Dublin has a burgeoning cafe scene, with enough choice for anyone to find somewhere to feel at home in, and after all, what is a cafebut home with someone else making the sandwiches? Other than your ma. From the bohemian chic of Cafe Irie and Gruel, to the commercialism and luxury(-ish) of Starbucks and Butlers Chocolate Cafe, the full spectrum of Dublin’s cafes are united by one central characteristic: they are all cripplingly expensive.
Anyway, for all you lovely people with more money than sense here’s Jackdaw Fool’s guide to Dublin’s cafes.
Starbucks, Collage Green. Ok, so Starbucks is an easy target, and we here in Jackdaw Fool are nothing if not lazy, but to be honest far worse than any of the horrible misdemeanours in Starbucks past are their customers. You know, I wouldn’t normally come in here, their record of human rights abuses is East Siam is disgusting, but I’ll have Grande Soya-milk mintchocofrappiechinotte with no cream and cinnamon sprinkles. You capitalist pig. Now whilst I’m all for people having a social conscience, if you’ve decided somewhere is reprehensible enough to fucking engage me in conversation about it then you ought to be firebombing the place sooner than you frequent it. You twat, twat, twat.
Joy of Coffee, Temple Bar. Full of people chatting the same shit as the assholes in Starbucks but wishing they had the money to afford Starbucks. Oh, and there’s a mentally ill guy in there most of the time. Avoid him. He has long white hair, is called Paul and eats children.
CocoBusyfeet Cafe, South William Street. The very best bacon and brie sandwich in Ireland is to be found in Busyfeet, crispy streaky bacon, big slabs of brie, sundried tomato paste and rocket all in delicious fresh bread. But the coffees tastes like its been put through the machine twice. So only get the (expensive) sandwich. Not the (expensive) coffee.
Cafe des Amis, Kildare Street. The best coffee in Dublin, in our humble (misguided) opinion. But, I hear you cry, it’s full of French people! And whilst that is obviously a downside most of the time, here it is an advantage- it is due to their pickiness that their coffee tastes like it was strained through Jesus’s vagina- or in other words, the best Goddamn coffee in the whole World, in Dublin. They do a nice sambo too, but avoid the pate- it tastes like processed crap.
Cafe Irie, Temple Bar. Horrible tasteless food served by people who look like the victims of serious sexual assault.
Cornucopia, Wicklow Street. The same as Irie, but with a fat fug of farts and smug, a particular mix that can only be caused by vegetarian food. And not nice vegetarian food, but that horrible ‘we cleanse ourselves by how disgusting our food is’ vegetarian food. Insufferably smug. If you know anyone who is a regular there, tell them they are a shitbag and never talk to them again, it’ll save you a lot of time and fury. The waitresses have the same haunted look in their eyes as Cafe Irie’s, and they flinch when you stroke them.
Delish, Wicklow Street. Huzzah! Hilariously cheap mash and beans €1.50? Thank you very much. Chump. But their pies are over priced and bought in from the taste of them. So mash and beans to go please.
Gruel, Dame Street. Over priced and populated with tossers I’d cross a river of fire and piss to avoid, but they do a very decent Roast in a Roll, even if they are a little heavy handed with the horseradish on occasion. It’s almost good enough to make me like the place. But I don’t.
Cafe Kylemore, all over Dublin. Now you might, from reading the above, be of the opinion that I don’t like the establishments mentioned, but compared to this stinking pile of offal they are like paradise. In them 72 virgins sew your twisted broken bodies back together and feed you manna and oral sex. This chain of cafes have to be the worst, foulest places intentionally constructed since that mad fucker in Austria built his sex dungeon in the garage. Imagine all the worst bits of a motorway stop cafe in Britain, now add vast prices, food cooked at least 3 days ago and staff that cannot speak English. And 400 skangers, who inexplicably have the cash to fart in the place (€2.50).