The ceiling lights in Snaffles restaurant at Castle Leslie look like flapper dresses. Tiered Perspex creations, they hang out of the vaulted timber roof of the refurbished lodge, on the edge of the Monaghan village of Glaslough. It’s a Roaring Twenties vibe that starts with the restaurant’s name and is topped off with a table of gins of the world in front of the open kitchen.
Snaffles is in the lodge rather than the castle itself. Downstairs, in Conor’s Bar, we’ve already spotted 97-year-old Jack Leslie (the fourth Baronet) in conversation with some visitors. And if you don’t pick up on Castle Leslie’s schtick of history and eccentricity, the tartan waistcoats of the excellent young waiting staff are there to remind you.
There was a time in Irish cooking when the glamour of the surroundings would have supplied a free pass to the kitchen. “Forget the food. Look at the cornicing,” was the mantra. But hotels are taking food more seriously now. The Michelin star that recently landed at the Lady Helen in Kilkenny’s Mount Juliet was a real sign that an old hotel diningroom is no longer the place where cooking ambitions go to moulder and die.
We’re at Castle Leslie for a family weekend, tramping up in wellies like Flurry Knox from the stable wing to the lodge for breakfast each morning. We’re dining in the same room tonight, and they manage the transition from breakfast room to restaurant with a combination of gin (it’s not served at breakfast), candles and acres of white linen.
An appetiser sets us on track for a good meal. It’s a slice of creamy white smoked chicken parfait and a “wee Caesar salad”, a spoonful of matchstick sized lettuce shards and other tiny ingredients.
The cooking in Snaffles takes food that's been eaten here for generations and applies some modern kitchen tricks. A Big House cook had to be inventive when someone landed a bucket of eels, a still warm rabbit and a deer on to her table. It's no surprise to read on the website that chef Andrew Bradley has been inspired by the Castle Leslie Estate Cook Book , "a compilation of dog-eared family recipes dating back for centuries".
So there’s a gorgeous starter of smoked eel pieces lying draped over a bright pink beet risotto with three sweet discs of beetroot arranged between spoons of pink beet foam. The pieces of Lough Neagh eel are delightfully smokey, and anchovy soft rather than wellie-boot rubbery.
A triangle of rabbit terrine, wrapped in ham, sits proudly on a disc of brioche. It has a mousse rather than stringy texture, and a pear chutney has been laced with truffle to take you on a rummage through the forest floor, neatly balanced with pickled girolles to keep the flavours from getting too musty.
There’s magic in the idea of eating a wild animal that recently roamed the fields and woodland around us. My main course of roast loin of estate venison does the majestic meat more than justice. It’s served as a luscious row of meltingly soft discs on a sweet, juicy bed of pickled red cabbage. It’s accompanied by an impressive vegetable side dish of samphire and a cumin-fried clump of cauliflower, which is as tasty as a hot bhaji and one in the eye for every floret of dishwater cauliflower I’ve ever struggled to eat. Liam’s Fermanagh saddleback pork is an equally masterful plate of belly and fillet, with an apple and prune chutney, and chunky quince and black pudding dressing.
The sacrifice of sharing a dessert, a poached pear concoction with a perfectly silky rather than gritty fruit at its heart, is mitigated by a nifty plate of petit fours, which our boys fall on happily after they’ve finished their ice cream and yoghurt desserts. My Dingle Gin and tonic, served at the start of the meal in a wine glass the size of a goldfish bowl, constitutes most of my dessert. It all feels very Great Gatsby.
After a great meal I have one quibble with Snaffles Restaurant. The offering for children is on the plain side of basic. Perhaps breaded chicken, fish or sausages and chips without a sign of a vegetable gives parents a night off from nagging. But it would be nice to see more imagination here.
Dinner for five with half a bottle of wine and a gin and tonic came to €186.40.
Snaffles Restaurant
Castle Leslie Estate, Glaslough, Co Monaghan
Tel: 047-88100
THE VERDICT
7.5/10. A stylish and delicious meeting of old and new
Facilities: Good
Music: None
Food provenance: Excellent. Lots of Monaghan producers, including Sillis green veg and Arthur Mallon with seafood from Keenan's in Belfast
Wheelchair access: Yes
Vegetarian options: on request
