The Lord Edward seafood restaurant serves up a reassuring blast of the past. Tom Doorley hopes it never changes
Far too many places are described as being in a time warp. It usually means simply that they are not entirely in tune with Celtic Tiger Ireland. The real thing, however, the place where you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming of the past, is very rare indeed.
The Lord Edward is generally regarded as an old-fashioned restaurant, but it is much more than that. It really does feel as if you have slipped through one of those apertures you hear about in science fiction, to find yourself way back in, oh, I reckon about 1971. But this is neither here nor there unless you're really allergic to 30-year-old decor. What matters about the Lord Edward is that the seafood is almost always brilliant. Not brilliant in a stripped-down, elementally simple kind of way but brilliant as an example of why the cooking of our parents' or grandparents' generation, when done well, is a joy.
My only worry about the Lord Edward is that it may change. Somebody may suddenly be seized with the notion that it needs a lick of paint, or that the carpet wants upgrading, and before you know where you are the whole time-travel magic will go up in a puff of interior decoration and bleached wood. I have a feeling that, without the environment, the food would soon vanish, too, replaced by lime-scented escabeche of red snapper and other stuff that was way off our radar screens back when the Lord Edward was one of Dublin's only proper restaurants.
This is a place that sees no reason to abandon the classics - the buttery, creamy, cheesy, piped-potato sort of classics - and they ally this old-fashioned form of cooking with seafood of excellent quality and perfect freshness. (Although they tend to overcook the black sole - only very slightly, mind - and at least they are consistent about it.)
Three of us sat down to dinner and revelled in the fact that this was not retro food. It has never changed. Where else do you find prawn cocktail on the menu? Not in many places where you would be prepared to eat, that's for sure. At the Lord Edward it comes in a Paris goblet, and consists of superb Dublin Bay prawns sitting on a bed of iceberg lettuce, beneath a dollop of Marie Rose sauce, with a generous wedge of lemon hung from the side. This brought me back to Christmas dinners long ago, although these prawns were far superior to the ones we used to eat.
Dressed crab comprised excellent claw meat, good mayonnaise and chopped hard-boiled egg served in a scallop shell - not an entirely traditional dressed crab, then, which tends to come in its own shell with brown and white meat. Brown crab meat, it seems, is too much for the average Irish palate. Not for me.
What is too much for me, however, is marinated herring. It belongs with tripe and drisheen: one taste is enough. I was assured that the Lord Edward's version was first-rate, however: not too salty and served with some horseradish on the side. These starters were mopped up with the traditional accompaniment of melba toast and good brown soda bread.
The Lord Edward's take on Sole Véronique was a rich cream sauce, topped with melted cheese and Muscat grapes, covering a fillet of the (slightly overdone) black sole. But there was no doubting the quality of the raw materials. Breaded plaice and a sauce boat of excellent home-made tartare sauce were as good as they were simple; a side order of sauteed potatoes was crisp, dry and lightly salted. A superb prawn thermidor came with piped mash.
With a bottle of South African Chardonnay and one regular coffee - no espresso, needless to say - the bill for three came to €125.60, excluding service. I just hope this great institution never changes.
tdoorley@irish-times.ie
Lord Edward Seafood Restaurant, 23 Christchurch Place, Dublin 8, 01-4542420
WINE CHOICE
Our Bon Vallon Chardonnay sur Lie from de Wetshof (€28.80), unwooded and crisp, is about as wild as this list gets. Louis Latour Mâçon-Lugny (€30.10) is more the order of the day, reflecting the rather staid tastes of the average customer here. Chablis 1er cru Montmain Louis Michel is keenly priced at €46.40, as is JM Roger's Sancerre at €36.45. Hugel's Alsace Riesling (€28.50) is ripe but steely, impeccable with just about anything on the menu, while Champagne Charles Heidsieck (€79) is one of the better grandes marques. I'd steer clear of the house wine, Moreau Blanc and Rouge (€20.15).