The Two Minute Review: Mambo Sambo
- Ronan Doyle

- 3 hours ago
- 2 min read
What’s the story with Mambo Sambo?
“Our vision of what a deli should be like” at Mambo Sambo is pretty simple: “not just processed shite”. We couldn’t argue when their Christmas toastie took honours in our latest annual rundown. Back then they were managing loaves-and-fishes miracles out of a poky truck behind Inchicore’s Glen of Aherlow; since, they’ve shacked up with a renovated McDowell’s up the road and bagged themselves the space to really go wild.

What do we need to know?
Where not to sit, first of all. Though the suntrap stretch that sees neighbours Unfiltered and Riggers thronged will be packed all summer, steer clear of the huffing exhaust. The whiff of grilled cheese in our hair isn’t exactly a rarity, but one you might want to avoid if you’re venturing onward after. Though who’d want to with the sun beating down as it was on our first sleepy Sunday afternoon visit - pint in hand, you’d park here all day.

Which we thought we might have to as time rolled by, with no sandwich in sight. Less than a month in the new space teething issues are to be expected, but with few other punters in sight we couldn’t comprehend this long a wait. It worked as an appetite-builder at least - we inhaled a Mambo cheese steak (€14.50) with the full force of a Dyson. This two-cheese molten mess of mozzarella and cheddar swaddles grilled rib-eye and caramelised onion in a soupy, steaming feast, with only the crunch of crispy onions to slow you from swallowing it whole. Worth a wait, for sure.

The beefy madness (€11.50)… was not. Mambo’s approach goes all in on double dairy decadence - the fat stick of butter they baste the grill with, and the full-contact crispness of the cheese flipped onto it. A moment too long left it overly crisp, and if the beef were better it’d have almost passed us by, but these dry dud shreds were left steaming too long, losing all the juicy goodness of the gold standard at Mrs Reid’s.

We’ve seen (and smelled) enough online and in passing to know that’s not standard fare for the slow-cooked Mambo meats, so it fell to spicy pulled pork to prove they could do it better when the brisket was already gone on a second-chance visit. Plenty of other options were too – €6 toastie Thursday was bringing the crowds. They won't have left hungry. Meat and cheese both just the right side of caramelisation this time, crisped bread faring better than an overly soft roll, this spicy, sloppy jalapeño and crispy onion filled specimen is how it’s done.

Why should we go?
The hard-hatted queue from the building site across the road who pass over the cheap Spar nearby is all the endorsement you need on the chicken fillet (€11.50) and breakfast roll (€8.50). Both of these are textbook with a twist, like the chicken’s sweat-inducing bounty of bacon and pepperoni, or the breakfast’s soft yolks soaked into spreadable pudding. In just a few minutes’ early morning we saw dozens doled out. If this place can hit its stride, it’ll be our vision of what a deli should look like too.

Mambo Sambo
McDowell’s pub, Emmet Road, Inchicore






