LINA ŽIGELYTĖ on the often fruitless search for decent coffee in Dublin
It is a gusty, damp evening in Dublin when I drop into one of those cafés belonging to a gargantuan chain owning thousands of coffee shops all over the world. They seem to be springing up around Dublin like weeds. But although everything mainstream and branded appears to be unwelcome nowadays, the place is packed – though I manage to find a spot to sit beside a grey-haired man browsing through a holiday catalogue.
I’m sipping one of the house’s special coffees, but it is neither special, nor really a coffee. Rather, it’s more like a coffee-flavoured drink, mixed with vanilla syrup and topped with over-steamed milk. I improve the cocktail with a pinch of nutmeg and a smidgen of chocolate. It was not cheap – I gave the girl at the register a fiver without her even bothering to tell me how much it was, and got a few coins back in change. I could get a meal for the price of this coffee in Lithuania. Yet probably not for long, as prices back home have been soaring as of late.
As I was strolling through the cobbled streets of Vilnius last September, I remember dropping into a spotless café owned by a Latvian coffee chain. I had an equivalent of over a euro in my purse, thinking I should be able to afford a coffee for that price in Lithuania. How naive I was! The cheapest drink on the menu was a Turkish coffee for about 2 euro. In fact, I couldn’t find a simple cup of coffee on the menu at all. Until that day, I had never paid for a coffee by credit card before – nor had I waited for a coffee and the bill for over 10 minutes.
But let’s go back to Dublin. The service here, thankfully, is much quicker, but just like in that café in Vilnius, I find it hard to get my hands on a cup of good coffee in this city. Not an Americano, not a double espresso and not a crème brûlée-flavored pseudo-coffee topped with whipped cream. If you’ve ever had coffee in France or Italy, you should understand me.
Better still, let’s go back to the beginning: why did I head to a café instead of a pub on this miserable evening? And who drinks coffee at this time of the day anyway, when the vast majority are sipping their pints? Have you ever tried to find a café in Dublin that is open till late? No wonder the consumption of alcohol in this country is disturbingly high. It looks like socialising without booze is simply mission impossible, apart from handful of exceptions.
There is a tea house in Temple Bar, which to my knowledge was founded by a Croatian guy, and is the only spot in the city offering more than a teapot with a selection of tea bags – an extensive range of mixed herbal teas is available instead. And there is one cozy coffee house that stays open till late, but the waitresses seem to be constantly struggling with their English. Oh, and there is this mainstream chain I’m hiding in, buzzing with heart-to-heart talks and good music – but alas, not quality coffee.
Opening a café might not sound like the most lucrative of businesses, but I’ve never seen this place empty. Even though they charge nearly a fiver for a mug of not-very-good coffee. On the other hand, it is quite a generous mug. Yet whenever I pass this place, I can’t help but think of Krakow and its numerous bohemian cafés, none yet acquired by the global mega brands, and all serving decent coffee. I admit having a few pints of Zywiec here and there, but sometimes one just needs a cup of good coffee.
