MELOSINA LENOX-CONYNGHAMstays at The Old Convent
THE ROAD from Lismore, in Waterford, to Clogheen, in Tipperary, goes over the Vee, the pass through the Knockmealdowns, which is one of the most spectacular routes in Ireland.
The hills are covered by Rhododendron ponticum, an iniquitous species that is as invasive as the grey squirrel but makes the hillside glow with colour in the early summer.
From the Vee you look down on a small lake, for though the heroine of the legend Petticoat Loose is condemned to empty it with a thimble, she has not yet succeeded – and this summer must have been a real setback for her.
Across the valley a magical patchwork of green and gold fields stretched to the Galtees. I should have walked along the trails, but I might have been like William Penn (after whom Pennsylvania is named), who in January 1670 “was lost on the mountain, fain to grope our way. At last got over by many wonderful precipices and came to Clogheen with another guide from the foot of the mountain”.
He mentions that he “supped at Clogheen at the inn of William Lawford” (another Quaker), but as he does not mention what he ate, the pub was not, I think, a gourmet hideaway – unlike the Old Convent, on the outskirts of the town on the road to the Vee.
The building was a surprise, being a tall Victorian institutional villa that makes no effort to blend with the landscape. Dermot and Christine Gannon have done wonders in transforming the original austere interior into comfortable and attractive rooms, however. A long double drawing room has
an unobtrusive bar; on the other side of the hall is the dining room in what was the chapel.
My bedroom, in the front of the house, had a small lobby and large bathroom. The bedroom was decorated in off-white, with blue pillows scattered on the bed. The simple decor made the most of the space, for the room was dominated by three long windows, each with two lots of curtains and a blind.
One jarring note, I thought, were fire regulations printed under the jokey heading of Mother Superior Rules, a heavy-handed allusion to the building’s previous existence as a convent.
The bathroom, with a black-and-white floor, had a bath facing the window. I lay like a film star amid scented bubbles, looking out at the heather-covered hillside.
If I had felt like a snack in the middle of the night, there was a little kitchen where I could have made tea or coffee, or helped myself to fruit, while browsing through shelves of books and DVDs.
The eight-course tasting dinner is the Old Convent’s raison d’etre, as Dermot is a superb cook. I had invited some friends to join me, as I had not fancied sitting by myself while plate after plate was laid in front of me.
Actually, the Old Convent was so relaxed and friendly that I would not have minded – and need not have packed my pearls in order to impress the other diners.
I had thought of bringing my mother’s fox fur, a long cigarette holder and a slinky backless dress – though when I started to assemble this outfit, the moths had eaten most of the fox fur, it was impossible to squeeze me into the slinky dress and, of course, I would not be allowed to use the cigarette holder.
The dinner menu does not offer a choice (unless you have told them you are vegetarian). Our meal began with a tiny cone containing smoked salmon, crab, pistachios and beetroot.
The idea had only crossed my mind that I could do with another when the most mouth-watering salad of lamb fillet, ricotta, melon, candied pecans and caramelised garlic was set before me. A velvety soup was served in what looked like a doll’s teacup.
By now I really appreciated the tasting menu. Dunmore East scallops, lime sorbet, scrumptious beef fillet and I could still fit in – just – three little bowls of lemon posset, strawberries and hot chocolate.
“An exquisite meal,” said one of my guests; “outstanding” was the other verdict, with which I concurred wholeheartedly, as it had indeed been delicious, well chosen and beautifully presented.
Breakfast next morning was another gastronomic delight. The food is sourced as much as possible from around about – the Gannons are lucky that Ballybrado, the organic farm, is just a few kilometres down the road.
When I glanced through the visitors’ book, many of the guests, like the food, had come from within a radius of 60km, which is a recommendation in itself.
I have purchased some Prize Bonds in the hope that my winnings will take me back to the the Old Convent.
WhereThe Old Convent, Mount Anglesby, Clogheen, Co Tipperary, 052-7465565, theoldconvent.ie.
WhatAward-winning restaurant with rooms.
RoomsSeven.
Best ratesBed and breakfast from €85 per person sharing; single supplement €40. From €125pps for BB and the tasting menu on Thursdays in October.
RestaurantEight-course menu served on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, €65; Irish-style bento boxes served from Wednesday to Sundays, €25.
Child-friendlinessUnsuitable for children.