Tag Archives: Cork

Viva Cork

St PetersMarket
Too much to review

 

“Do you want a basket of chips, or something?”

(Bodega Bar, Corn Market Street, Cork. 1:28 p.m.)

Serving us well as it did last summer I’m back, alone, and sitting, waiting for a pint, listening to a blend of music and chatter. It is definitely more a place for the aspiring classes – accents on the verge of posh, and people’s demeanours suggesting similar. If I were to make comparisons with Budapest, The Bodega would be to the trendy pub what the Vicarstown* would be to the kocsmas. One difference I’d like to note is that in Ireland old and young blend better and in more locations, be they trendy or not; the super-pub pre-club atmosphere excepted, which is the same everywhere.

The Bodega, itself, is situated on Corn Market Street but the market itself, now face-lifted – probably from local government coffers – tells a tale that goes back hundreds of years. To Corkonians this area is the Coal Quay, pronounced Kay, or Coal Quay Market, alluding as much to a time when the river would come in as far as here. “The Venice of the North” or so some people say, referring to the many waterways which once riddled this city. They still do, mind you, but all beneath asphalt and concrete.

Set in an old stone building, the high ceilings and fine decoration of The Bodega’s interior may be off-putting but with a fine selection of food as well as drink one must remember that this is not just a pub – it’s a fine food establishment. With barbeques on weekends and a full smoking area this is definitely one of the gems. The walls abound with local artistic talent and though it may be above the pockets of the artistic equivalents in Budapest it is the class in which both countries’ artistic elite flourishes. The patrons come aplenty, but abegging, in the gutter!  I’ve sometimes accused Budapest and Hungary of artistic snobbery, but nevertheless it seems somewhat more affordable than hereabouts. Folk – now that’s a different story.

Sitting here, 1p.m. –ish, there is a healthy lunchtime crowd with 50% of the floor’s tables full. For a place with a reputation to higher prices this is quite good, and with the turnover lunchtime a steady flow this is no money losing enterprise. You’d hope!

Evenings and weekends do find this place brimming with revellers because it’s then that it forsakes its eatery for full-on pub/club potential. But again this is evening-till-late so come in afternoon time and you can have the best of both worlds. In the back there is a restaurant area which allows one to recline in the intimacy of an evening romantic meal, if that’s one’s wish.

On the whole a spacious environment full of the clatter and bang of a busy establishment. If I were to imagine a comparison I would say the coffee houses of Vienna and Budapest turn of the 20th century, but with the savoury and beer that gives it its Irish twist.

Lunch menu:

Potato and Leek soup 4.90 euro;

Beef and Mi Daza** stew 10.90euro;

Pan-fried sea bass, crushed baby potatoes, dill and butter 13.50 euro

[Beamish  4.10 euro]

http://www.bodegacork.ie/

*http://thehairyteacher.com/?p=733

**http://thecorknews.ie/articles/its-mi-daza-rave-reviews-bennys-stout-stew-6359

See link below for more on the meaning of ‘Mi Daza’ and other Irish slang words

http://grammar.yourdictionary.com/word-lists/funny-irish-words-and-phrases.html

The Holy Ground

A heritage pub
Just the one at one

 

“Two pints when you get the chance bud!”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

(The Vicarstown, North Main Street, Cork. 12:43 p.m.)

 

Stepping in off what is a busy vein leading down from the Northside of the city, one is first confronted by the authenticity of this bar.

It has kept much of the old feel, with the snug to the right on entering, the door-frame semi-intact, but left open to the rest of the pub. The bar beside it still holds true to form, the hatchway still extant to supply the snug-goers. The rest of the bar runs long, over a checkered, tiled floor into the darkness way back, before re-emerging into the light that is the beer garden. Since the smoking ban these have become all the rage and, though it may seem so run-of-the-mill in continental Europe, a beer garden is a selling point in these parts. Though the ban is now 8 years old the developments in its wake have brought Ireland outdoors in a way that the weather had never before permitted. On this Ireland hasn’t changed, grey skies and rain still running rife, but like the Dutch and their Dams the Irish and their awnings have overcome the force that is nature.

Just after midday on a Thursday there are a few customers pondering the mysteries while the sound of country and pop fills the aural atmosphere.

It’s my first pint home, a Beamish, and I’m not disappointed. So if in these parts, with a moment to spare, drop in here and relish the atmosphere that no bar, Irish bar that is, abroad could ever match. Its authenticity is that it IS real!

[Beamish: 3.90 euro]

Homesickness

Relax
Wherever I lay my...

 

Leaving Budapest for the summer, the buildings mock me. They stand resplendent in their morning veil as I glance back over my shoulder Buda-wards, not fearing to become a pillar of salt, merely to find hidden in the secrets of those spires and ornately tiled roofs, a sentiment, a love for this city.

Pest greets me as I cycle  through it, the hustle and bustle, the noise, the traffic, the bars.

I know it’s early but whoever came up with that silly notion of it being too early to have a beer! The postman crosses swords with the all-night reveller in a kocsma, both on dawn patrol.

Soon I’ll be home, to Ireland, my first home, but having made this a clear second, the other places in which I’ve resided shuffle for attention. They’ll get it in moments of reminiscence, but for now I must contend with the idea that for two months, while alleviating homesickness, I may also become homesick.

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