Cork: The Black Pig Winebar

The Black Pig Winebar,

DESPITE Michael McDowell’s — surely you remember him? small glasses? big ego? — best efforts the wine bar’s place in the Irish consciousness is hardly secure. It awaits its parity of esteem moment.

Wine bars are up there with cricket, wild camping or acupuncture — entirely good, admirable, sometimes beautiful ideas but not that compulsive in a culture too often clumsy around organised feyness, a culture too awkward with such a delicate balance between lightness and satisfaction.