One establishment (L. Mulligan Grocer) might have been mentioned in Ulysses, although partisans are not in agreement on the credit.
Before my latest visit, I made plans to grab a pint with a writer I met on Twitter. We agreed on the Stag’s Head, a classic 19th-century pub with a long marble bar, an abundance of dark carved wood and, as you might have guessed, a formidable specimen of taxidermy. Well, there’s no such thing as meeting up for one pint in Dublin. By the time my new friend and I said good night, we’d put in time at Odessa, a clubby cocktail bar across the way, and, hours later, closed down the discreet, charming Library Bar at the Central Hotel. In all, four days in early May took me to eight bars (hardly a record, but respectable) that ranged from longtime favorites like Grogan’s and Kehoe’s to a dream of a gastropub (how I wish there were a better word) that proved, again, Dublin’s ability to surprise.
On my first day in the city, I was walking down Dawson Street when I noticed the Celtic Whiskey Shop. It was still early, but a selection of Irish whiskeys — Writer’s Tears, Connemara and others — were already opened and ready for tasting. So I got to talking with the staff. When I asked where I should eat and drink that evening, one man instantly recommended a place I’d never heard of, L. Mulligan Grocer.
My dinner companion, a longtime Dubliner, had never heard of it, either. But L. Mulligan Grocer, which sits on Stoneybatter, a road that dates back to Dublin’s Viking days, has been quietly open for about two years. Pubs have been operating out of its location since the 18th century, and the place felt as if it hadn’t changed in years. It was lovingly cleaned and painted and wallpapered and varnished but not modernized beyond recognition.
The writer and guest seemed quite pleased with L. Mulligan Grocer's beverage choices and food.
L Mulligan Grocer
The Celtic Whiskey Shop has hours from 10.30am, with tastings to match
My kind of place