House Dublin

Just what Dublin needs - another Georgian townhouse conversion trying desperately to be everything to everyone. House Dublin sits there on Leeson Street, smugly certain of its own charm, and I'll admit (through gritted teeth) that it might actually have a point. Though whether that charm justifies the eye-watering prices is another matter entirely.

I approached my first visit with the weary resignation of someone who's seen too many wannabe upscale establishments crash and burn in spectacular fashion. The building itself, I'll grudgingly concede, is stunning - a masterclass in Georgian architecture that somehow manages to feel both grand and intimate. But beautiful bones don't make a venue, darling.

What does make a venue, as it turns out, is getting the basics surprisingly right. The moment I stepped inside, I was prepared to mock the inevitable pretension, but instead found myself disarmed by staff who seemed genuinely interested in making sure everyone had a good time. How inconvenient for my cynicism.

The restaurant space strikes that elusive balance between elegant and comfortable, though you'll certainly pay for the privilege of sitting in it. The menu, while not revolutionary, shows refreshing restraint - they've actually focused on doing fewer dishes well rather than attempting to be all things to all people (despite the venue's multiple personality disorder as hotel-restaurant-bar-event space).

Their steak and eggs at brunch (yes, I went back, don't judge me) is something of a revelation, though portion sizes can be inconsistent. The fish and chips, meanwhile, arrives in portions that would make an American blush - a rare case of Dublin generosity that almost makes you forget you're paying premium prices for what is, essentially, pub fare elevated to new heights.

The cocktail program deserves special mention, if only because it managed to surprise this jaded palate. Their signature drinks somehow avoid the common pitfall of being either boringly traditional or trying too hard to be innovative. The wine list is extensive, though be prepared for your wallet to feel considerably lighter after perusing it.

What truly sets House Dublin apart - and I can't believe I'm saying this - is its chameleon-like ability to transition through the day. Breakfast feels civilized without being stuffy, lunch can accommodate both business meetings and casual catch-ups, and dinner somehow manages to be both special occasion-worthy and comfortable. The space transforms from bright and airy during daylight hours to intimately lit and atmospheric as evening falls.

For families, they've done the impossible by creating a children's menu that doesn't insult the intelligence of either the kids or their parents. Though why you'd bring children to a place this expensive is between you and your financial advisor.

The outdoor seating area deserves mention - it's one of those rare Dublin spaces that feels like an actual destination rather than a hastily arranged collection of tables on a footpath. When the weather cooperates (approximately three days per year in Dublin), it's actually rather lovely.

Is it perfect? Of course not. The prices can make your eyes water, some dishes can be oversalted, and yes, occasionally things go wrong - like fire alarms testing your patience at ungodly hours if you're staying over. But here's the truly irritating part: even with its flaws, House Dublin has managed to become one of those places that's actually worth visiting.

For those keeping score at home, reservations are essential unless you enjoy the particular pleasure of being looked at pityingly by the host. There's paid street parking nearby, they take all major cards (how generous), and yes, they can accommodate vegetarians without making them feel like second-class citizens.

Look, I didn't want to like House Dublin. I really didn't. But somewhere between the impeccable service, the surprisingly good food, and the undeniable atmosphere, it won me over. And I hate when that happens. So go ahead, book a table, enjoy the experience - just don't tell them I sent you. I have a reputation to maintain.