Luke O’Connell-
Another burrito place, then. I was happy to hear that a late-night burrito bar was opening just down the road from me but it had a lot to live up to, given that Pablo Picante’s is one of the best inexpensive restaurants in Dublin. I had high expectations.
There was something up, though. On their opening day, on the Facebook page for Littleass Burrito Bar in Rathmines, two different people had written something negative about the restaurant’s food. Within hours the comments were “disappeared”, as they say. One of them wrote on the wall again, asking why he had been censored. A fairly bullshit excuse followed and they offered a refund. To be fair, they haven’t “officially” opened yet and so teething problems are inevitable but this is hardly the reputation they want to be building for themselves so early. Burrito literally means “little donkey” so the name is not as daft as it sounds, I suppose.
I ordered the smokey pork option. Chaos ensued. For one, the staff were what I would describe as very irritating morons. They sang, they chirped, they did a lot of things that I don’t want someone serving me food to do. I don’t know what song the man at the till was singing but it wasn’t silence, and that was enough. But I got over this initial negative and waited for them to make me my burrito.
And, boy, did I wait. How long can it take to make a burrito, you might wonder? Very fucking long, it seems, if the staff are as idiotic as this. I caught them rewrapping my fillings at least once because they made such a balls of it. For someone else’s order, I overheard one employee whisper to another that it wasn’t wrapped very well because they had put too much in it and I imagine that once that punter opened up his foil wrapping, it was like being exposed to a somewhat edible nappy. Little ass, indeed. Bring your spoons.
Once I finally got out of there, after what was at least 10 minutes, I brought it home. The staff couldn’t annoy me there. It was quite good, better than I had expected, but a little watery and the rice tasted like basmati. The pork was tasty. The salsa was pedestrian. For €6.95, with no student deal, it was no Pablo’s. In fact, I’d prefer a Burritos & Blues to this, and they’re not as up their own arse. I’ll probably be back though, considering it’s open until 4.30am at the weekend. Hopefully the staff will soon settle down and become bored with their jobs and their existence. Hopefully they will come to terms with the fact that life is meaningless and everyone dies alone, and singing lah-di-dah songs is not going to change that. What happened to old-fashioned Irish grumpiness? I long for the stranger’s grunt. Make me my food and let me fuck off.
3/5
