Smithfield

Urbanity likes to do it themselves. Practically everything is made from scratch in-house by three friends crazy about good food and even better coffee. They bake the bread, pickle the pickles, toast the granola, and churn out the nut butters, oh, and they roast the coffee, too (single-origin beans straight from Oslo). Each menu item is elevated with an unusual flavor—classic porridge with Medjool dates and a citrusy honey, for example. The space is cheery and bright, with long communal tables ideal for a leisurely coffee and maybe a chat with the stranger sitting next to you.

For a long time, Hacienda was Dublin’s best-kept secret. The word is out now—but that doesn't mean that the proprietor, Shay, with his unpredictable door policy, will let you in. From the outside, this could be any other Smithfield doorway (always firmly shut), but inside you'll find a proper pub that probably hasn’t changed in fifty years, complete with pool tables, darts, and a roaring fire. The minuscule outside area fits four, max, but is always crammed with more. Hacienda is not the place for a glass of wine: Stick to pints or a good Irish whiskey on the rocks and settle in for a long night of what can only be described as craic—Irish for having a good time.