241) McGowan's of Phibsborough Road, D7

A mysteriously dilapidated piano at the entrance court is worthy of some tipsy scrutiny, and fumbling attempts to play upon its soundless keys are allowed. But within is a gargantuan hive of mediocrity, frequently empty, filling up only for corporate dinners and birthday parties, christenings and communions, weddings and funerals. We only went the once. It was ‘nuff said.

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