I slept in a little longer than usual this morning, after staying up watching some TV. Last night, there was a noisy group of young people on Crow Street directly below my living room windows. The Foggy Dew pub actually runs through the ground floor of my building and has a back door that opens up to Crow Street… perhaps it opened in protest? The noise finally died down around midnight. I can only imagine what it would be like living in Temple Bar under normal circumstances.
It’s the penultimate day before the Level 5 “stay at home” restrictions go into effect. The weather is slightly better, warmer (around 60 F high) with clearer skies and only the occasional mist of rain, although it’s windy. I choose a button up short-sleeve shirt with a hoodie that seems the right amount of layers to me. There are a few more things for the kitchen I’d like to get from stores before they are shuttered, so I head north over the Ha’penny Bridge toward the shopping district around Mary Street.
View of Ha’penny bridge from the Millennium Bridge just to the west up the Liffey (I had originally started out on that bridge before realising I had left my wallet at home and had to backtrack):
A selfie showing off my haircut from yesterday:
Dublin has a noticeable homeless population, although nothing like San Francisco. Often a panhandler is sitting on the Ha’penney bridge, arms wrapped around their legs while holding out a cup. I usually pass them by, but I have a 50 cent piece in my pocket so dig that out and give it to the man who’s there today. He’s probably in his 20s and sounds native Irish when he says thanks. My impression is that the public is fairly sympathetic to the destitute in general, and panhandlers don’t seem to be aggressive. I haven’t seen anyone on the streets exhibiting erratic behavior or showing signs of serious mental illness. Perhaps the city has better services for the mentally ill? Or maybe the government doesn’t tolerate behavior that would be bad for tourism and they remove anyone acting too weird?
Dublin also seems to be a relatively clean city. Street sweepers are in operation on what seems to be a daily basis, at least around the Temple Bar area. There are trash bins scattered throughout the city, and the older ones are adorned with Dublin’s “three castle” coat of arms. You’ll see the typical urban stickers affixed here and there, street art on some exposed sides of buildings, and some graffiti tags but not as much as other European cities I’ve visited.
On the other side of the Liffey, I pass by the Woolen Mills restaurant and on a whim decide to have lunch there before shopping. It couldn’t have a better location situated immediately after the Ha’penny Bridge, and I’ve never stopped there because it always seems too busy. Today the outdoor seating area isn’t completely full, and given the impending shut down, it seems there’s no better time than the present.
View looking back at the bridge with the Merchant Arch entrance to Temple Bar and towering Central Plaza development in the background:
I’m expecting to be seated on the street level patio, but the hostess says there is space on the rooftop terrace. She leads me up the two flights of winding stairs past empty dining rooms that normally would be filled with tourists. There are a couple of other tables occupied on the terrace, one with two middle aged women and two others with couples of younger men/women sitting across from each other. The menu is small, listing only a few sandwiches, salads and soups, but it’s reasonably priced for a full-service sit-down restaurant. I laugh when seeing Anchor Steam from San Francisco on the beer list. It’s been one of my go-to beers in recent years, but I don’t think of it worthy of being exported… and certainly not worth €6.95.
I order an Irish-produced plum-ginger cider to drink and the turkey sandwich with salad as the side option. This actually includes tasting portions of three different kinds of salads, none of which have any leafy greens but rather root vegetables such as beets, potatoes, celeriac (celery root), etc. It’s a very relaxing and pleasant lunch, well worth the indulgence. No one brings the check, so I head downstairs and pay at the front hostess station; it comes to around €20.
Over the last three weeks since my arrival, my meals have been mostly pre-prepared dishes from SuperValu. It’s time to start cooking for real now and eating a little healthier. Earlier in the day as I was starting my grocery delivery order for the week, I browsed through the vegetables for inspiration. Mushrooms, leeks, cauliflower… I have a tried-and-true soup recipe that would be easy to make from those! The only hitch is that it’s a blended soup, and that’s my impetus for seeking out more kitchen gadgetry — in particular, a hand blender.
