With the Celtic Tiger's tail twitching in its (hopefully) final death throes, the at times ugly face of Irish boom time has started giving way to something altogether prettier, especially as far as Dublin's restaurants are concerned. From joints with haute ambitions to a rash of funky, unusual cafes, there's a celebration of core Irishness, and far less of the brash naffness that rode in on that bloated old tiger.
Hatch & Sons may style itself "a traditional Irish kitchen", but it's an elegant one, in the light-filled Georgian basement of the endearing Little Museum of Dublin. (I forgive them the top floor dedicated to U2.) It's a looker: heritage colours, zinc-topped tables, central island heaving with cakes, jams and jellies and its claim to fame the blaa. This floury, pillow-soft, fat roll, originally from Waterford, is now afforded protected status by the EU. I remember them from childhood, stuffed with thick slabs of bacon. Here, they're more likely to come with Coolea cheese, onion relish and rapeseed mayo: the modernity. Or spiced beef, known to the Irish side of my family as Ralgex beef due to its, um, astringent spicing; it's calmer here, almost pastrami-lush.
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