Dinner was expensive, but worth it. Tom Doorley finds a precocious talent at the stove in Ranelagh
Times change, chefs come and go. A place that produced celestial grub on my last visit might by now have decided to reposition itself to take advantage of the still-large market for meat and three soggy veg with squeezy-bottle filigree. You can see why I tend to be cautious when asked to recommend a restaurant.
Having mentioned Bodega in Waterford a few weeks ago, I have to report that on a recent visit I sorely missed Arnaud Mary's cooking and, in his absence, had a disappointing meal. I had not known that Arnaud left Bodega almost a year ago and has set up a splendid bakery (La Boulangerie, 051-843767) a few doors away on John Street.
It's strange to think that Mint, in Dublin, used to be Zucchini, and it's even stranger, perhaps, to think of how much clear blue water has been put between the two in about 18 months. Zucchini was, let's face it, pretty awful, while Mint is, by Dublin standards at any rate, pretty well cutting-edge. Same owner, which shows that if you recruit the right people and let them get on with it, you can work wonders.
Oliver Dunne, who, despite his tender years, has worked with many of the grandest culinary names in London (latterly at Shane Osborn's temple to food, Pied à Terre), is running one of Dublin's more impressive kitchens at Mint. And the front-of-house staff have a lofty efficiency that is rarely seen in the capital.
Mint reminds me a little of one of my favourite restaurants, Chez Bruce in Wandsworth, but it differs in certain respects: the tables are better spaced, the food is a touch more cheffy, the wine list is not in the same league and the prices are marginally keener. It's easy to see why the chattering classes love it.
And I loved the bold flavours of my cep-and-pumpkin lasagne with pumpkin purée and cep foam. Yes, foam. It's that kind of place. This dish was clever without being smart, with the faint sweetness of pumpkin enhancing the earthy, almost meaty character of my favourite mushroom. And the pasta balanced silkiness and substance with perfect poise.
Curry-scented scallops with cauliflower purée, pickled cauliflower and a Maury reduction was pretty good but, to be frank, a little too smart - as in, what we were told not to be when we were at primary school. Too clever, a bit glic, if you know what I mean. It was good to see a seasonal vegetable being used so prominently, but good scallops don't benefit from being, er, lightly curried, and dished up with an overly-vinegary mush of this winter brassica, albeit in the daintiest little smudges. Much the same could be said of the Maury reduction, based on a sweet red wine. But - and here is the nub of it - this dish was no great hardship to eat.
Roast monkfish was overpowered by intense filaments of braised oxtail, but a combination of Jerusalem artichoke and roast salsify (not a vegetable we see very often) contributed an attractive and slightly sweet earthiness. A "vanilla cappuccino" (foam again) was not, as you may be thinking, a redundant flourish.
A pithivier (essentially, a kind of pie based on very fine, buttery pastry) of wild mushrooms and Roquefort with a sage-infused beurre blanc was quite delicious, but, were I to judge this dish by the exacting standards that Dunne would, I'm sure, want me to apply, I would have to say that it lacked subtlety and nuance. The Roquefort won outright and took no prisoners.
Puddings were excellent: a frangipane plum tart and a nougat parfait with berry coulis.
The bill may seem heavy, but this was one of those rare occasions when shameless self-indulgence seemed appropriate. It won't happen again for quite a while. With coffee, mineral water, a bottle of Saint-Joseph, a half bottle of Jurançon Sec and two glasses of dessert wine, the damage was €176 excluding service. At lunch you can have a main course for €15, two courses for €21 or three for €25; and the evening table d'hote runs from 6 p.m. until 8 p.m. Tuesday to Thursday, with three courses for €35.
Mint, 47 Ranelagh Village, Dublin 6, 01-4978655, www.mintrestaurant.ie
WINE CHOICE A concise list, leaning heavily towards France, starts at €20 for an Ardèche Chardonnay and a Pays d'Oc Merlot for €21. Selected from three small merchants, notably Le Caveau in Kilkenny, there are some fairly-priced gems such as Meyer-Fonné Gewürztraminer Reserve (€34), Brocard Sauvignon de St Bris (€29) and the lovely dry but honeyed Château Jolys Jurançon Sec (€26.50/€16.50 half), of which we had a half-bottle (see Mary Dowey's column on page 30 for details of where you can buy this). Château Noaillac 1998, a Médoc cru bourgeois, is a decent buy at €34, but we were extravagant and enjoyed the fragrant Syrah of Yves Cuilleron's St Joseph Les Pierres Seches 2001 at €44 - not a bad price for a very fine wine. Brumaire's stunning, Sauternes-like Pacherenc-du-Vic-Bilh (€8) was a great way to finish.