Ireland on Sunday
Feb 28th, 1999
Journeyman - Frank Shouldice
From road-side take-away to 17 store
giant
The name first came to Barry McDonald as
something of a joke. There he was, foostering around his caravan, busily
converting it into a roadside diner and feeling conditions a little cramped.
It was like living in a cupboard, he joked,
as the nursery rhyme tumbled across his mind. Mother Hubbard's was born.
At the time he had just wrapped up his
short-lived fashion shop in Naas. What next? Well he'd done stints in various
restaurants except, in 1977, he wanted to set up his own place. A drive
out the N4 brought him to a picturesque lay-by between Enfield and Kinnegad,
a smidgen of Co. Kildare poking between Meath and Westmeath. Under a copse
of birch trees (now gone) the idea took hold.
But first, a little market research. He
recalls parking in the lay-by, sitting over a heater in his Mini van for
a week and "counting the lorries going by."
The high tally confirmed his intuition,
calculating that for business to boom he needed less than 1% of passers-by
to stop.
"Anything before Kinnegad has got to work
because the lorries all split at Kinnegad," he says, explaining his choice
of location. "It was very elementary to me."
Originally from Melbourne, the former fashion
designer had become tired of the catwalk and, travelling via England, ended
up here, his father's native country. Where was he from? I ask.
"Oh I don't know," shrugs Barry, now a
settled resident in the midland townland of Broadford, Co. Kildare.
So he set up shop roadside - a small caravan
cooking take-away food for truckers - and parked his mobile home nearby
on less than an acre bought from a neighbour. "It took six months before
it really got going. Then I knew it was home and dry."
He ran Mother Hubbard's for 13 years, extending
it modestly with a canopy sheltering two small tables - primitive comforts
in Leinster's outback but the novelty of drive-by lunching meant most of
his customers ate inside their vehicles.
The growing appeal of his celebrated sausage
sandwiches drew between 200 and 300 vehicles every day, prompting Mayoman
John Healy to make an offer.
McDonald was ready to sell so he got out.
The new owner built a 46-seat restaurant but sold it five years later to
Loughrea businessman Patrick Sweeney, a franchise-holder with Supermac's
at the time. The operation has since developed beyond all recognition.
Expanded across three acres, Mother Hubbard's
is arguably Ireland's only real truck stop. When I arrive at 7am there
are seven trucks parked overnight in a safe area monitored by closed-circuit
TV.
Unlike similar facilities in England, this
one is free. Showers and a TV room are also provided for truckers while
the restaurant, open to all, is widely appreciated for reasonable price,
good food and friendly staff. Coach driver Padraic Feherty of Moycullen,
Co. Galway, remembers Barry McDonald's original caravan site. "Squatters'
rights!" he laughs, seeing it now. This morning he unloads his minibus
of sleepy Dublin-bound passengers for a breakfast stop. He has another
trip scheduled from Galway this afternoon but, like many drivers, he usually
makes this his rest stop.
"Sure if you drive west from here where
would you stop? The middle of the road?" asks Tubbercurry, Co. Sligo driver,
John McAndrew. "Once you pass Longford, where can you pull over and know
you're safe? There's no recognised places at all."
It's a familiar complaint among the big
wheels. Gone are the days when Kinnegad town provided such an oasis for
drivers. Too much traffic in the town's busy main street. Cities are too
much hassle and few truckers would risk parking overnight in Dublin. Besides,
an early start from here can have them down the docks within 75 minutes.
Surprisingly, truckers no longer provide
the main business at Mother Hubbard's with lorry-less Sundays (and All-Ireland
matches) being the restaurant's busiest.
"Our bread-and-butter is those on the road
- truckers and company reps," says operations manager David Smith, explaining
how it thrives as a place for families as well as for truckers.
"From our point of view, a trucker is
on the road all day every day so he needs food more than someone who's
going home for dinner. Him coming here means very good food because he's
living on it."
Such was the thinking behind Patrick Sweeney's
plans to expand the franchise. Mother Hubbard's is already up and serving
in Cashel, Co. Tipperary and Kilcolgan, Co. Galway.
"When we built the new restaurant in Cashel
we looked at the truckers first," continues Smith. "If we got them in,
they would look after the rest."
They wanted to install a petrol station
on site but were refused planning permission at first attempt. The company
will try again, and seek to build a 40-bed travel lodge and/or a warehousing
facility around the restaurant.
For now, it's all go: About 2,000 customers
a day, some 11,000 eggs every week, two kitchen shifts from 5.30am to 11pm,
employing 65 full-time staff. With the operation growing steadily, they
target four restaurants within 18 months, 17 Mother Hubbard's around the
country by 2004.
"In a couple of years' time, we'll be as
big as anyof the fast food chains in Ireland," asserts Smith.
It's a confident claim, far too big and
far too bold to fit back inside Barry McDonald's cupboard.
Back to News