Skinflint has spark

JOE MACKEN doesn’t wear a suit.

He doesn’t run conventional eateries, and you won’t find him lobbying for Michelin Stars or AA rosettes. Right now, however, it’s probably no exaggeration to say that he’s the hottest property on the Dublin restaurant scene.

Every time I walk into Crackbird, Jo’Burger or Skinflint, the three lo-fi eateries Macken manages around the capital, he seems to be there. Taking orders, serving beers or grabbing a bite, you can’t miss the greying hair tied back in a ponytail, the skinny jeans and the hint of swagger amidst the constant procession, not so much of hip young customers, as Jo’Groupies.

Macken’s creations are concepts as much as restaurants.

Think of Jo’Burger, with its gourmet burgers and menus taped into Beano annuals. Or Crackbird, the pop-up pioneer with a fetish for fried chicken.

They’re exactly the kind of funky, bo-ho joints you’ll find down every alleyway in East Berlin, but thanks to the crazy commercial lease and rental landscape in Dublin, have remained a novelty in the capital.

The new kid on the block is Skinflint, which opened late last year at the Crane Lane premises in which Crackbird caused such a stir! This oily, cobbled street, a stone’s throw from the Olympia Theatre, is a tentacle of Temple Bar that few tourists mosey into.

Skinflint’s shtick is pizza, plain and simple. Simplicity is easier said than done, though. In 2012, it remains easier to find a bad pizza than a good one in Dublin, and at first glance, the short menu appears to over-egg its creations. Plain margarita and bianco aside, choices are named after staff members’ mums, ranging from the Sadie (roast garlic confit, toasted hazelnuts, tomato and fontina) to the Tess (pulled pork, fennel seeds, braised fennel and mascarpone).

The most expensive pizza costs €13, and the waitress informs us — myself, NC and SOD — that although we can add sauces, toppings and rocket if we like, we’re better off eating them as they are designed (“omissions always, substitutions never” as the menu asserts).

Our orders arrive on wooden boards, 18 inches long at a guess, and six inches wide. The waitress cuts them into strips with a Mezzaluna, and we’re left to our own devices. The bases, the first and most difficult thing to get right in a pizza, are brilliant. Thin, crispy, firm enough to hold without flopping all over the shop, and dusted with seasoning, they’re a super starting point.

The cheese and tomato layers pass muster too. I order the Vonie (harissa, hen’s egg, Serrano and mozzarella) and milky drips of cheese run down my fingers as I bite. The Serrano ham is waxy and red, generously layered along the full length of the pizza. The harissa is the only element I don’t like — not because of the chilli, but because the cloying mix overpowers everything else.

Meanwhile, NC is delighted with a very tasty Sadie and SOD devours his Gráinne (sweet bacon, celeriac, tomato, mozzarella, pecorino). Our sides — a very runny brandy chicken paté (€6.95) and beetroot caviar (€4.24) are less successful, and largely get left behind.

In addition to its pizzas, Skinflint does meatballs as a special, and its lunch menu includes a one-pot wonder, soup and salad. In keeping with the pared-down concept, we’re offered one dessert — lemon posset served in a glass with crumbled biscuit on top. It’s tangy and creamy, growing heavier as we spoon through. Coffee is served either filtered (99c, in an enamel mug) or espresso (€2.50), and two stubby 33ml cans of Heineken cost €3.75 a pop.

Despite the studenty details (napkins in brown paper bags, graffiti on stools, and staff that look like they just got out of bed) there’s enough creativity in Skinflint to make it feel fresh. Shared tables are made from reclaimed doors, 25kg sacks of Odlum’s flour are stacked against the wall, and beautiful wire-framed light fittings hang low enough to see the zigzagging filaments glowing inside.

Service is friendly, the crowd is both hip and happy, and wine is served by the glass from €4.50. If you’re on Twitter, check out @SkinflintDUBLIN and the #tweetseats hashtag — there’s a daily lottery for free meals. Once again, Joe Macken is bang on the money.