In an ordinary suburban pub first-class ingredients are being subjected to skilled and sensitive cooking - with wonderful resultsm, writes Tom Doorley
LET'S BE VERY CLEAR about this. The subject of this review is a pretty ordinary suburban boozer. I mention this because some of our more delicately-nurtured readers may focus exclusively on certain key phrases, such as "Guilbaud's", "exceptional wines" and "the kind of food which Jamie Oliver would be sure to call 'pukkah'". You can see how they could run away with the wrong idea.
You see, the Eagle House in Terenure does not conform to the general image of a gastropub ("dread phrase", as Wallace Arnold would say). There are, as far as I can gather, no blackboards and no resting actors with ponytails filling in as waiters. Instead, what you get is very well-executed food, simple and chunky, the sort of thing you'd get at home if home had a very good cook who is choosy about raw materials. And you get it, as I stress, in a very ordinary boozer where they have a pub quiz on Tuesday evenings (you have been warned).
Three of us sat down to eat and we shared and mixed. Fishcakes were, as so many of them are, mainly mashed spud but, weird as it may seem, they were actually feather-light croquettes and tasted strongly of actual fish. A smooth, pink chicken liver paté was served in a big ramekin beneath a layer of clarified butter. It came with lots of exceptionally good toasted sourdough and some tart, yet sweet, Cumberland sauce. Mackerel, perfectly fresh and white-fleshed, was simply fried and presented on warm potato chunks tossed in a good vinaigrette.
By this point, my two companions decided to relax. Like myself, they had decided that, despite the pedestrian surroundings, something rather unusual was going on in the kitchen. Like good raw materials being subjected to sensitive, skilled cooking. Unusual, or what?
As main courses, we shared a couple of pies, both presented beneath a lovely crust of buttery, flaky pastry and both - this being our only quibble - being a bit light on liquid. The fillings, however, were otherwise first-rate: silky shin beef, bathed in a Guinness sauce and a creamy chicken affair. Both tasted intensely of the meat on which they were based (all meat here is sourced from organic butcher, Danny O'Toole, whose premises is just across the road). The chicken version was indistinguishable from what we have at home and our organic chickens come from Dan Ahern near Midleton).
It's tempting to describe these pies as being just the sort of thing you want when you are neither willing nor able to cook at home, but this assumes that you're used to a pretty high standard of domestic cooking. On the law of averages, the food here will be much, much better than what most of us cook in our own kitchens.
The chicken pie came with a little risotto of barley and squash, which was absolutely delicious. It may have looked like a token gesture, but it was, in fact, a glorious dish in its own right. Proof, as if we needed it at this stage, that there is serious talent in the kitchen.
As, of course, there is. The stoves are manned by Olivier Quenet, formerly of Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud and one of the people behind La Maison des Gourmets in Castle Market. He maintains that he is determined to show Irish people that they can eat well from local produce at modest prices.
Details make a huge difference, such as the baked potatoes topped with broccoli and melted red cheddar, which are as unprepossessing as they sound but taste wonderful (the spud is enriched with crème fraîche).
The menu is well suited to the coming winter, with lots of hearty dishes (including tripe and onions which, I'm afraid, is a bridge too far for me; the smell of tripe sets off an automatic gag reflex), and there is nothing prissy or dainty about the food. I suspect a huge amount of thought has gone into it and the result is what the saintly Jamie Oliver (have you seen what he has endured in Rotherham?) would be sure to call "pukkah".
The bill for three well-fed people, including two bottles of wine, came to a remarkable €87.
tdoorley@irish-times.ie
THE SMART MONEY
Look, if three people can eat well and consume two bottles of wine for a total of €87, I rest my case. The food here is very much in tune with these difficult times.The very short list is sourced from Charles Derain, former sommelier at Guilbaud's and from Simon Tyrrell, doyen of the Rhône in Ireland. Prices are very, very keen. Our wines were the ripe yet minerally Lapalu Macon-Pierreclos at €23 (or €6 per glass) and the silky, full Domaine Aphillantes Côtes du Rhône (€19 or €5 per glass). This is more exciting than it may sound at first - a restaurant offering stuff that is way above "house wine" quality for house wine prices. They are all exceptional wines. Watch out for peachy, crisp Dona Rosa Albarino (€27) and Domaine de Montvac Gigondas (€40).