I’ll admit, I’m a cocktail snob. I scoff at Sex on the Beach, I’ve already moved past the Pornstar Martini and I’d see your mojito and raise you a Mint Julep.

There are two distinct trains of thought regarding cocktails – either you’re looking for something cheap and sugary or you’re looking for something to enjoy.

In their own words; “The city is often overrun with a plethora of overly-sweet, luminous concoctions that have little resemblance to the types of drinks once celebrated in bars all over the world, the Blind Pig serves the direct opposite. ” So say Dublin’s newest cocktail bar and I can’t argue with that.

You may roll your eye at cocktail bar staff calling themselves mixologists; but the next time you try to make a gin and elderflower collins at home without giving yourself diabetes from the cheap cordial, you tell me it’s not an art.

Let’s face it, if you’re paying less than a tenner for a cocktail, you’ll never get drunk, you’ll just get a sugar rush. If it’s to taste in any way decent, someone will have had to practice balancing the flavours, the garnish, the presentation – and to do all that so that it’s still profitable for the establishment.

The Blind Pig do two things very well. The first, most importantly, is make exceedingly good cocktails – the second is creating a buzz about themselves. Sure fire way to get people to want to go there? Don’t tell them where it is. No seriously, only once you’ve booked a table will they send you the directions including key codes, passwords and shady-sounding instructions. You’ll find yourself down a side alley, lined with scattered tea lights, descending stairs underground and emerging from behind a red curtain in something of a Wizard of Oz entrance.

The Blind Pig, named for the members of law enforcement who chose to ignore prohibition speakeasies, takes it cocktails very seriously. Everything from the white linens, the attentive table service to the grown-up glassware. By this time, if you’ve ever had a work Christmas party, private event or surprise party you may start recognising where you are and you’ll feel as smug as I did for figuring it out.

To mark the start of Blind Pig Late, a stroke of luck and a timely ReTweet saw four friends and I enjoying a glass of what they dub The Royal Flush. Refreshingly fruity, with grapefruit liqueur, fresh lemon juice, ginger ale and grapefruit bitters. It was a happy medium that pleased everyone at the table, from my savory palette to that of my candy-loving companions. Moorish is just right word to describe that crystal tumbler of tastiness.

Their house rules include banning the ordering of blended drinks, dirty martinis and property developers. Were you without a sense of humour you might find the rules to offend, but I feel the line “do not bring anyone here that you wouldn’t leave alone in your own home” is a very valid one.

I can see myself back there soon enough on a date night or with a couple of the girls (or guys, I’m an equal opportunities partier) – besides there’s a whole menu are carefully crafted cocktails that deserve to be sampled.