The Two Minute Review: Olive & Crust
What’s with all the Italian sandwiches?
They’re getting to be like Dublin buses – you wait around for one for ages and then they all appear at once (or drop off the screen like you hallucinated their existence). Given the queues still snaking out of Morso on Drury Street and Stoneybatter’s Banco months on from opening, there seems to be more than enough market to support yet more sammidges all’italiana.
Are they just hopping on the bandwagon?
To be fair – despite the “Northside Morso” headlines that heralded Olive & Crust’s arrival on Capel Steet, they were running a delivery biz out of Smithfield’s Spade Enterprise Hub long before Mani’s sister site taught (some of) us how to say schiacciata. Doubtless the other pair’s packed crowds helped veteran chef Dinos Nela bring his take on Tuscany’s famed flatbread to the site Hot Bubble Café held for the previous decade.
Where should we start?
Prego, con caffe. Any Italian eatery worth its salt starts with good coffee, and while they don’t shout about suppliers here (and wouldn’t spill the beans when asked), our flat white (€4) and Americano (€3.50) sipped smoothly as we settled into the people-watching ledge up front and awaited our order.
House spreads and premium Italian ingredients are core to the pitch here – we wrecked our necks craning at labels and would bet they’re working with importer Italicatessen based on what we spotted. You can taste the quality in the Fiorentina (€13.90), prosciutto’s salty savour and the briny funk of a gorgonzola cream brought to heel by the slicked sweetness of a fig jam we’d eat a whole jar of.
If the shared schiacciata wasn’t already inviting comparisons to Morso, the presence of porchetta sure would. Many though they be, these thin slivers off a bought-in block just can’t compete with the thick slices of the house-rolled and roasted joints across the river. In the speciale (€12.90) they’re piled high on earthy artichoke cream and caramelised onions that could have used a little longer on the hob.
We’d wager the dough’s less developed than Drury Street’s too – a flatter form and fewer big bubbles suggest a shorter rise. Still, the crispy-chewy contrast delivers the goods. If only the pesto did too. It’s lost amidst lush grilled courgettes and aubergines in a vegetariana (€11.90) that badly needs the kick. We couldn’t but think of Banco’s better (and €1.40 cheaper) riff on the same style.
Dolce schiacciata might give gimmicky vibes but there’s a don’t-knock-‘til-you’ve-tried novelty in these two the other shops can’t offer – it’s surprisingly good. Ripe banana slices stud the slick of rich ricotta cream under an oozing mass of Nutella they don’t half go the whole hog on. You’ll want this to share, between many. Do not wear white.
What’s the verdict on Olive & Crust?
On both off-peak visits we made, we watched the flat-capped Nela giddily court feedback from customers drawn in by the window’s rustic display – there’s pride and passion aplenty. But there’s also more competition than ever. With Banco beating it on price and Morso winning on provenance, Olive & Crust isn’t likely to see the same queues, but if you’re hungry in a hurry, that’s a draw in itself.
Olive & Crust
55 Capel Street, Dublin 1
