The Hog and Hound @ the Old Mill

Just what Macroom needed - another pub with delusions of grandeur. The Hog and Hound @ the Old Mill sounds like it was named by a committee of marketing executives who've never set foot in Cork County. And yet, here I am, reluctantly penning what might be the most surprising revelation of my critical career.

I arrived expecting the usual Irish pub fare with aspirational pricing and left questioning everything I thought I knew about dining in market towns. The Old Mill building itself is admittedly atmospheric, with its rough stone walls and crackling fireplaces that make you forget you're technically here to review another middling gastropub in Macroom.

Let's address the elephant in the room - or should I say the hog in the hound house? The name is ridiculous. But like that friend who gave their child an absurd name and somehow makes it work, The Hog and Hound owns its identity with a confidence that's almost admirable. Almost.

The menu initially reads like a greatest hits of pub classics, which usually signals mediocrity masquerading as tradition. But here's where things take an unexpected turn. Their Sunday roast (a hill I'm prepared to die on when it comes to pub food) is something of a minor miracle. The beef is properly rested, the Yorkshire puddings don't have the structural integrity of building materials, and the gravy... well, let's just say I've paid twice as much for worse in Dublin.

The real surprise comes in their willingness to venture beyond the standard pub playbook. Their schnitzel (yes, schnitzel in Macroom) is inexplicably good - crispy, tender, and served without a hint of the apologetic "we know this isn't Vienna" attitude you might expect. The kitchen seems to operate on the radical principle that people outside cities actually deserve properly cooked food.

The space manages to walk that precarious line between cozy pub and actual restaurant without falling into the trap of being neither. The open fires do a lot of heavy lifting here, creating an atmosphere that makes you forgive the occasional design choice that verges on "Irish Pub Theme Park." But unlike many venues trying to modernize traditional spaces, they've kept the soul of the place intact.

Their drink selection deserves mention, if only because they've somehow managed to stock a bar that suggests someone actually cares about what people want to drink rather than what's easiest to order from the distributor. The beer is properly kept (a lower bar than you'd think in rural Ireland), and their cocktail list, while not revolutionary, shows more ambition than the usual suspects of poorly made gin and tonics and whatever passes for an Irish Coffee these days.

Service strikes that perfect Irish balance of professional and personal - they're likely to remember your name and your order, but won't sit down and tell you their life story (unless you ask, in which case, clear your schedule). It's the kind of genuine hospitality that makes you realize how rare the real thing has become.

For families, they've managed to create a menu that doesn't insult children's palates while keeping parents happy - no small feat. The kids' portions are generous enough to suggest they actually want to feed children rather than just tick a box on their business plan.

As for value, well, here's the thing - it's not cheap, but it's not trying to be. What it is, surprisingly, is fair. When the bill arrives, you don't feel like you need to remortgage your house or that you've been taken for a ride. In today's dining landscape, that's practically revolutionary.

Look, I didn't want to like The Hog and Hound @ the Old Mill. I walked into Macroom's latest dining establishment armed with skepticism and ready to add it to the long list of pubs that should have stuck to pulling pints. Instead, I'm forced to admit that sometimes, just sometimes, places like this get it right. If you find yourself in Macroom (which, let's be honest, probably means you took a wrong turn somewhere), you could do far worse than stopping here. In fact, you probably couldn't do better. And it pains me greatly to say that.