A wet winter evening is enlivened by food that's as good as it sounds in old El Paso, writes CATHERINE CLEARY
It’s tricky being hungry and numerically challenged in Dundalk. Ask for directions to Restaurant 32, and you might be sent to a lovely looking cafe called 23 Seats. There’s a bakery called Number 1. They like their numbers here. And their good news number story at the end of the year was that Dundalk made it on to Fáilte Ireland’s shortlist of the top 10 Tourist Towns. Not bad for a place they used to call El Paso.
Dundalk is a survivor, its shopkeepers standing firm against the magnetic pull of the nappies and booze deals in cross-border supermarkets. I’m visiting with my mum on a dank and dismal night. We’ve browsed a massive antiques shop and visited the cathedral, where they’ve just polished the parquet. It’s a case of things to do in Dundalk when you’re dead early. Then the rain gets the better of us and we head to Restaurant 32, with a short diversion past 23 Seats.
The restaurant is tucked away on Chapel Street, so there is not much passing trade. It’s for people who know it’s there. The front-of-house man (who looks like Dara O Briain’s Dundalk cousin) takes pity on us and opens five minutes before time.
A toasty radiator beside the table takes away the chill and we can see the place is set up for at least two large parties later that evening. It’s a long, narrow room decked out with black leather swivel chairs and a grey banquette along one wall, which is panelled in grey-painted timber. A red wall that frames the bar has a stencil of a stag on it. The other two sides of the room are windows. There are more seats upstairs. The choices on the express menu for €25 are as cheerful a sight as you’ll see, plenty of hearty chunky flavours pitched well for the night that’s in it.
Menus can read better than they taste. Something can happen between the idea and its execution that dials down the delicious. It might be a dip in energy, a little belt-tightening on the ingredients or food that was prepared and then refrigerated long before you sat at your table to eat. The party season is a classic time for that to happen, when restaurants are under pressure to turn tables.
But not in Restaurant 32. The food is as good as it sounds. Three Kilkeel scallops (€12 on the à la carte) are plump, sweet and just caramelised, with a salty smoky haddock brandade, some rocket and caper butter. A poached plum and cranberry salad does that lovely thing of combining a plum that’s been poached into tasting more plummy, with a salty feta, and tartly sweet shots of dried cranberries.
A lemon sole has become a John Dory, which is drenched in a saffron and lobster sauce with lots of firm, vibrant, green samphire and some crab and lobster beignets. These are the only slight disappointments, being a bit grey and bland. Mum’s roast, sticky – two of the best words you can put on a menu – Ardee bacon chop has been boiled and then finished with a glaze. A glistening red cabbage, which has some cranberries hidden in its purple depths, give the required sweetness to set off the salty, tender bacon. Crispy sage and garlic spuds finish it off.
To finish, they do a lovely idea for people who like dessert but find a huge slab of something a bit of a struggle – mini desserts for €4, or a regular one for €6. I get a rich chocolate mousse with salted caramel. The only duff note is a squirt of chantilly cream, which I despatch to the side of the plate, but lose lots of the caramel in the process. A biscuit ice cream cake is very good.
A glass of house merlot, a juice and a coffee, bring the bill to a very reasonable €76.75. I have a lot of respect for restaurants like Number 32. They’re keeping towns alive in tough times and giving visitors a good reason to return.
Restaurant 32, Chapel St, Dundalk tel: 042-933 1113
Music: Easy jazz numbers
Food provenance: Good on location: scallops from Kilkeel, bacon from Ardee
Facilities: Upstairs, small but nice Wheelchair access: Yes but no wheelchair bathroom
SECOND HELPING...:
Damson Diner is another new restaurant on Dublin’s South William Street, where they’re cropping up like dandelions these days. It used to be the South William Bar and is run by the brothers behind nearby Coppinger Row. The music is sternum-rattlingly loud.
We dropped in without a booking one busy night for quick nibble and a drink and liked what we got. Fennel bhaji (€7) came as chunks of deep-fried flavour. It came on a chilli-laced coleslaw that cleared the sinuses. Dish of the night was a bowl of chip-crisp breaded courgettes (€3.50) with horseradish mayo.
Cocktails are a big feature here. I had a gooseberry and elderflower gin spritzer for €5. A beer and a glass of house white brought the bill to €39.90.
Damson Diner, 52 South William St, Dublin 2
