Rabbit is the next big thing on menus, but the one served at Dali's is too tame for Tom Doorley
You can usually tell when a restaurant supplier is pushing a new product. There was a brief fashion for little coils of pancetta some time ago. There have been scattered outbreaks of black-truffle sightings, and now the must-have item is rabbit.
The common-or-garden bunny, cute as it may seem from a distance, is a curse in my part of the country. Unless a plant is armour-plated it will be demolished, chewed up and digested not once but twice. Rabbits have rather unsavoury dietary habits, their vegetarianism notwithstanding.
Anyone who wants to cull the little savages is very welcome, by appointment, to have a go at my personal bunny population. Around where I live the local dogs, generally, yawn and look the other way when they see a rabbit. There are just too many of them. It's either us (or, more precisely, our vegetable garden) or them.
Eating bunny is a kind of revenge, but unfortunately the version now appearing on a menu near you doesn't taste of very much, because it is farmed, and makes supermarket chicken seem quite interesting. The real, wild, Irish version has buckets of flavour - perhaps too much for most people - and it's both free-range and free of charge, bar the cartridge.
The rabbit at Dali's in Blackrock, Co Dublin, tasted of very little. It was described as a saddle but was, in fact, a loin. Pedantic, perhaps, but at Dali's prices we should expect more precision. A few sausage-shaped pieces of bland bunny with figs and creme fraiche simply aren't worth €14.
Our other starter, at the same price, reached dizzy heights of silliness in that it was crabmeat blended (or minced) with roast chicken. I'm still trying to figure out why. The effect was to reduce the taste of crab while delivering no discernible taste of chicken. Why would anyone want to do this? It came with quince jelly and pickled white radish (or mooli), both of which tasted of more than the main act. Surf and broiler house; whatever next?
A meatless main course of crisp and strongly flavoured celeriac rosti, topped with a twice-baked mushroom souffle with pecorino, was a decent dish, but it was far from outstanding and cost €22. Celeriac seems to be in fashion, which is good news for this delicious and hitherto neglected winter root.
A chunk of perfectly cooked and meaty halibut was encased in a crisp, spicy and rather salty batter and served on a round of what appeared to be baked potato, and various indeterminate vegetables, with a light but pleasantly buttery bearnaise. A competent main course for €26.
One dessert sufficed, and it was probably the dish of the evening. This comprised a little lemon-flavoured polenta cake with the attractive grittiness of corn meal, served with a syrup of Pineau des Charentes, the French blend of grape juice and Cognac. Adding lots of little chunks of preserved stem ginger was an inspired idea.
With a couple of glasses of Chablis 1er cru (a rather blowsy 2003), a bottle of red Bergerac, an espresso and an Americano, the bill came to €144.25 before service. This is more than this rather ordinary meal merited.
Dali's, 63-65 Main Street, Blackrock, Co Dublin, 01-2780660
WINE CHOICE This is a pleasantly rambling and eclectic list. Our Chablis 1er Cru Les Vaillons 2003 (€9 a glass, €48 a bottle) was overly ripe and lacked acidity, but there's a Picpoul de Pinet (€6 a glass) that would not suffer that problem. Our Court-les-Muts Bergerac 2000 (€29) was a keen, clarety buy. Brocard's zesty Sauvignon de Saint-Bris (€29) is a good Sançerre substitute, while Bonny Doon Pacific Rim Riesling (€34), like all Randall Grahm's wines, is a bit too dear for what it is. The Kiwi Felton Road Riesling (€48), on the other hand, is very serious, as is Domaine de Monteillet Condrieu (€78), one of the ultimate Viogniers. The rich and rustic Domaine Alary Cairanne 2003 (€32) and the silky Aleno Cigales Tempranillo (€40) are excellent winter warmers. Domaine des Baumard Cuvée Ancienne (€5 a glass) is a blend of old vintages of sweet Loire Chenin Blanc.