Nico's in Schull

There are places that feed you, and then there are places that gather you in, soften the edges of your day, and quietly insist that you stay. No. 17 in Schull does exactly that. The room is wrapped in a deep, almost edible green, the kind that feels grounding and a little indulgent all at once. Candlelight flickers everywhere, not for show, but for atmosphere, casting that gentle glow that makes everything feel more intimate, more delicious, more worth lingering over. We started with the black pudding and fried potato salad, which sounds robust and it is, but there’s a lightness of touch that lifts it. Crisp edges, soft centres, and that sharp brightness of pickled red onion cutting through in exactly the right way. It’s a dish that knows itself. Then the margherita, which is a reminder that simplicity, when done properly, is anything but simple. The tomato is clean and vivid, the fior di latte soft and yielding, the basil fragrant in that quiet, confident way. Nothing showy, just perfect balance. And the rustica, which leans into comfort without ever becoming heavy. Gubbeen sausage bringing depth, fried potato again because they understand pleasure, garlic threading through it all. Generous, warm, and deeply satisfying. What really stays with you, though, is Michelangelo. A gorgeous chat about produce, about care, about where things come from. No performance, just genuine love for what he’s serving. You feel it in every bite. It’s the kind of place you go for dinner and leave feeling looked after. And already planning your next visit.

Everything is perfect. Pizza like in Italy. Service is one of the best I have seen so far