Cinnamon Ranelagh — Restaurant in Dublin

The Cinnamon Experience 🤣 By someone who knows a good sandwich when he sees one.

Today, I ventured into the leafy battleground of Ranelagh for what can only be described as a high-stakes social experiment: meeting my friend’s new girlfriend for the first time. To balance the equation, I brought my own girlfriend, thereby forming a double-date unit with all the delicate dynamics of a diplomatic summit. Naturally, the stakes were high. First impressions. Social finesse. And, crucially, food.

The restaurant was half full — the sweet spot. Enough atmosphere to prevent awkward silences, but not so rammed that you’re chewing with someone’s coat button in your ear. We snagged a lovely round table, the sort where conversation flows more easily and you're not sat like rigid statues on opposite sides of a plank.

And then the staff arrived. In waves. Like an overzealous coast guard. “Are you ready to order?” “How about now?” “Still not ready?” It’s like they’d placed bets in the kitchen on who could break us first. We were mid-chat, trying to gauge the new girlfriend’s vibe, when one of them asked for the fourth time if we were ready to order. I nearly ordered just to make them go away.

Now, normally I make a beeline for burgers like a heat-seeking missile. But today I was feeling adventurous, so I ordered a club sandwich the size of a shoebox. It arrived oozing sauce with the energy of a collapsing trifle. A glorious mess. Delicious, but not without its consequences. I spent half the meal drowning in club sauce, wiping my beard like I was putting out a kitchen fire. The craic was flying, and so were napkins.

My Italian mate, meanwhile, was enduring a quiet tragedy. He ordered a beef burger and chips. They gave him chicken. Chicken! He looked like he’d been personally betrayed by the chef. There he was, nibbling forlornly at some chips like a Victorian orphan while I was tearing through my sandwich like a man possessed. He tried to play it cool in front of his new flame, but I saw the pain behind his eyes. The man was suffering.

To console myself (and deepen his agony), I ordered two fried eggs on the side. Because if you're going to have lunch, you may as well go full gladiator. The women went for something more delicate — chicken and stuffing, coronation chicken — you know, the polite sandwiches of people trying to appear respectable.

Eventually, the Italian’s correct burger landed. He tucked in, trying to act like he wasn’t ravenous. He even left a few chips on the plate, performing the age-old ritual of pretending to be full for the sake of romantic optics. But I know him. That man doesn’t leave chips. It was a performance.

I, meanwhile, rode gloriously into dessert territory with a slice of carrot cake that was moist, dense, and smugly satisfying. The others watched on as I ate it like a man who knows dessert is the rightful end to any respectable meal.

Now, the staff. Friendly, yes. But once the orders were taken, they vanished into the ether like a magician's assistant. Not so much inattentive as completely absent. Had we caught fire, I doubt anyone would have noticed until the smoke reached the kitchen.

But despite the chaos and a few Oscar-worthy mix-ups, it was a brilliant afternoon. The food hit the spot, the company was tops, and the craic was mighty — the kind of mighty that turns a casual lunch into a story you'll be telling for years.

Just maybe bring a translator for your Italian friend — or possibly a therapist — while he’s mistakenly handed a chicken burger, watches your eggs arrive like royalty, and picks at his chips like a man performing grief through garnish. He wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of...

Went to this particular branch with my family. Parents had steak and eggs while I had fish and chips. Steak & eggs presentation left a lot to be desired, the guacamole on top gave the impression that someone had already eaten the meal. The skillets that were used as serving dishes did look trendy, however they were impossible to eat from. Steak itself was excellent but the eggs came scrambled when poached were ordered and the potatoes were undercooked. Fish and chips was alright, nothing extraordinary but wouldn't mind ordering again. Coffees were delicious, but they weren't our main focus during the meal.

Service was extremely poor. Our hostess was doing her best, running around during the brunch rush but this meant she was absent and didn't seem like she was giving anyone her full attention. Not her fault in the slightest but it set the tone for the meal. Our waiter, on the other hand, wrote down our orders wrong, which we could have excused, if not for the fact that when we went to pay, we got our receipt as €51.40. Using debit, the statement we got printed said €64.57, which is €13.17 of a tip we neither were informed of or consented to. That's a 25% tip for an abysmal experience. Will not return again. Take care when paying with card unless you want to have your waiter decide how much tip...

Allright, so I've been working in Ranelagh for a year, I've heard a lot about Cinnamon before actually going there. My girlfriend and I went there for a breakfast, we arrived 10mins before breakfast service ends so we had to order fast which is fair, but then... I was mortified when I didn't see the Full Irish Breakfast option, I mean.... Come on.. this is a must in my opinion, every not Irish restaurant serving brunch or breakfast will have a full Irish or an other version of it. My girlfriend got the oatmeal with red berries, Welp, red berries .. there were, and I counted them 6 berries in the bowl. I ended up taking a pain au chocolat, with a hot chocolate and it was crazy, I wasn't expecting anything crazy as I didn't have a full Irish. For the service, well, people are not rude or mean, but you can feel that most of them are not having any pleasure serving people, I work in the Hospitality Industry, for 9years now, and I can tell that there was no pleasure at all when I was looking at faces, that's a shame ):. The venue is very good looking tho, very...