Nice February we're having...
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| The T-Bay Café |
T-Bay is essentially Ireland's attempt at reproducing the diner in Summer Bay. The furniture looks like it's been cobbled up from whatever driftwood washed in during the last storm, and the concrete floor is forever covered in a thin film of sand, either windblown or tramped in on bare feet. The staff all tend to wear impossibly optimistic clothing and hair colours they'll come to regret in the future. Presumably, they've all also been fostered by Pippa at some stage and now live at the caravan park when they're not getting up to mischief in Yabbi Creek. If any of this sounds like a criticism, it most certainly isn't!
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| Note the Gaggia! |
T-Bay, of course, isn't a pub, but merits the exception being made. There are few places better to sit around looking at the people and the weather pass by, and listen to improbable-looking surfers complain about how the waves are just not quite right, and how they might try up along the coast at Bunmahon. The small downstairs café spills out onto a raised decking area that hunkers down from the wind behind a brightly graffiti-ed storage container. If rain does drive you inside, the huge upstairs windows are a great spot to watch the clouds trail their grey skirts across the bay.
The Sandwich:
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| Faff-free |
Firstly, it's only €3.50. We're already on a winner here. There's no faffing about - no threat of focaccia or alioli here. The choice between white and brown bread is about as cosmopolitan as we need to get, and who could possibly object a few aul' Pringles trun* up on the side. It's Breville-cooked and pleasingly lined and crunchy on the outside. The ham has been added by a generous hand, and the use of sliced cheese, a matter of some controversy among the toastie community, achieved a nice gooey consistency without quite attaining the Promised Land of the stringy-melty bit. The onions were properly assertive without overpowering, the tomatoes warm, sweet and squishy. But soft! There's something else at play here as well - some class of a secret ingredient is working a subtle magic on our faceholes. We couldn't decide what it was, whether a Marie Rose sauce, a salad cream or a bit of sneaky relish, but there was a sweetness to the sandwich which elevated this toastie from senior club level to inter-county standard. This fella could be hurling well into August and maybe even September. That and a coffee in the sea breeze on a Monday evening, not to mention the Sprog falling asleep in the buggy - it's a potent and pleasurable combination.
On Tap:
No beer! Just as well - I'd never leave otherwise. A very fine Badger & Dodo coffee (roasted in Cork, boy), more types of tea than you could shake a stick at and a mean hot chocolate with marshmallows do a very fine job in taking up the slack. Does a ferocious Capri-Sun as well...
On The Stereo:
Downstairs you can earwig the staff's iPod playlist - plenty of mushy Jack Johnson carry-on - but if you're not outside listening to the flags pouring protests onto the wind against the waves' susurrations, you're missing a trick.
The Verdict:
This one's a keeper. Whether the rain is running rivulets down the windowpanes or the sun is making fools and lobsters of us, whether you're nursing a dirty head or fresh in from a post-work surf, you're going to find it very easy to make a stop in worth an hour of your day. Sometimes, I think the Sprog thinks he lives here and only pops up around the house for visits.
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| Does good sunsets too! |
T-Bay - it's suddenly clear, I will always need you here...
*local idiomatic expression, for which read 'thrown'
