Cornucopia, 19 Wicklow Street, Dublin 2: A popular veggie restaurant where the price is right
THERE ARE TWO comments by journalist and critic AA Gill of which I'm rather fond. Of Starbucks, he has said that asking Americans to make coffee is like asking them to draw a map of the world. And he has defined vegetarians as people "who take pleasure in not eating things".
Well, there's certainly something in the latter. I can understand people not eating meat because they are disgusted by it or because they can't bear the idea of killing a living creature (although I wonder how they would feel about rat infestation). I can't understand people who never, ever eat meat because they disapprove of factory farming (there's plenty of properly reared meat out there), or because feeding animals grain that could feed people is wrong (they have a very compelling point but, again, it's possible to get ethical meat).
Some of the finest things you can eat don't involve meat, but not many of them, admittedly, are vegan. Denis Cotter's meatless Café Paradiso in Cork is one of the best places to eat in all of Ireland. But there is a joylessness about the general run of vegetarian food in this part of the world, with an emphasis on bulk, fibre and aggressive wholesomeness that I find a little uninviting.
Curiously enough, I cheerfully go without meat for days on end and when I eat meat at home, I try to ensure that it's happy meat, ethical meat, local meat. I can't claim, like Withnail's Uncle Monty that "as a youth, I used to weep in butchers' shops" (I will not repeat what he said about a young carrot) but I do tend to lose my appetite when faced with a heap of raw animal protein.
But I must be a carnivore (we all are, just look at your teeth) because when I was two, my mother found me stuffing fistfuls of raw mince into my mouth, without, I'm ashamed to say, the onions, capers and raw egg yolk that should attend this delicacy.
My friend and colleague Paolo Tullio is, like myself, an enthusiastic omnivore, so it may seem strange that we lunched together at Cornucopia prior to filming the last programme in the forthcoming series of The Restaurant. But we are prepared to try anything once.
And I'm happy to say that Paolo agreed with me that Cornucopia's polenta is very (I was going to say bloody) good. It was soft in the middle, crunchy without and studded with tiny, salty olives. The chef, Alistair Little, has commented that polenta must be the most unhealthy dish in the world because it requires so much butter and Parmesan to make it palatable, but what the hell?
The tagine of vegetables weighed in on the worthy side with big chunks of carrot and rather daintier florets of cauliflower (but no detectable fennel as advertised) bathed in a pleasantly spicy, coriander-infused sauce, served on a less than wonderful lemon couscous.
These main courses came on plates that were piled high - not just with the dishes themselves but with salads - an okay mixed one, a rather unpleasant rice noodle one, and pleasant if rather large-bore coleslaw. Presentation may not be everything, but it does help.
Soups were a mixed bag. A chunky vegetable version with chickpeas was bland, a mushroom and parsley one tasted of celery. Weird. And very stringy.
A shared slice of silken tofu tart with lemon, ginger and raspberry looked great but tasted strange. I'm quite fond of tofu; it's much more natural than the average chicken breast and absorbs more flavour. But the main flavour here seemed to be citronella, the hallmark of industrial grade cheesecake. And insect repellent, come to think of it. Espressos were truly terrible, overcooked, entirely devoid of crema, and they introduced a note of true suffering into an otherwise passable meal.
Cornucopia is always packed and all of the customers appear to be in rude health. It's clearly very good at doing what it does and you get a lot of food for your money. We split the bill. My half, with a glass of wine and a bottle of Italian mineral water, came to €23.70.
• Cornucopia at Home - The Cookbookis published by Cork University Press, €39
THE SMART MONEY
You can have a big bowl of soup (a meal in itself), good bread and a glass of wine and pay little more than a tenner.
WINE CHOICE
The wines, all organic, are excellent and fairly priced at €21.50 a bottle or €5.25 a glass. Alta Alella Rosado from Tarragona is a fruit-filled yet dry rosé; Biuro Sangiovese is better than many a Chianti; and Domaine de la Batteuse Chardonnay is light but elegant.