
Notions @ Two Pups
Superior spring plates and a new place for natty wine, right in time for the sunshine spell
Posted:
15 Apr 2025
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Written by:
Ronan Doyle
What should we know about Notions?
It’s the age-old Irish, casually thrown out there cut-down for anyone getting ideas above their station - the notions. Nearly ten years into their tenure on Francis Street, with a second site in Fairview opened in 2023 and a new bakery Bold Boy serving both sites just launched in January, it’s no surprise Two Pups have given their after-hours wine bar venture a tongue-in-cheek title. Sure what are they at.

Expectations are high here, with Two Pups’ longstanding reputation for top-class coffee and quality, well-sourced ingredients across their brunch offerings giving plenty of cause to hope for another new hot spot in Dublin’s growing wine bar scene. The idea of seasonal small plates and a small natty wine menu spilling out into the street just in time for this mid-spring sunshine spell had us racing to the Liberties to get an early look at Notions.

Where should we sit?
Outside, if the weather and your timing will allow it – the original walk-in only policy has already pivoted to bookings by Instagram DM, so you can request an al fresco spot if you’re early enough. It’ll be into the summer before the sun gets high enough in the sky to hit these seats directly, but it’s still a super spot to enjoy some fresh air.

Inside, the three open, vintage-furnished rooms have plenty of two and four-top tables at various levels of privacy – we spied an assortment of gabby group catch-ups and intimate date nights that all looked equally at home in the spots they’d settled in. There’s another outdoor space to the rear they haven’t opened up yet, but are actively considering if demand builds up.

What’s on the menu?
It’s split into nibbles, snacks and plates (small and large) with no demand that you have to order a certain amount – a two-course minimum joint this ain’t, we’re glad to report. Notions is very much eyeing up the neighbourhood bistro vibe, welcoming all from the post-work glass-and-olives gang to the more gluttonous, work-your-way-through-the-whole-menu hordes. No points for guessing where we landed.

Polenta chips with truffle aioli (€8) had set up camp in our minds long before we arrived, courtesy of this Instagram post, and we couldn’t wait to sink our teeth into those golden crusts. They yielded less crisp satisfaction than we’d fantasised about, as though they’d gone in the oil just a moment too early - with a touch more crunch, the well-seasoned cornmeal would be an amuse-bouche worthy of all the hype.

If we’re venturing into improvements, we might also switch out their sauce for the mustard aioli that’s dabbed under and atop the ham hock croquettes (€9) – its nose-wrinkling kick has much more to offer than the artificial earthiness of truffle (oil) aioli. Versus the one-two punch saltiness of the tender shredded ham and molten smoked Gubbeen cheese within, it’s a perfect trio.

It will have been a springtime for the ages if we have another seasonal plate half as good as what came next. Crunchy, lemon-dressed radishes (€9) are halved and scattered over a chunky romesco sauce bathed in wild garlic oil, finished with a flurry of grated hazelnut. Regular readers will know we’re nerds of the highest order when it comes to seasonal eating, so trust us when we say that every forkful, then spoonful, then wiped-finger-ful of this dish is the optimum taste of spring.

One plate like that is good grounds to get booking at some point – two is cause to drop everything and go now. The asparagus dish (€14) is as ravishing as the radishes, with tender pan-fried spears and crunchy-crisp cavolo nero sat in a pool of parmesan cream, topped with caramelised cubes of guanciale. There’s a profoundly satisfying simplicity here - birdsong, sunny spells, and quietly confident cooking like this are what make spring so special. Since our visit this one has been bumped up to large plate status with the addition of pan-fried gnocchi – more soakage for that sauce can only be a good thing.

More seasonality came in a "charred seasonal greens" salad (€12) that threatened to spill out over the table at the first hint of a fork – we’ll not lament the impression of an almighty portion, but a bigger plate or smaller serving was dearly needed. We found little evidence of the menu’s promised “charred” greens" among the assorted baby spinach and wild rocket leaves, though buried bunches of tender stem broccoli did look to have met with a pan. With ample anchovy chunks in the Caesar-style dressing however we didn’t take long to finish the refreshing lot.

Fungiphiles’ hearts will be aflutter at the oyster mushroom plate with shimeji, black garlic and tarragon (€12). Not content enough with the mushroominess of crisped oyster and crunchy shimeji, they add duxelles-esque puree and airy cream in for what feels like a treatise on the essential flavour profile of the humble mushroom. Fans like us will lap it up, and not for the first time we got the sense that the Notions team has thought very deeply about what they’re cooking, and how to bring its best qualities out.

A classical treatment is sometimes the answer to that - enter the Iberico pork cheek cassoulet (€26). The mound of meat disintegrated at the sight of a knife, so tenderly braised in its stew of butterbeans and nduja, that the resultant rich, deep flavour profile can’t help but bring on sighs of satisfaction. Salsa verde on top is a necessarily fresh, zesty intervention, lest you be tempted to slump into a coma. Once again, this is food to make you swoon.

What are the drinks like?
We liked the wine menu’s layout, with by-the-price sections for go to, treat yourself, or spoil yourself style nights – vital for the price conscious customer. However vital too is value, and while we found the atmosphere and experience worth the final bill, markups that go above even the usual absurdity of Dublin were the only thing here that really did reek of notions.

For context, the sparkling Sampagnino below is €55 by the bottle here, and €41 in Lena, Portobello. The Vina Illusion white Rioja is €55 here and €44 in Uno Mas. The El Troyano which is €52 here is €42 in Hera. None of these places work off low margins. A better selection on the cheaper end of the menu, or wine mark ups that feel less like a knife to our bank balance would go a long way, particularly considering that barely anyone is eating out as much as they did 12 months ago, because of, ya know, the bleedin' price of everything.

Instagram posts attest the staff’s involvement in building out the selections and it shows – their knowledge is second to none, with tasters and tips offered in abundance. We started with the Bulli Sampagnino frizzante, a pleasantly dry sparkling alternative to the bog standard Prosecco found in most places, then the Sassara Pinot Griso, an earthy orange that opened up the radishes and romesco. Our server was endearingly enthusiastic about the Colbacco Quarto Protocollo from the funky section as a pairing for the pork, and its smoky, volcano soil character was an excellent rival for the nduja spice.

How was the service?
Best seen when discussing the wine, the team here is really into what they’re doing, and it’s infectious. Everyone is casual, chatty and completely clued-in to the menu and how to help you make the most of it. The food is reason enough for us to come back - knowing what a warm welcome you’ll get is the cherry on top.

And the damage?
€128.50 to sample almost all of the menu and enough wine to get a good sense of the standard – the things we do for you. A go to glass and one of the smaller plates would keep you closer to €20 a head if you fancied a quick pit stop – go on, you deserve it.
What’s the verdict on Notions?
The very notion of “notions”, if you will, is a double-edged sword. It's an Irish attitude of comic modesty, sure, but a sometimes-suffocating aversion to the new too, a sense that we can’t be having with those nice, y’know, continental things. As we glugged the last of our over-priced glasses and looked out at the outdoor tables of punters stubbornly pretending it’s still warm enough to sit out after the sun sets, we were grateful that aversion is fading faster all the time.

We may not have the weather, but in an increasing number of places like this we have a quality of ingredients, a talent for using them, and a growing culture for embracing it all that does Irish food proud. We'll always cheers to notions like those.