Okay, okay, okay
Not done this for a while
I might be rusty
Ah feck it, I mean Daddy’s – your friendly neighbourhood food snug. Serving up good coffee, boujee pantry fillers and turning childhood favourites such as Egg Salad butties into a ‘slap-my-thigh’ highlight moment of your week with quality, local produce and some executional know-how.
I recently moved to Dublin 8, a mere saunters (the extra ‘s’ is intentional) away from Daddy’s and was delighted to find myself footloose and fancy-free one Saturday morning. The weather was the equivalent of a non-committal shrug; barely there rain that impressively soaks you through if not taken seriously. Raincoats were donned and off we went in search of the type of treats that were too regular to really be a treat, and that will inevitably result in us never being able to afford a mortgage.
A quick 25 minute power walk later, we were beckoned into Daddy’s by friendly faces and Janet Jackson’s ‘Together Again’.
“There is never an occasion where someone isn’t happy to hear this song,’ I say knowingly to my other half, who was too busy inspecting the nut butters to indulge my philosophy.
Beverages ordered (with the fancy, weekend milk – don’t make me say it), and two Croissandwich’s. We only ever order the same where we know we’ll silently begrudge having to give the other half because of how spectacular it is. Saturday’s are not for bickering or silent treatments.
This is typically where I’d insert pictures to set the scene, however the corporate junkies at wordpress are telling me I’ve reached my media limit and if I want to add visual cues then I gots to pay an additional premium to what I already pay annually. The man already gets enough from me – so instead I’ll put all photos in a gallery post on IG here:
Unless you’re double vaccinated, eating indoors is still something of a privilege in Dublin. Which I fully support, however it does leave me half outta luck, with my next vaccine not due for another few weeks. But so long as there’s a bus stop with a seat nearby or a safe stretch of curb, I’ve got everything I need to enjoy a brunch al fresco.
The Croissandwich is awe-inspiring. A slippery, sunshine-yolk egg, so delicate it bursts just looking at it; wet, salty bacon, an abundance of cheese all stuffed into a sweet croissant. Not architecturally sound at all – but what on earth are you ordering a croissant sandwich for if not to get ridiculously filthy and have a 10/10 time whilst doing it?
We ate in hot, hurried bites – savouring whilst simultaneously unable to tear ourselves away from giving the nutty, cheesy, truffley flavours our entire, undivided attention. A satisfactory sigh of relief when we both finished – delighted with ourselves to have treated ourselves so well, so early into the weekend – what a standard to set.
Props to the lady who unknowingly put the cherry on top of our experience, by playing Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again” loud enough for us to enjoy, as she waited for the bus; the pairing we didn’t know we needed, but absolutely relished. Sorry to bemuse you as I whispered “thank you” when we gathered ourselves up to set off for a morning of millennial tasks and unnecessary purchases.
Daddy’s, thank you for creating something so wonderful that it made me want to write again. Love you and your sensational and bob-inducing playlists.