On the southside of Victoria Quay, customers in this cosy hideaway can pick from a menu of fast-food classics, cooked up about a foot and a half away from where they sit.
Lauren Redmond ditched journalism to make gooey sweet vegan cakes – caramels, sponges, and buns.
Bottles in the post to retirees of some distilleries have fed rumours of pensions paid in the golden stuff. There’s some history behind the myth.
“Batter man or something. I don’t know what they call me.”
Tequeños are similar to cheese sticks. Luis Jorquera and Saul Rondon are experimenting with some extra heat, too.
“What do you want?” he asks. “Full pig, full sheep, full chicken, smoked ribs?”
Romica Stingaciu stands for a few moments in the doorway of his bakery in Coolmine Industrial Estate and breathes in the cold damp air before stepping back inside, into a muggy atmosphere of rising dough and preheated ovens.
Methods of serving periwinkles have changed over time. Traditionally, though, they are boiled in seawater and the fleshy meat is pulled out with a pin.
The menu at the The Electric Vegan is a little different to the fare found in other vegan restaurants. You won’t find any soy, carrots, broccoli, or refined sugar here.
Apart from baos, Nikki Wong also makes matcha cookies, and tapioca-coconut “chews”.
Once the last of his customers have left, Cristian Proca closes his Stoneybatter chipper and steps into the kitchen to work on his gelato.
In Dublin restaurants, Chinese food is usually delicate, seafood-based Cantonese or tingling hot Sichuan. Dongbei cuisine is salty, hearty, and sour.
“We mix flavours,” says Carlos Sakai. Guests can go from the more traditional salmon nigiri to rolls with avocado. Or, they can opt for dessert rolls with fruits and Nutella.
Morocco Gate Restaurant will have tagines and couscous, of course. But there will also be chips with ras el hanout – a North African spice blend – and other unusual dishes.
“I grew up thinking chocolate was just one flavour, one experience,” says Simran Sethi, ahead of her public lecture on the subject on 14 May. “Then you start to see.”
These Irish-Polish pierogi include a sauerkraut-and-wild-mushrooms version, garnished with glazed aubergine with rosemary, balsamic vinegar, and maple syrup.
His all-you-can-eat meet-up is a chance for many in Dublin’s Spanish community to get a taste of home.
George Stamopoulos points to the meat, rotating on spits behind him. This is gyros, he announces, as if introducing an old friend.
Customers come to Brendan’s Café from the early houses, from the flats, and from the nearby fruit and veg market for the breakfast. Inside, very little has changed since the place opened in 1985.
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