Cork: Perry Street Market Café
I HAVE been in this building before, and harbour distant memories of an erstwhile, dusty-and-dim carpet showroom. I also vaguely recall a fruitless tramp over musty, secondhand furniture in another of its incarnations.
The haziest memories hark back decades, to when it hosted a scuzzy and stygian nightclub that drew a ragbag nocturnal assortment in search of a final drink or three, only after all other establishments had closed.
But time passes, things change, and stepping into the light, bright and exceedingly wholesome space that is Perry Street Market Café is a deeply cleansing and purgative experience, particularly if prior memories require outright exorcism.
It appears as if culinary magpies have cherry-picked choice elements from other operations the length and breadth of the land — and more power to their collective elbows.
Beginning with the transition from dark, poky side-street into soft, soothing creams and bright, uplifting whites, they have succeeded where others failed, turning a cumbersome space into a warm and welcoming room.
A scattering of ‘artisan’ goodies on the shelves indicates future plans for a deli/ shop, but a dedicated area for Rack & Loaf, a joint enterprise with local bakers, Hassett’s, is up and running, providing an array of breads, cakes and confectionary.
Menus are chalked up on blackboards: the in-vogue modern café/diner breakfast, part healthy, part hearty, (including de rigueur ‘porridge and compote’) is a far road from any greasy-spoon fry-up; but the daily, changing specials read as rustic, wholesome fare, the class of food the chef, Pamela Kelly, has always done exceptionally well.
A debt to the Avoca Café model continues; in one far corner there is a ‘wedding shop’; in the other, a flower shop.
This is where local-ladies-who-lunch would gladly pass their afterlife — providing they’re happy to queue. Despite battalions of pleasant young waitresses ferrying orders to the table, you queue first, to order and pre-pay.
‘Number one son’ plumps for the comfort of eggs Benedict, hefty poached eggs slathered in Hollandaise sauce, spilling rich, yellow yoke onto thick bacon.
But while a board claims the in-house bread to be ‘probably the best in Cork’, the dish is crying out for a hefty hunk of decent, grilled sourdough instead of the presented, bland, soft white pan.
‘Daddy’s little girl’ has a sweet-potato salad with pumpkin seed and rocket, but too many hours in the chilled display unit leave the star ingredient overly cold and stodgy, with flavour surrendered to the permafrost.
My chicken, mushroom and ham pie is sterling stuff, the perfect tonic for post-Christmas blues on a miserable afternoon, creamy chicken and mushroom with deep, smoky notes from the ham, all topped with a lovely, crisp, crumbling puff-pastry lid.
Eyes closed in ecstasy, I pine for a decent accompanying sup, instead making do with an anaemic Vin du France from a token wine list.
We fancy something sweet and I return to the counter once more, ordering coffee, a chocolate éclair and a jam shortbread biscuit.
That’s €8.75, says the very nice girl at the till.
I proffer my debit card, muttering about a second bank charge for one meal.
Sorry, we have a €10 minimum for cards.
But I’ve just spent €30-plus, ten minutes ago.
She puts it through, giving me change from a tenner.
If I weren’t reviewing, I’d have cancelled the order — hardly in the restaurant’s best interest — and that they are utterly ordinary confections does nothing to soothe the grumbling beast within.
Still, that’s just one irritable molar amongst the otherwise minor teething troubles of a new establishment set to prosper into the future.
And all those stale memories of yore are well and truly exorcised.
Total including 1 glass wine, 1 San Pellegrino, 1 coffee – €38.25
Mon-Sat, 8am-6pm; Sun, 11am-5pm
Food: 6½/10
Ambience: 8/10
Wine list: 4/10
Service: 7½/10
