Restaurant review: Pizza paradise in Cork at the coolest crossroads in Ireland
Good Hood? Great Hood! Picture: Dan Linehan
If I can find a backer, I’ll stake hard cash to bet St Luke’s, a five-minute walk from Cork’s city centre, can lay claim to the coolest crossroads in Ireland. If comely dancing maidens and handsome shimmying swains are seeking tunes, Live at St Luke’s, in a former church on one ‘corner’, is a unique venue with a sublime and eclectic programme that draws ‘pilgrims’ from all over Munster.
Decades ago, I lived in a then edgier St Luke’s, Cork’s erstwhile bohemia for a motley mob of dole-sponsored artists, musicians, and writers. The former period homes that housed the flats and bedsits of my youth may now be rapidly reconverting to their original status as property values shoot ever upwards but a louche sense of the creative lingers; the recent arrival of Mercier Press HQ only burnishes that vibe. Every artist needs a good pub — Henchy’s was never less than a great pub but has added a continental sensibility in recent years, spilling outside onto a paved ‘terrace’. Its allure is now a citywide phenomenon.
And what of food? In 1993, the visionary Anne O’Keeffe and her son David turned an old grocery into one of Ireland’s finest independent retailers of artisan and specialty food, a very early promoter of then neighbours Arbutus Bread during the nascent stirrings of Ireland’s sourdough bread revolution.
The smell of freshly baked bread also wisps across the road every Wednesday, where baker Angela Nothling sells her superb German rye from a stall outside Henchy’s. The Cross harbours an old-school Chinese, Phoenix House, and the bustling St Luke’s Wine Tavern but the arrival of Good Hood is a gamechanger.
Owner/operators Colin Ryan and Ciarán O’Regan have a burgeoning hospitality pedigree that includes cracking Dublin pizzeria Rita’s and top brunch spot Paperboy in Triskel Arts Centre. (Ryan also owns hot-ticket Hansum Rotisserie in the Marina Market.)
An evening in St Luke’s cannot pass without stopping in Henchy’s for a pint of plain before Bad Bill and I pop across the road for a 9.30pm Friday booking, the earliest we could procure, a week in advance. Al fresco seating has summer smash written all over it but is defunct on such a cold night and we relish the warmth within from the pizza oven in the open tiled kitchen to the left. To the right is a tiled reception/bar counter. The predominantly white-themed decor is smart, stylish yet gracefully underplayed. In other words, food does the heavy lifting round these parts.
An initial friendly welcome is soon freighted with looming disaster — ongoing building-related shenanigans entirely beyond GH’s control means they currently operate a BYOB policy. Pizza without wine? The horror! Mercifully, O’Keeffe’s around the corner is still just about open. Two minutes later, we’re back with a nice Chianti… and an even nicer Barolo, just in case.
Bad Bill and I would do hard time for good pizza but, though it is at the heart of their offering, GH’s ambitions stretch further. Brunch/lunch is in the pipeline but, for now, seven pizzas are cannily supplemented by five sharing plates. A smart selection, we order three — along with three pizzas. In my defence, I am reviewing; Bad Bill has no defence, just a huge appetite for pizza.
Beef cheek (€13) is on ‘crispy potato terrine’, actually, deep-fried rectangles of potato gratin, a dish that has spread like wildfire through the digital bush. I’ve betimes scoffed at online taste trends but this recipe is so insanely addictive, I’ve come across it on multiple menus, ‘high’ and ‘low’, lusting after it every time. On top, a lush slow-braised ragu of rich flavoursome beef rests under freshly grated shavings of pecorino Romano — the kind of dish that would nearly make you give up pizza.
Both of us are also big fans of beetroot. Beets on goats (€11) is oven-roasted beetroot interspersed with firm tart blackberries in a most becoming fashion, perched on an island of chalky white whipped goat’s cheese with a creamy lactic tang, offset, visually and on the palate, by verdant green of a surrounding slick of chive oil and the perky anise of fresh dill. We also order twice-cooked hand-cut fries (€6) because… well, twice-cooked hand-cut fries! They are very fine: crisp, crunchy golden exterior, fluffy white interior.
We have ordered three pizzas, with the safety net of a takeaway box option for later: Margarita (€14), tomato, mozzarella, fresh basil, and olive oil; Diego (€15), tomato, mozzarella, garlic, oregano, anchovies, and capers; and Spicy nduja (€15.50), tomato, mozzarella, nduja, pepperoni, and scamorza.
Bases are superb. Swollen at the fringes into blackened, blistering bubbles, yet still light, crisp, and savoury, softening into a delicious goo as you move to the centre. Fillings are also top drawer, of premium quality and deployed with a balanced hand.
The Nduja is a piquant pig-fest with a blissful chilli sting; salty anchovies tango with the briny sourness of capers on the Diego; and a benchmark Margarita is the perfect polyamorous marriage of its prime elements, tomato’s sugars, creamy mozzarella stringing languidly away from the mouth, while basil’s herbaceous nip and lush EV olive oil anoint the union. Best pizzas in Cork, says Bad Bill. I’d certainly have GH in the photo-finish for top spot.
GH doesn’t seek to reinvent the wheel; rather, they focus on delivering the best version possible of existing dishes, a goal achieved with aplomb, and excellent service caps a great evening. Good Hood? Great Hood! And the coolest crossroads in Ireland just got even cooler.
9 St Luke’s Avenue, Summerhill North, Cork
Bill: €74.50
