When you find yourself down a narrow alley and there’s a small cafe peeking out, you poke your head inside to get the vibe. It looks just right for lunch - bright, cozy with a table waiting for an occupant. Since I am feeling “peckish” as the Irish say, I wander in to get away from the mass of tourists along the main streets.
The host seats me and mentions that lunch service is not quite ready - the sign on the outside says lunch starts at noon, and it is after twelve. The charm of the place overtakes my hungry stomach. I agree to wait. Many people are finishing their late breakfasts and enjoying leisurely conversations.
Five minutes later a male wait staffer walks over and tells me the same thing and offers me water while I wait. The space is decorated in art nouveau with floppy pillows in lime greens and orange hues on the wooden seats. Lots of flowers in vases decorate tables and sideboards, and heavy drapes hang to cover wall imperfections.
Five minutes later I catch his eye and ask for a menu. I busy myself going through the choices from goat cheese and beet salad to chicken curry. Nothing is standing out except I do like the natural drink choices. When the waiter returns, and I select an elderflower organic drink, he shyly exclaims that the are out. Then he apologetically states that there are no sandwiches available today. I asked if there are specials, but he said that the menu hasn’t been printed and he doesn’t know offhand what they might be. He would check and return.
Five minutes. Ten minutes. I am practicing deep breathing and absorbing my environs.
I notice the waiter looking over at my table and making a u turn to the kitchen like he is reminded of his original task. He does have other tables finishing breakfast, and noon is a little early for lunch I am assuming causing the problem.
Finally, the waiter appears with a printed special menu and there is a leek tart -quiche- and that is what I select. When it comes out in a normal amount of time, it is delicious and moist with a homemade crust. The salad greens are a good compliment,too, especially the pickled cucumbers and warm mushrooms.
Folks are relaxed in Ireland. Schedules are only suggestions, and life moves on without watching the clock.
When I left, I was full, contented and I don’t know what all my rush could have been about. I won’t write a Trip Advisor review. The name of the restaurant will remain secret, and so will the town. This could have been an off-day, or I wasn’t respecting the Irish style of timelessness.