We wandered in off Baggot St,, down the stairs to Isabel's, unprepared for the loveliness of this little pace and even less prepared for the creative, delicious food. Our salads were so whimsically assembled, so different from any salad that they temporarily ruined us for any other salad. The slow cooked pork dish, the addictive breads, the unforgettable lemon dessert. I wouldn't have been surprised to find this place in Paris. I would have been delighted by it there. I'm staggered by it here. (It's not cheap. Consider it one of your special dinners. But it probably won't break you.) I want to go back.
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