The Two Minute Review: Mrs Reid's

Ronan Doyle
Sep 30
2 min read

What’s the story with Mrs Reid’s?

It’s not only the name, paying tribute to co-owner Kristin Rowe’s grandmother, that gives Mrs Reid’s café a certain old-school sensibility. It’s the dust-flecked crowd of construction workers outside too, the no-fuss, no-frills ingredients spread behind the counter, the crusty soft rolls from Liberties institution Catherine’s Bakery up the way.

Intrigued by Rowe’s mission to serve up the best breakfast roll in D8, we’d been meaning to get in here for a while before the sight of a Sloppy Joe special pushed us over the line.

What’s on the menu?

Not that Sloppy tragically – we’ve learned we need to pounce quicker next time - but if we half-heartedly bit into the breakfast roll (€8) with a sad sense of second choice, what sweet reprieve it made. This is every inch a main event in its own right, a loaded lump of a thing we wolfed down in record time. Spreadable white pudding is a big part of what makes D10’s Ger’s Deli our IYKYK go-to in the breakfast roll stakes, and it’s slathered on here too with such relish that we may have a new challenger. There’s literal relish to boot – homemade too – spiking the meaty monster with just-right peaks of tartness and sweetness.

Washed down with a cup of the fresh, full-bodied Upside Coffee they've switched to in recent months, it's as good a start to the day as we've had in a while.

If breakfast rolls aren’t your thing, firstly seek help, and secondly try the brisket (€11). We didn’t know whether to gaze lovingly at the juice oozing out of this or lap it up off the paper, so natch we did both – this is overflowing flavour not to be missed. Peppery kicks from plentiful rocket and Dijon mayo cut through the sweet richness of slow-cooked beef and a caramelised onion jam. This is indecently messy stuff, and we’re here for it every step of the way.

Buffalo chicken (€10) needed just as many napkins, with gushing gluts of house hot sauce and garlic aioli leaving us streaked – a business lunch venue this place is not. It’s the spicy slaw that gives this one the edge with that crisp cabbage crunch, a fresh foil to the overflowing excess of punchy, creamy sauces. With either of these two a side of just-right roasties (€4.50) is a must to mop up all that mess.

It’s only the meatball sub (€10) we’d skip on return – for all the layered flavour of the rich red pepper and tomato sauce they’re simmered in, these mixed pork and beef blobs were too dry and drab to hold a candle to anything else we tried.

That’s especially as contrasted with the white pudding-studded sausage roll (€4), one of three varieties available, loaded with more of that relish and deliciously juicy through every last, flaky bite.

Why should we go?

With hyper-local sourcing (meat also comes courtesy of Meath Street) and a cheerily casual vibe, Mrs Reid’s sits pretty on this street corner like the kind of good neighbour we could all do with a few more of. These are top-tier sammidges, plain and simple.