Heading for Connemara on a weekend away, the temptation was to barrel through Galway and not stop until we were perched at the bar in O'Dowds of Roundstone. Instead, we stopped off in Clarinbridge to try out Conor Sexton's Old Schoolhouse Restaurant. This is a striking terracotta building just outside the village that still carries its national-school name in Irish and the date it was built, 1944, on a plaque high up on the wall.
Clearly, lots of money has been spent turning it into a restaurant, and though it's almost a year old it looks brand new with its bright exterior and a smart, landscaped and spotlit garden to the side, with tables and chairs set out in anticipation of good weather.
It's set a little bit above the road with steps leading up to the door, but there is wheelchair access through a garden door on the other side. Inside is a warm, pinetrimmed lobby and then it's on into the bar, where the combination of cinnamon walls, muted green seats, candles lit on wrought-iron stands in the big, old fireplace, and bottles gleaming on the pine-dresser shelves behind the bar gives an instantly welcoming feel. Our coats were taken and hung beside a large, darkened fish tank heaped with oysters. Soon we were sitting down, perusing menus handsomely wrapped in opulent birds-eye-maple effect covers.
So far, so good. We were too late for the four-course early bird menu at £20, so there was nothing for it but to tackle the a la carte. Nothing mould-breaking on the menu but it all sounded good and well balanced. Smoked Salmon on a Potato Pancake with Scallion and Dill Cream Cheese (£6.50), Pan-fried Goat's Cheese in Garlic and Herb Breadcrumbs with Baby Spinach Salad (£6); Crispy Cantonese Crab with Oriental Salad (£6.50) were all tempting but, it being Clarinbridge, it had to be oysters - a plate of Galway Bay Oysters farmed locally, served nude, alongside Pacific Oysters cooked under a Champagne Saboyen Sauce (£7.50).
An urge for meat made David veer towards something stronger - Chilled Pork Fillet and Black Pudding Roulade. After the business of choosing was over, we were left quite some time to anticipate the food, though we were kept company by an agreeable Montes Alpha Chardonnay from Chile, a rich, honey-tasting wine that was worth its £19 and took us right through the meal.
Eventually, we were brought to our table through a door with wobbly glass inset with `Rang I' inset in coloured glass. Now that brought back memories of Ring College but nothing could have been further from a bleak, draughty schoolroom than the diningroom. In fact, this is a new extension to the building, a big, airy room with high windows screened by wooden blinds, a vaulted, pine ceiling and the same warm, terracotta walls decorated with colourful abstract prints. The acoustics are good: it's not loud and clattery; Nat King Cole sang softly somewhere overhead; and though we were sitting quite close to two other groups, sadly we couldn't hear a thing.
Tabasco sauce, Lea and Perrins and plain malt vinegar in a pretty bottle are lined up on the table, which is an honest state of affairs. I would have liked to have tried the vinegar on some chips but there didn't seem to be any on the menu. A big basket with several fresh breads was offered and a jug of iced water arrived promptly. I had a chunky slice of brown bread that was as fresh as could be.
Native oysters - the small, round ones as opposed to those really big ones that feature in the Guinness advert - are too nice to bake and three of them slipped down beautifully. The bigger gigas, or Pacific oysters, were hidden under a blanket of saboyen sauce that had firmed up to the consistency of a light omelette. It was a nice idea but I'm not sure it did much for the oysters.
David's roulade was first rate, and looked very pretty on the plate - six or so discs of pale pork wrapped around smooth, black pudding arranged around a tiny, neat stack of apple. The roulade had an intense, earthy taste that could have done with a sharper accompaniment - but all in all, he loved it.
Another leisurely wait had us well primed for the main courses but the Seared Jumbo Scallops, while totally fresh and tender, were lukewarm by the time they got to the table. While they were nicely arranged on the plate around a julienne of vegetables, that kind of fiddling takes time and they would have been better served straight up and piping hot in a less elegant heap.
My Wild Mushroom Risotto was a very generous portion of baby-food for grown-ups - soft, creamy, sticky and delicious, with wafer-thin slices of Parmesan balanced on top. I couldn't detect the truffle oil, though, and there were a few too many revived dried wild mushrooms than I would have liked. There were two more vegetarian choices on the menu - a pasta and a vegetable-and-filo concoction, while meat-eaters can choose from Loin of Lamb wrapped in a Veal Mousse (£16); Pan-fried Venison Steak with Venison Sausage with Pancetta and a Port Sauce (£17) or the splendid-sounding Whole Roast Spring Chicken with Cream Cheese and Herb Crumble (£14).
A very decent selection of fresh vegetables and potatoes came in two deep dishes and left very little room for dessert. For the sake of it, though, we shared a fine sticky-toffee pudding with a scoop of delicately flavoured vanilla ice cream. A cappuccino and After Eight mints followed, leaving us feeling very pleased with ourselves and the Old Schoolhouse.
Our bill came to £66.50 including one pre-dinner drink.
We did ultimately get to O'Dowd's in Roundstone and found it expanded even more, with a new Espresso bar that looed quite depressing with its drab green exterior and deserted interior. The pub was charming as ever - a perfect place to spend a wet, squally afternoon.
While everyone else was wisely tucking in to chowder and brown-bread scones, we had the special of the day - smoked salmon quiche. I can only surmise that the reason it was a special was that they were dying to get rid of it. Not so much a slice as a slab, its crust was thick and doughy and tasted stale, while the egg filling, with precious little smoked salmon, was absolutely solid under a nasty wrinkled surface. It was perfectly horrible.
The Old Schoolhouse Restaurant, Clarinbridge, Co Galway, 091 796898. Closed Monday and Tuesday
Orna Mulcahy can be contacted at omulcahy@irish-times.ie
