RESTAURANTS:The Pig's Ear has a considerable way to go if it is to make an impression on discerning diners, writes Tom Doorley
THE PIG'S EAR is a very good idea. And it's quite a fetching name when we are surrounded with faux French and Italian restaurant nomenclature. It has a reassuring, down-to-earth ring that suggests you are going to get hearty grub sourced from producers who have the correct amount of mud beneath the fingernails. It sounds like just the kind of place I'd love.
I also happen to be a great fan of the duo behind the Ear, so to speak, Andrea Hussey, formerly of L'Ecrivain, and Stephen McAllister, who is best known for his calm and helpful presence in The Restaurantkitchen on RTÉ television. Andrea is one of the most delightful people in the hospitality business and Stephen is a very talented chef.
So how come The Pig's Ear is, well, a bit of a pig's ear? It may improve, of course, but there is a considerable way to go. Service is first class but the food . . . dear me . . . where to start? Actually let's start with the lighting. This restaurant used to be Jacob's Ladder. The main dining room is high-ceilinged and airy and in daylight there's a lovely view of College Park, scene of my youthful athletic triumphs. (There's a deliberate error in that last sentence, just to keep regular readers on their toes.)
Anyway, after dark it would seem a good idea to illuminate the room in a way that is not reminiscent of the light emitted by a bare 60 watt bulb in a large bedsit. This perfectly pleasant room is bathed in the kind of gloom that you usually get in TV dramas that are described as "gritty".
Now the idea behind the menu is delivering good, solid, hearty traditional fare. No fecky food here. Divil a bit of kumquat will you find in your trifle (of which more anon). As ideas go, I'm all for it.
Egg mayonnaise? Do, please, bring it on. Okay, it looks a bit contemporary because each of the three eggs has had an end removed so that they can stand up and be counted. They are bathed in a good, mustardy mayonnaise that is just sufficiently reminiscent of the stuff we got in our childhood (but with a lot more mustard), and there's a sprinkling of traditional paprika and a very now Parmesan crisp. It eats well, as they say. But what's this? The yolks have a halo of grey. Grey is not a colour that gets the gastric juices flowing; hence, for generations, cooks have been advised to boil their eggs and then cool them quickly in cold water. When you're paying €7.95, you expect pristine yellow yolks.
Old fashioned shrimp cocktail - which can be brilliant - was, according to my dining companion, "certainly old fashioned, but not in a good way". There was an awful lot of shredded lettuce, a moderate amount of rather bland Marie Rose sauce and a rather mingy portion of flavourless shrimp. "It certainly brings back memories," was the final comment.
Then bacon and cabbage with parsley sauce, which is one of the best things you can eat with bottled Guinness or off-dry German Riesling. And it's pretty good with a glass of water, too. On such fare was the nation built. Except that the bacon came in two perfectly oval slices, as if the meat had been somehow moulded. And the texture was strangely spongy. Not bacon as I know it. And the parsley sauce, which was as dark as pure chlorophyll, tasted of salt and butter but not of parsley - not at all of parsley. Which prompted me to wonder, "How do they do that?".
The special of the day was a "pork ragout", which involved pieces of meat slightly larger than mince, bathed in an indeterminate sauce and served with fondant potato, the only good thing on the plate.
Sherry trifle looked suitably old-fashioned, presented in one of those glass coupes that you can still buy at parish fêtes. But it didn't taste old-fashioned in that there wasn't even a homeopathic suggestion of sherry. The jelly was bland and contained what appeared to be a tinned strawberry.
A slice of Battenberg cake had me puzzled for a moment. As I struggled to insert a fork into its interior, I remarked that the sponge was remarkably dense. "That's not dense," said the companion, prodding it. "That's just very stale." And so it was.
The bill, with mineral water, two glasses of white wine, a bottle of red and two coffees came to €130.45.
THE SMART MONEY
If you're not choosy about the colour scheme, the egg mayonnaise with some crusty bread, a glass of white wine and coffee would make a pleasant light lunch for less than €20.
WINE CHOICE
This is a good list, chosen with flair and enthusiasm. Highlights include Olivier Merlin's Pinot Noir (€37.95), the lovely pink Bergerie de l'Hortus (€27.95), chunky Ollieux Romanis Cuvée Classique Corbières (€28.95), spicy, round Elias Mora Toro (€33.95), zesty Domaine du Tariquet (€22.95) from Gascony, Félines Jourdan Picpoul de Pinet (€24.95), proper Pinot Grigio (€32.95) from Elena Walch in the Alto Adige, peachy, ultra-ripe Domaine des Homs Viognier (€43), Ogier's Côte Rôtie 2004 (€78.95), and some serious sherry at €4.95 and €5.95 a glass.
tdoorley@irish-times.ie