P. McCormack and Sons

Just what Dublin needs - another pub masquerading as a gastropub. P. McCormack and Sons sits there in all its traditional Irish glory, practically daring you to find fault with its carefully cultivated charm. And believe me, I tried.

I'll admit, I walked into P. McCormack and Sons with my critic's pencil sharpened, ready to skewer another middling Dublin establishment trying to serve above its station. The nerve of them, offering both proper pub atmosphere and allegedly decent food. Pick a lane, folks.

But here's where my carefully constructed wall of cynicism began to crack. The space manages to pull off that elusive balance between cozy pub and legitimate dining destination without feeling like it's trying too hard - and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's establishments that try too hard. The dining rooms are surprisingly spacious, though I'd sooner admit to enjoying a Michelin-starred foam experiment than tell you how much I appreciate their thoughtful table spacing.

The menu, much to my chagrin, refuses to give me much ammunition for a proper takedown. Traditional Irish fare sits comfortably alongside more contemporary offerings, and - I can't believe I'm writing this - they actually execute both rather well. The roast beef dinner, which I ordered purely for research purposes (obviously), arrived with the kind of generous portions that make you suspicious of quality. Yet there it was, perfectly cooked, with vegetables that hadn't been boiled into submission as is the Irish tradition.

Their lamb shanks - and I'm gritting my teeth as I type this - are genuinely impressive. The meat falls off the bone with the kind of ease that makes you forget you're in a pub and not some fancy restaurant where they charge you extra for the privilege of breathing their rarefied air. The accompanying sauce is... well, let's just say I may have used some bread to clean the plate when I thought no one was looking.

The service manages to be both efficient and genuinely friendly, which is frankly annoying when you're trying to maintain a professional distance. They've clearly trained their staff well, though I suspect some of them are naturally pleasant people, which is even worse.

The beverage program deserves mention, if only because they've managed to maintain proper pub credentials while offering a wine list that won't make oenophiles weep into their glasses. The Guinness is well-kept - as it should be in any self-respecting Dublin establishment - and the cocktails are surprisingly competent, though I'm still somewhat opposed to cocktails in a pub on principle.

Now, about the prices - they're firmly in the middle range, which makes it irritatingly difficult to complain about value for money. Main courses hover in that sweet spot where you can't quite justify outrage but still feel compelled to raise an eyebrow while scanning the menu. Yet after eating there, that eyebrow inevitably lowers itself in reluctant acceptance.

The free parking is a welcome touch, though I'm convinced it's just to lull you into a false sense of security before you spend more than intended on their admittedly tempting dessert menu. The outdoor beer garden provides a pleasant enough escape when the Dublin weather decides to be merciful, which happens approximately three times per year.

For families contemplating a visit (because apparently that's a thing people do now - bring children to proper establishments), they offer a children's menu that doesn't insult the intelligence of small humans with the usual frozen nugget fare. Though I maintain that sophisticated dining and sticky fingers rarely mix well.

Look, I didn't want to like P. McCormack and Sons. I really didn't. But in a city awash with places trying to reinvent the wheel, they've simply focused on doing the basics properly, which is infuriatingly refreshing. Whether you're in Dublin for a proper meal or just a pint, you'll find yourself grudgingly impressed by what they've achieved here. Just do yourself a favor and book ahead - they're popular enough to turn away walk-ins, a fact that annoys me almost as much as admitting this place is worth your time.