Assassination Custard

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Firstly, Happy 2017.

Secondly, I would like to apologize for not having gone to and written about Assassination Custard until now. My lack of knowledge about what might be the cutest, most intensely delicious lunch spot in Dublin shocks me. The good news is I’ve found it.

My aunt always told me I would meet some of my best friends through my children. It’s too soon to say whether I have met any new best friends, but a few new mothers in my local breastfeeding group mentioned Assassination Custard  to me and so that bodes well. These women know a good thing when they eat it. I didn’t go to Assassination Custard when it was first recommended, however. I thought I had more important things to do. I was wrong. An American friend was the one who finally made it happen for me last week.

The Little Café, as the sign on the road reads, is on a very busy, very unattractive bustling intersection in Dublin 8. Just behind St. Patricks, sandwiched between Camden Street and Clanbrassil, buses whizz by, taxis honk horns, bikers flock, and I never would stop to take in my surroundings or notice this little place. Well, I’ve learned my lesson. This little café packs a HUGE punch.

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Run by friendly, welcoming husband and wife team Ken and Gwen (I mean . . . ), it opens at 12 five days a week. It can seat a maximum, like, really maximum of twelve people at any given time. There were six when I was there and it felt tight. There are two tables, mis-matched chairs and the kitchen takes up half of the space. It’s divided from the eating area buy a coffee bar. It’s not open weekends. They do private dinners if requested. I shall be requesting.

The menu changes daily based on what Ken, the chef, has found at markets, what’s in season and what he feels like making. There were about eight items on the menu, none over eight euro. The choices were mostly vegetarian and and flavours traveled from the Middle East to India. We had homemade pickles, radicchio salad with lablah, a beet salad-type dish that was actually more of a stew (a crunchy stew?) with chickpea fritters. The latte’s we ordered to go with it all were yummy, the food was spicy , sweet, tangy, comforting and an all around revelation. HOW did I not know this was there?

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Assassination Custard

George’s Street Market Arcade

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“Let’s meet at Simon’s” my friend’s text reads.

“Where?” I think, so I type that back.

“You know, the place that smells like cinnamon buns on George’s Street. The Arcade.”

Yes. It DOES smell like cinnamon buns. In fact, Simon’s makes the whole upper half of George’s Market Arcade smell like cinnamon buns. Delicious.

The Arcade is one of those places–pass-through, walkway, connecting tunnel–that I have come to take totally for granted. So much so that I didn’t even know that Simons was called Simons. I walk through it many times a week but don’t really take stock of the building or what it contains.

The other day I came out of a bar across the road from it and looked up. I had to snap a photo, it just looked so good sitting across the road. It is a stunning building. It sits squarely on one whole city block, and the middle of it is a market.

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There are offices upstairs, a cavernous bar around one side, a super market around the other with two music stores, and a fancy restaurant. There is also a chinese restaurant, a fast food Peking Duck place, a bike repair shop and a new health food store. You can get your haircut on both the west and east corners. That’s just what is along the outside!

Inside is an eclectic mix of vintage flannel, Irish wool, Italian Olives, homemade fudge, Chinese reflexology goods, bubble tea, frozen yogurt and jewelers. You can have your tarot cards read as you nibble a tiny cupcake or buy something clever and useful but very attractive for your home. You can also find a lot of crap. All of this within 100 yards!

I forgot to mention that you can also buy an old fashioned portion of fish and chips.

It is populated mostly with tourists poking around, students doing the frozen yogurt and bubble tea thing, or Dubliners just trying to get quickly from George’s Street to Drury Street and onwards.

There is a stall that sells old books and hanging off one of the walls is a photo of the Arcade in the 50s. There were no stalls down the middle, only shops along either side. It appears so much larger than it does now. Cars were allowed to be driven through it! It looks very elegant with the ladies in tailored wool coats walking along as the sun slants through the roof.

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George’s Street Arcade is one of those magic Dublin places where you can find just about anything you ever (or never) wanted.

George’s Street Market Arcade