Eating out:I'm always in two minds about sending stuff back. When I'm off duty I will happily return the offending dish to the kitchen, because, on such occasions, I'm supposed to be enjoying myself. When I'm reviewing it's understood that enjoyment, although eminently possible, is a bonus.
But why my reluctance, in effect, to complain? There are several reasons. Firstly, most Irish people prefer not to cause a fuss. So much so, indeed, that too many restaurateurs assume that complainants are cranks more often that not. Secondly, there is always the intriguing question of how bad the experience will get. If you complain there's a danger that you will disturb the natural flow of horror and awfulness that creates the restaurant's unique style.
But there are times when I abandon all restraint and just refuse, point-blank, to eat what is put before me. Not many times, admittedly. Maybe twice in the past four years.
I did it again at Brasserie Sixty6 when I was sampling the, er, delights of the "business lunch", which goes out at €14.95 and is subject to strict portion control. It's also subject to a lot of imagination, but not necessarily in a good way. The starter, a frittata of chorizo with some beetroot leaves (compulsory now, or so it seems) and some strands of rather wet Parma ham, seemed to have been cobbled together from the stuff left over after the weekend, this being a Monday. There's nothing wrong with this kind of economy, but it helps if the ingredients are grouped according to some kind of logic. I ate it, however. I was hungry.
The main course, of duck confit, turned out to be a very small bit of duck, cut from somewhere in the general leg region, and a few batons of what I think were, technically at any rate, pommes Pont Neuf. In other words the potatoes had been cooked slowly in fat of some kind. But the duck was remarkable. Let's just remind ourselves what a duck confit is all about. It's meant to be duck leg, which is a tough bit of the bird, and it's supposed to be cooked very slowly in duck fat until it becomes very tender. Then it is roasted, to crisp the skin.
In this instance the bit of duck leg had been unceremoniously roasted until it was just done. The flesh, when I managed to hack into it, was pink, which is fine for a duck breast but unheard of when dealing with leg. Surely everyone who works in a restaurant kitchen knows this. And so I sent it back.
By this stage the companion was eating a main course of crayfish salad, which sounds a lot more exciting than it was, and I asked for the same. His starter was pleasant: grilled chunks of lamb, with a curious pink coleslaw that tasted faintly of horseradish, presented in a pitta bread. Both of these dishes were from the main menu.
I'm assured that Brasserie Sixty6 doesn't get its crayfish tails from Lidl, which is where I buy mine, but they seem identical, right down to the dill seasoning. Dill is a fine old herb, but, perhaps because it provides the characteristic scent of gripe water, it can become a bit cloying. And it did in this dish, which involved a very generous helping of tails bathed in mayonnaise and presented on a very pretty fan of thin, crisp apple slices. This is the germ of a good idea.
We noticed that the rotisserie chicken still seems to be a strong seller and that there's a disproportionate number of solo eaters (often a good sign, I find). The wine list, on this occasion at least, seemed light years ahead of the food.
The bill, including a large bottle of mineral water, a bottle of wine and coffees, came to €72, the "business lunch" having been taken off.
Wine choice
Our Tempranillo Rosado Valleoscuro, fruity and just off dry, was a good buy at €22 on this varietal-obsessed list. Actually, there's more than Grenache to the scrumptious Domaine de la Roubine Sablet (€28.95), a Côtes du Rhône with lots of attitude. Château Bauduc, a very fresh white Bordeaux, is Gordon Ramsay's house wine and well worth €29.90. It's good to see a first-class Valpolicella, an antidote to all the bad ones, in Allegrini's Classico (€27.75). Azamor (€26.50), a modern, concentrated Portuguese blend of local grapes with Merlot and Syrah and a generous dollop of oak, is possibly the best-value wine here.
This list is a brave one, as you can tell from the fact that it includes two Grüner Veltliners and three Alsatians. (Not that they bite; it's just that they tend not to sell.) Prices start at €19.50 - not something you see very often - and, excluding champagne, rise to €55.50 for the yummy Saint-Aubin 1er cru from Domaine Langoureau.
Brasserie Sixty6, 66 South Great George's Street, Dublin 2, 01-4005878, www.brasseriesixty6.com