seasonality. The beef is grass-fed and Irish, the pork, chicken and eggs free-range. Each dish comes with a suggested beer – rather than wine – to accompany it. As I write, I'm regretting that I didn't try any of them.
Our starters were generally good. The Potted Crab, Sourdough Soldiers (€6.50) was simple and delicious and the Organic Black Pudding (€5) from Fermanagh producer Pat O'Doherty came with a yummy pear relish rather than the more usual apple accompaniment. The Moules (€7.50) were fine and plump but the advertised chilli and cider didn't register on the palate – we had been hoping they would have had sinus-clearing properties.
With the mains, our fortunes were mixed. The 10oz Rib-Eye (€19.50) should have been introduced to a hotter pan and it disappointed. "It is," grumbled Fin, "as if it's been steamed rather than cooked on a griddle." The Béarnaise sauce that accompanied the meat was good though, as were the wilted spinach and crumbed onion rings. The twice-cooked fries were good. Black Pudding Stuffed Chicken Supreme (€15) came with red cabbage colcannon, buttered parsnips and O'Hara's red ale reduction and was a trencherman dinner – almost too much food – but Claire liked it very much, and the fact that it was made with good quality chicken brought a definite feelgood factor. Free-range Pork Belly (€15) was the best of the three, the meat unctuous and melting, with extra crackling for good arterial damage. It came with dulse mash (though the seaweed had no impact), buttered Savoy cabbage and a Sailor Jerry rum and balsamic vinegar reduction. It was a very good, substantial plate.
Although by any prudent standard it was a bridge too far, we pressed on to pudding. Twice Spiced Ginger Cake (€5) came with apple compote and pouring cream laced with Kilbeggan whiskey. It was terrific, rich and moist. Molly's Chocolate Stout Mousse (€5), presented attractively in a pretty vintage teacup with biscotti for scooping, was good too. An Irish Cheeseboard (€7.50) featured Cashel Blue, Killeen and the wondrous Mossfield Organic cheddar alongside "house-made" oat cakes.
Our bill for three – and that was three courses for three people – with one glass of wine each and a couple of coffees came to €111.50 before service. By the time we left, the place was full – the clientele a mix of trendy folk and civilians across a broad spectrum of ages. The three of us agreed we would return, maybe to linger over a long Sunday lunch and a game of Monopoly.
We really liked L Mulligan Grocer. On the basis of the food alone, this would have been a three-star review, but the service and ambience were exceptional enough to push it over the line to four – the owners are the kind of people you want to see succeed. I'd encourage you to try it and, if it's in your neighbourhood, I bet you'll become a regular.