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Mar 21, 2018

Your Next Favourite: Temple Express Newsagents

On Westmoreland St, there's a hidden wonder of Chinese street food.

Katy AmosJunior Editor
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Ivan Rakhmanin for The University Times

You’d never notice it, sandwiched between an O’Briens and a seedy-looking casino on Westmoreland St, but a little newsagents named Temple Express is your next favourite Dublin haunt. As ridiculous as the above claim might sound, the shop is a tiny and hidden wonder.

Nestled by the door, on your left as you enter is a small stand offering iPhone repairs. Looking to your right, you will find baskets with permanent “Two for One” signs on them, full of mysteriously cheap Taytos and bags of sweets. I wouldn’t recommend looking at the sell-by dates – I’ve not fallen ill yet.

Then, of course, at the centre of the shop, is the till. But in true Temple Express fashion, it somehow also functions as a Western Union branch and an Aircoach ticket desk. Indeed in this hectic and versatile space, it would be easy to miss the true gem of the shop – the unassuming Chinese street-food counter at the back. Choose from a small menu of dishes ranging from €3.50 to €7.50, pay at the till, hand your receipt in at the counter and then head upstairs for Temple Express’s last surprise: cozy upstairs seating overlooking Westmoreland Street, the perfect people-watching spot.

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Their Chinese burgers, or “rou jia mo”, make for an incredible lunch. For only €3.50 you are served a steaming hot bun filled with your choice of slow-stewed pork or beef, with or without hot chillies depending on your preference, garnished with coriander and spring onions. The meat, stewed in spices and sauces for hours before being torn into juicy shreds, tends towards the fatty, which adds to the taste. Pork, my personal favourite, is the more traditional filling, and definitely worth trying.

If you’re looking for a bigger meal, the counter also serves a variety of delicious noodle and rice dishes. The “hot and sour glass noodle” is the one to go for if you can really handle heat: slippery translucent noodles swim about in a broth laced with chilli oil, and the dish is sprinkled with roasted peanuts, pickled vegetables, minced pork and coriander. As the name suggests, vinegar adds a sour note, and the tasty soup is so addictive that you can expect to leave with a numb mouth from the unique heat of the Sichuan peppercorns.

Please visit infrequently so the prices aren’t hiked up: you can thank me later.

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