RESTAURANTS:A cocoon of authentic French style in the shadow of Dublin Castle inspires devotion
A LOT OF restaurants are generally liked but very few are actually loved. Loved as in having a devoted following who will defend them against any sling or arrow that might be thrown. I asked one of my regular sharers of the nosebag - the ultra-fastidious one - to come with me to Chez Max the other day and there was an ominous silence. Eventually he gave voice.
"I'd rather not," he said. And I raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You see," he explained, "I just adore that little place and, well, if you don't like it on the night I'd be a bit embarrassed."
Not many restaurants inspire that sort of loyalty. Those that do are more like clubs, really. And very few restaurants, when their name is mentioned, always draws a smile. One of pleasure, not of derision. But Chez Max is like that. Universal approval from everyone I asked about it in the course of a week.
I think I can see why. What Chez Max does is not, in itself, ambitious. But they do it brilliantly. It's a French bistro with a large enough menu of the ususal classics and they have somehow created, in the very shadow of Dublin Castle, a little Gallic outpost. It couldn't be more French if it smelt of Gitanes and Ricard. I was going to say that you wouldn't be terribly surprised to see Jean-Paul Sartre firing himself up on black coffee and alcohol, but that really would be rather scary.
Anyway, to cut to the chase and to save you having to read my report to the bitter end, I have joined the legion of devoted followers of Chez Max.
I like the relative darkness, the smells emanating from the kitchen, the menu, the friendly service and cocoon-like atmosphere.
But I also loved my dozen snails. Now eating snails is largely an excuse for consuming garlic butter, but there is no shame in that. I would argue that snails, even smothered in garlic butter, have a subtle flavour of their own, but there you are.
They were lovely. Sizzling, served in the shell, with tongs and a prong. And plenty of bread for mopping.
And then moules mariniere, which would have been perfect had they come a little hotter. But this is a mere detail. They were plump, the creamy liquor was just gorgeous and they were very, very plentiful. My only further quibble was that the chips would have been much better had they been thin and very crisp in what I always consider the the French way. The ones that appeared, however, were no hardship.
The companion - the very cynical one, not the ultra-fastidious one as it turned out - was seduced into silence by his starter of quail stuffed with walnuts, bathed in a rich, winey gravy. It would have made a main course for me.
And then came an absolutely impeccable buf bourguignon, every bit as good as we make it at home which, all modesty aside, is praise indeed, because we spare nothing in the pursuit of this comforting dish. Chunks of tender beef, lardons of bacon, bits of carrot and baby onions, all in a deep, rich sauce made from lots and lots of red wine and seasoned to perfection. Oh yes, and served with creamy mash. This is true comfort.
A moratorium should be declared on the spread, nay epidemic, of crème brûlée. It should be confined to restaurants in which it's appropriate, made on the premises, and not mucked about with strange flavours. The version at Chez Max would then be licensed to continue, demonstrating how it should be done.
With a glass of rosé, a glass of Cahors, mineral water and a brace of coffees, the bill came to €82. I want to go back. Right now. I have become a true believer.
Wine Choice
The list is short but more than adequate and, naturally, all French. My glass of rosé was from Bordeaux's Château de Sours (€7 or €29.50 a bottle) and there's a house rose for €6 or €22.50. The lovely Château Sainte Eulalie Minervois is €28 and there's an Alsace Pinot Noir, which you don't see every day, from Bruno Sorg at €34 and a grand gru Gewurztraminer from Paul Zinck at €42.50. An unascribed Bourgogne Pinot Noir would need to be good for €38, but I suspect it is. If the Champagne is from the Gobillard that I know, it's a lovely wine at €60 a bottle or €9.50 a glass.