Parrilla

What should we know about Parrilla?

When does a trickle become a trend? It seems long past time to declare Mexican cuisine the new flavour of the month in Dublin, as Parrilla sees the wave wash up in Ranelagh. Jules Mak – of the much-loved Chinese up the road – had the idea in mind long before Tacos Lupillo, Pickosito and Chilangos arrived on the scene, and the Friday night crowds we waded through en route to our table would suggest this market is nowhere near saturated.

The name comes from the charcoal grill cooking style popular across Latin America. Mak has staffed his with a primarily Mexican crew, including several new arrivals to Ireland, and brought many of his namesake restaurant’s management staff across to avoid the opening hurdles – speedy service and prompt but unpushy turnover times make that seem like a smart move.

Where should we sit?

The bright, spacious and well-appointed room is built around a long central bar, with booths for groups of four to six adjoining it, and two and four-top tables along the walls ready to be pushed and pulled to accommodate whoever walks in the door – they’ll take online reservations for up to six only.

None of the seats have much of a good look into the kitchen pass at the back, nor is there much in the way of intimate nooks and crannies - it’s less date night vibes than gabbling groups you’re in for here.

What’s on the menu?

Ten “bites” of various sizes, five tacos, four grilled mains and four sides – plenty, in a word. 777 is a closer comparison than any of those other recent arrivals, with a similar grill focus and fewer fast-casual favourites like quesadillas in sight.

Chips and guac is an obvious bar-setting entry point and a generally solid start - Parrilla aren’t making their own masa on-site but they’re getting the good stuff, and these are a strong showcase of where that makes all the difference. We won’t be petitioning for a retail range of the house salsas anytime soon though, we've had more standout versions. They keep the hanger at bay, but the portion sizing also needs a rethink – that’s either too much dip or not enough chip, we know which side we land on.

It's in a dish like crab tostada that the rubber really meets the road, and we sensed no skidding on this plate with perfect balance. Shallots support the delicate sweetness of the meat, while the well-calibrated tang of chipotle mayo and salsa verde cut through rich avocado chunks. The crisp fried corn tortilla is just-right in how it breaks into bites rather than a shattered sprawl – far harder than it looks.

We loved them all the more in retrospect as we masticated our way through the squid - a rubbery dud of a dish. There was no trace of the menu-touted coal-cooking in sight or taste, the neat kick of nduja and a tajin-spiked batter wasted on overcooked rings that never should have made it onto the floor. With well-cooked calamari we can imagine this singing the crab’s same hymn of poise and balance, instead of a one-note wail that couldn’t have ended soon enough.

Who could have guessed something as simple as pineapple would save the day – not all heroes wear capes, some just bring a salty-sour-sweet symphony to cleanse your memory as well as your palate. We’d expect a lot of diners’ eyes to gloss over "Pina Caramelizada" (it reads more as a taco topping than a plate) but don't be among the deniers. Eyes will flare wide open at the intensity of flavour here, mouth-puckeringly pickled onions and tongue-twitching tajin playing off the sharp sweet flood of pineapple juice gushing forth from caramelised edges.

There are Dublin prices, and then there are Ranelagh prices, and then there are Ranelagh prices in 2024. It is not Parrilla’s fault that the world is where it is and that the balancing act of marking margins stack up in that context is a near-impossible feat, but we winced at the thought of two tacos for €10-€14, a notable step-up in price-per-piece terms than anywhere else outside the canals and plenty within them – 777 is all we can think of that can beat it, and Taco Tuesday is the night to go there when it's two tacos for €8.

In the case of the fish (€13 for two) we can almost allow it, chubby fingers of battered cod so generously shrouded in salsa and guac they’re almost a challenge to pick up. For the steak (€14) it’s a far harder sell, with the grill again failing to stand out in these chunks of under-rendered beef, barely basted by a dollop of avocado-courgette cream.

Parrilla potatoes play like a Mexican twist on bravas, with tajin-sprinkled halves of baby spuds ready to receive the garlic aioli and chipotle salsa alongside. They were a touch less crispy than we would have liked, but the floury insides lend themselves well to the duo of sauces, which were good alone but better together.

Dessert seems to change daily if early accounts are anything to go by, and our chocolate orange tart was a bit of a box-ticker, with fine flavours but texture wide of the mark. The sand-dry crust worked as nothing but vessel, while the chocolate filling needed far more cream - its thick-set consistency took such pressure to cut through it went flying off the plate. We wished we'd stuck with a digestif.

What about the drinks?

They're a big part of the appeal here. Parrilla has shacked up with Casamigos, the award-winning tequila brand that Diageo bought off George Clooney and friends back in 2017, for a margarita menu that should make this a popular spot for more well-heeled pre-drinks – the Friday night crowd all looked intent on heading out after.

We were most excited for the verdita margarita but they’d run out of the namesake mixer – a spiced and herbed pineapple juice. We settled on a server-recommended Spicy Fox instead, with Tequila, spicy Aperol, passion fruit, pineapple, orgeat, cherry and lemon. This is one aspect that Parrilla gets pitch-perfect.

With the michelada we’d had at our recent Chilangos visit still living rent free in our heads, we couldn’t resist another one here – you know, for research purposes. We’re sorry to say it was a wet whimper to the other’s big bang, and a price point (€10, where the Sol alone is €5.70) that added insult to injury.

How was the service?

This is a slick operation, with the Mak team’s involvement clear to see in the way the bustling room is tightly managed – keeping that many plates spinning is no mean feat for a new arrival. We’d worried showing up to the very last seating on a Friday night (good time slots at less than two weeks’ notice are few and far between right now) might have the staff hating us, but they couldn’t have been nicer. The kitchen crew is just as well-oiled, with food before us in remarkably quick order. If you want food fast, but not fast food, you’ll find it here.

And the damage?

Everything here plus two cokes took us to €120. We reckon you’d want to budget a minimum €40 a head just for food if this is dinner for the night, more if you feel like venturing into the mains. Our top tip for thrift is a cocktail, the pineapple plate, and tostadas to share – that’s the makings of a very good catchup for €30 each.

What’s the verdict on Parrilla?

It’s clear from the thought-through cocktail menu and the more inspired dishes that Parrilla is closer to the labour of love it’s proclaimed itself than the high-turnover business opportunity it might have been in more cynical hands, but there’s a few kinks that could do with ironing out for it to reach its full potential, especially in the crowded and quality Mexican wave we’ve happily found ourselves riding of late.

Against some of their competition out in the suburbs, Parrilla has a central location, well-crafted drinks and an undeniably buzzy atmosphere to boast about, but it's less destination dining for now, more a good compromise candidate for groups looking to start a night off on the right foot. Hopefully with time and menu tweaks the only way is up.