124) John Clarke and Sons of Bridge Street, D4

Small and unremarkable establishment based in Ringsend, seemingly attached to a larger eatery. Bare walls and fresh paint speak of newness. The smell of pestilent disinfectant and reek of odious detergent marked our only visit – which was nonetheless distinguished, if not hallowed, however, by a barmaid of unbearable beauty for whom Andrew Stephens formed an especial fondness, prolonging our visit accordingly, entranced by that vision of loveliness as would sweeten the most sour of stouts.

'Tis life that lies if woman's eyes have been our old undoing.

James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, p. 509

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