By now I have a fairly good feel for the stores in the city and what they have to offer, but there’s one I haven’t visited yet: Arnotts. Arnotts is the oldest and largest department store in Ireland, founded in 1843 at the flagship location to which I am now headed just a couple of blocks away. The kitchen and housewares department is on the lower level, and as soon as I descend the escalator I know I’ve come to the right place. An expansive, brightly lit hall of kitchenware, gadgetry, dishes, and appliances opens up before me. I would say it’s a step up from Macy’s, more on the level of Nordstroms or maybe even Bloomingdales in terms of quality but not quite as excessively priced. I stick to my list, for the most part, and am thrilled to find a 3-in-1 Braun hand blender that in addition to its primary blending capabilities comes with a whisk and mini food chopper as attachments. It’s not the same as the KitchenAid mixer I had in SF, but it’s a very functional alternative for apartment living in Dublin. A couple of extra items manage to make it into my basket… such as a Good Grips spatula and some Bodum shatterproof coupe glasses (but…they were on sale!).
After Arnotts, I exit on Marys Street where the blustery winds spin the large shopping bag to and fro. I wrap the strings tighter around my hand so it’s less unruly. I decide to pop into Marks & Spencer, a large British retailer that is also known for its “Food Halls” with upscale grocery items. There I find another sought-out item: paneer cheese! As in the UK, there is lots of Indian food here, and grocery stores offer a range of cook-at-home dishes such as chicken korma, tikka masala, curries, and even naan. However, I had not seen any pre-made saag paneer anywhere, and I have a recipe I loved to make in SF to accompany other meaty/saucy Indian dishes, so I’m looking forward to making it here.
I head back to the apartment to drop off the spoils of my shopping conquests and take a quick nap before a Zoom session at 4:00 with my therapist back in SF. This evening I have plans to meet up with C, a guy I’ve chatted with online during past visits here but whom I’ve never met in person. He had wanted to meet up over a few pints, but since all the “wet” pubs not serving any food are closed and outdoor seating is in high demand in general, I suggested an Irish burger place called Bobos on the corner of Dame and Crow Streets, just a few steps away from my door. I had stopped by there earlier in the day on the way out to shopping to reserve a table for 2 at 8:00pm. It has outdoor seating with wind shields and heaters, which makes for a cozy space despite the cooler windy weather.
C texts me when he’s on his way, and it only takes me a couple of minutes before I’m standing out in front of Bobos. C arrives shortly thereafter. He’s a full head shorter than I am, which I expected, but his big personality makes up for his short stature. I check in with the young hostess/waitress, Shannon, who was the same person who had taken down the reservation earlier in the day. A table opens up in a few minutes. We’re seated directly under a heater as well as a speaker playing pop/rock music loudly, which makes it difficult at times to understand C given my bad ear and ongoing struggle to decipher Irish accents. He’s not hungry and only orders fries, but he clearly enjoys beer and orders multiple rounds at once. The menu offers an impressive selection of different styles of burgers, and I feel my age when having to squint under the low light to read through them all. I finally settle on one called “The Emancipator.” Surprisingly, they don’t ask how I’d like it cooked… something I’ve noticed at other burger places here. It turns out to be quite good with that same flavourful Irish beef that I’ve come to enjoy. Our conversation meanders through various subjects but the biggest topic is of course COVID and the impending shutdown. Being a very social and outgoing person, C is fed up with the restrictions and clearly doesn’t intend to follow them strictly — he has brothers and sisters in the area who he says he’ll continue to visit regardless of what the government says. At around 9, C asks Shannon when the last round will be served, which apparently is at 9:30 when the kitchen closes, so he puts in an order for another 2 pints each. It’s probably the last night out for awhile, so why not? We end up staying until close, a little past 10:00, when the staff start taking in the other tables and chairs. We finally take the hint that it’s time to go when another waitress asks if we’d like plastic to-go cups for the remainder of our beer, which seems like a polite offer but is really a thinly disguised ultimatum. I try to pay the check when C goes to the restroom (always referred to as the toilet here), but he returns just as I’m taking out my wallet and intervenes, insisting that he pay. There’s no arguing with Irish hospitality. We bid each other good night, C grabs a taxi and thankfully Sprangers Yard is literally just around the corner me.
