Eating out:Have you noticed the epidemic of "truffle oil"? It's worse than the rash of coiled pancetta and bottled creme brulee, because truffle oil is a con. With a name such as that you could be forgiven for thinking that it is made using truffles - even the peelings of truffles - but no.
There may be the odd chef who keeps the peelings and infuses them into olive oil, and maybe somewhere, for a vast price, you can buy the real thing. But the flavouring in truffle oil as sold to the trade is made in a laboratory, and a lot of chefs either don't know this or don't care.
Anyway, truffle oil goes with a certain kind of restaurant, and the one that I want to report on this week does not, thank heaven, fall into that doubtful category. The category it does fall into is much smaller: where decent grub, cheerful service and keen prices somehow manage to coincide.
It is the kind of restaurant, in other words, whose regulars will be appalled to see it being reviewed, because, quite understandably, they want to keep it to themselves.
Seven, in the heart of Stoneybatter, Dublin 7, is small. The only way I managed to get a table was to wander in rather early on a Monday evening, so be warned. I left a couple of hours later as a very happy customer, wishing only that the wine list was a great deal better.
Anyway, in this buzzing little corner-site restaurant we kicked off with a couple of glasses of rather nasty Pinot Grigio from an unstated producer, the sort of thing that can cast a pall of gloom over an average meal.
But our starters rose above that. A pile of crispy squid rings served on a well-dressed salad of baby spinach and beet leaves with a dash of soy and a scattering of toasted sesame seeds was exactly the sort of thing that hits the spot when you don't want to cook for yourself.
A buttery pastry case had been filled with tangy feta cheese, black olives and not particularly tasty cherry tomatoes and given a few minutes under the grill before being topped with a little salad of young rocket leaves.
The very discriminating, almost- impossible-to-please companion surprised me by saying that his main course was better than the version served at Blueprint Café in London. I think that's a fairly eloquent comment. It was a grilled breast of chicken with roast red-pepper sauce and nicely chewy Puy lentils.
My rib-eye steak was very generous and remarkable in two respects. It had good flavour and it cost €19.95. How often can you say that?
It was served on a mound of creamy, buttery mashed spud with some crisp French beans that I ate with a slightly guilty conscience (they are hardly local at this time of year) but a lot of pleasure.
If this creme brulee came out of a bottle, I'd sure like to know the name of the supplier. But I'm morally certain that this was created on the premises, in that it seemed exactly like the version we make in our own kitchen. And it was just creme brulee pure and simple, not chocolate creme brulee or chilli creme brulee or any of the other creme brulees that infest the average menu.
Bread-and-butter pudding made, as it should be, from sliced pan and raisins or sultanas was simple, delicious and faultless.
What impresses me about Seven is that the people here clearly want to do simple but interesting food at very fair prices. And I'm also impressed that there are enough people in the greater Stoneybatter area who know a good thing when they see it and don't insist on silly, cheffy stuff from the kitchen.
With a bottle of ripe claret, two glasses of white wine and a couple of double espressos, the bill came to €99.95 before adding a tenner for excellent and friendly service.
Seven, 73 Manor Street, Dublin 7, 01-6334092
WINE CHOICE:Like many poor lists, a lot of the wines here are listed generically, ie without any indication of who makes them. However we did manage to find a decent red, more by luck than by design, in Château de Roques which is a 1er Côtes de Bordeaux 2003 (€26). Pio Cesare Barbera d'Alba (€33) would be no hardship to drink, and Guy Saget Rose d'Anjou, which I seem to remember is fairly dry, is €20. Pere Anselme Châteauneuf-du-Pape is not one of the great names, but not a bad buy at €35. Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc is a good Kiwi version for €26.50, but I'd give the Pinot Grigio a miss at any price, even €19.50 a bottle.