EATING OUT:Authentic pizza in a refreshingly old-style Italian in Rathmines
WHEN THE MOON hits your eye, like a big, pizza pie – that’s amore . . . Rathmines is not quite old Napoli, but Manifesto is a generous slice of, mostly, authentic Italiana on its main drag. Our recent visit found a restaurant filled with chirpy diners breathing in the aroma of fresh, brick oven-baked pizza – as a good aperitif.
On entering, we were offered a table hidden away in a corner that didn’t appeal, so we requested one where we could see what else was going on in the room, and our waiter pleasantly acceded. The only problem with this one, however, was that one of us had to sit on a hard bench, and although cushions had been provided, it wasn’t exactly comfy – choose a table away from the walls, if you can.
Seating issues aside, Manifesto does have qualities that inspire dawdling over dinner. A summery ambient temperature, unassuming staff and inoffensive music all combine to create a very relaxing experience . . . as long as the cutlery-dropping waitress is not within earshot. Seriously, five times, and once an entire basket of spoons, is a bit much really.
The menu is compartmentalised in the Italian tradition – there are antipasti, primi and secondi sections, as well as pizza offerings. I chose from the primi and secondi sections, my companion from the antipasti and pizza. For my primi piatti I had gnocchetti alla boscaiola(€14), home-made potato and nettle dumplings, dressed with a white ragout and Italian sausage. This was a bijou plate of intensely satisfying flavour. In a very positive sense, it reminded me of a rich, slow-cooked beef stew: a comforting meat and potato hit. I couldn't detect any nettle from the bambino gnocchi, but didn't mind as this dish was still super good, stinger or no stinger. For my fellow diner, an order of cured-in-house duck breast marinated in pink pepper with apple compote (€11). This was a dish that would have made Lady Gaga feel underdressed, but in-your-face presentation aside, this mardi gras of quack was fantastic, the gamey bird perfectly complemented by a tart apple compote and slices of crisp, fresh apple.
The wine list is confidently curated, featuring Italian tipples, exclusively. We chose a Valpolicella Ripasso, 2008, (€25) from the Le Tobele winery. Ripasso (meaning repassed) was once seen, unfairly, I think, as a poor man’s method of improving the structure and complexity of Valpolicella, but it has, in recent years, become thoroughly legitimised: Ripasso della Valpolicella receiving its own DOC designation late last year. This one was great for the price, slightly tannic, yet silky smooth, bursting with ripe cherry and a subtle spicy mouth-feel. It was a lot cheaper, and perhaps better value, than the list’s only true Amarone (€44.50), also from Le Tobele.
As a main course, my friend had the Mamy pizza, listed on the menu as having been voted world’s best pizza in 2006 – by whom I’m not sure. This pizza was indeed very good, but certainly not the best I’ve ever had. That award goes to Pizzeria Mozza in LA, where a nettle, salumi felino, and cacio di Roma (sheep’s cheese) number almost brought me to tears last year. I suppose the pizza love child of US/Italian chef Mario Batali and Nancy Silverton, founder of La Brea Bakery, is never going to be a pedestrian experience.
But back to D6. My secondi piatti was a bit of a disappointment. Pan-fried monkfish in saffron and coconut milk, was served with cherry tomato gratin (€22). I think chef may have omitted to season here, as it was face-slappingly bland, the saffron and the coconut dull, with nothing really coming through from the fish in the way of noticeable flavour. The cherry tomatoes were okay, but overall this was a real non-entity. I had asked the waiter about the provenance of this dish before ordering it, he sagaciously revealed that “if chef puts it on the menu, he must have good reason” and to be honest, that didn’t really help.
For desserts, we went the traditional route, tiramisu for me and panna cotta for my companion. Neither were the best we’d ever tasted, but far from the worst. Desserts were €6, apart from the €9 cheese board. Again, presentation was slightly show-offy. I finished with an espresso macchiato, which was cutlery-droppingly strong . . .
Manifesto is likeable; once ubiquitous, this kind of restaurant has, in Dublin at least, been usurped in popularity by the hip, brasserie-by-numbers joints that now haunt the city, and, in all honesty, have become a bit samey. Yes, Manifesto, with its romantic music, parsley garnishes and service that is neither hip nor cool, has a faint whiff of naff nostalgia about it, yet for all that I still left thinking " Grazie mille" in my finest Italian accent. I do wish they'd do something about that bench down at the back though, my posterior is still sore.
Dinner for two, including wine and coffee came to €101. ehiggins@irishtimes.com
