WORDS Alex Milne-Turner

Any bar without a name gives off certain expectations; tucked in a side alley, a discreet black door that requires a known knock, maybe even an ambiguous sign that appeals to curiosity. It is usually an illusion of secrecy or just mere pretension. Drury Street’s newest restaurant implies none of this and, although still without a definitive name, has not pandered to the desire for exclusivity through secret doors or private online releases. Instead, they have thrown their doors open, along with any caution, aiming to build a reputation from good food and cocktails, rather than an eye catching name.

“We’ll figure the name out when the name gets figured out,” owner Ronan Rogerson tells me as we sit down for a glass of their home brewed Pilsner. This is the style of the place: it refuses to be labelled, and the bar, like the name, is still figuring out a formula. The building reflects this further — graffiti splatters the crumbling wall outside, yet upon entering the interior is sharp and clean, with the bar the shining centerpiece. A smooth wooden floor, tasteful paintings and low lighting offer an art-deco decor. It is a traditional core with a modern outlook that leaves you with an intriguing, refreshing taste in your mouth — although that might just be their unusual Cucumber and Horseradish Collins.

The cocktail menu in general takes you from the 1860 Old Fashioned (made using a unique ice-orb), to the 2013 Lemon and Elderflower Martini; an attractive, down-to-earth alcoholic history lesson. Yet it is a casual lesson, an inviting one that doesn’t necessarily abide by any rules, willing to challenge the drinker with new flavours. The Lychee and Chilli Martini was an odd, yet exquisite, mix of flavours, and the egg white gave it the frothy texture of a Whiskey Sour. However, there needed a little more bite to justify the title. The Italian themed tapas ranges from Porchetta Bruschettas to a selection of aged cheeses, with a few Dublin Bay prawns and oysters thrown into the mix, although a personal favourite is the Smoked Coley Croquettes. The breadcrumbed coat flakes in the mouth, and the flavours balance gorgeously with the home-made paprika aioli.

Moving upstairs to the restaurant is a more fine dining experience. The menu offers a unique array from fresh mozzarella to Veal Shin Risotto with saffron, and in keeping with the tone of the establishment defies definition due to the sheer range of dishes. I had the Bean Broth, which was a bit watery for my liking and without enough flavour to justify the texture. However, the Wood Pigeon Soltimbocca, which I learnt from the chef meant melt-in-your-mouth, was exactly that. Served on a bed of spiced polenta, with the thigh cooked in with the port, it was an explosion of rich flavours; a great example of utilising fresh ingredients of the highest quality, and combining them in a unique way. This is the ethos again: traditional style revitalised. The combination of classic and unique cocktails, the music that sways from soul to electro swing and the contrast between the sharp interior and graffiti-ridden doorways all combine to enhance this. And as for the name? The Drury’s not out on that one yet.