Remember ostrich farming and what a good idea it seemed back in the early 1990s? All a farmer had to do was buy a few eggs, hatch them, then watch the herd grow and multiply, before selling off the birds for all sorts of uses. The meat, tender and fat free, would become a staple on restaurant menus, the legs could be turned into ashtrays, the beaks into castanets, the feathers into expensive hats - there was no end to how profitable an ostrich could be.
But it didn't work out that way. The birds proved difficult to handle, there were no headage grants and, after all the trouble, people didn't much like the taste of the meat. Finally, there was a pyramid-selling scandal over the eggs, and ostriches scuttled out of the mainstream. You still see the odd supercilious-looking bird strutting around a field in the wilds of Wicklow, which may explain its presence on the menu at Ashford House in Ashford.
This huge, sprawling pub on the side of the road as you come into Ashford used to be a straightforward place where you could get good sandwiches and chips for the kids. Fancy dining went on elsewhere in the town, either at the Chester Beatty - called after the famous American collector who used the pub as his local when he lived in Clonmannon House - or at Hunters Hotel where there's a certain cachet to being bossed by the elderly owner, Mrs Gilletlie. Those who simply want a good, hot feed go to the Riverside diner at the Vartry filling station, a trucker's restaurant which is packed all day long.
Last year, the Ashford House was given an expensive facelift and now has a formal restaurant as well as a large, vaulted room where you can still get pub grub until 8 p.m. We had a booking for 8.30 p.m. but needn't have worried because there was only one other couple in the room. And what a room - old-colonial-meets-Marie-Antoinette will give you some idea of the decor. It's a frothy, feminine room with lace curtains at the window, light coming from hanging brass lanterns and Venetian glass globes in the windows, pistachio-coloured pillars supporting a ceiling with wedding cake icing cornicing, potted palms in the corners and delicate, Louis XIV-style chairs clustered around immaculately dressed tables. The only thing lacking was atmosphere.
We were seated on a raised balcony, beside a window overlooking the road - double-glazing meant the traffic whizzed silently by - and with a clear view across the room to the open doors of the kitchen where four or five people were beavering away under harsh strip-lighting. The bright, stainless-steel kitchen looked incongruous against the frou-frou of the dining-room. It also looked cold, In fact, the whole room was distinctly chilly. Gordon admitted afterwards that his legs were frozen by the end of the evening.
Sitting down, we were presented with two splendid menus, grey and burgundy fold-out cards with the starters and main courses flanked by cut-out Corinthian columns.
The food sounds extremely elaborate. Cream of Asparagus Soup with a Spaghetti of Spring Vegetables (£3.20) was about the simplest starter. After that, it was a choice between Pumpkin Tortellini with Truffle, (£6.95) Sauteed Chicken Livers with Caramelised Onion (£6.95); Roast Rock Oysters with Baba Ganoush (£9.95); Polenta; and Braised Pigs Trotters (both £4.95). We chose the last two and got stuck into the bread and butter while we waited. Several types were offered, including a good potato and chilli bread and a dark brown bread that was quite stale. An appetiser of vichyssoise was fresh and delicious but added to the sensation of being cold.
The pig's trotter was a fearsome-looking thing, totally black on the outside, stuffed with a soft black pudding with a celeriac cream providing light relief. Despite its Lucifer looks, the trotter gave up its meat in succulent chunks that went well with the soft pudding. The overall effect was just too much, however, and there was a whole swathe of fat I couldn't touch.
Gordon's char-grilled polenta was a generous slice sitting on a bed of lightly dressed spinach leaves, with baby tomatoes and black olives.
Considering that the kitchen wasn't busy, the service could have been a little faster. We expected the room to fill up at any minute. It didn't. Main courses range in price from the show-offy - lobster flambeed in brandy at £30 a pound - to the simple - roast chicken and smashed carrots (£14.95), and include classics such as loin of lamb and pan-fried john dory. I was game to try the braised bison (this year's fashionable meat), but it was "off" so it had to be the venison.
It was a fine hunk of meat, tasting vaguely of venison, with a firm though tender texture and no fat. It came with delicious, slow-braised onions, which were on the side, and a delicate creamy risotto.
Gordon's monkfish was melt-in-the-mouth good. The fish was arranged in bite-sized pieces around a mound of noodles with a light cream sauce and a hint of chilli. We could hardly manage the vegetables - a hearty plateful of potatoes in their skins, mangetouts and sauteed courgettes.
The dessert menu is short and, that night, shorter still since the chocolate risotto was "off". I had some inoffensive ice-cream, scoops of vanilla and chocolate with a topping of chopped-up apple and glace cherries. Gordon's pear and aniseed tart turned out to be a good choice, more a roulade than a tart, the pear encased in firm aniseed-flavoured pastry with a thin plating of chocolate, and he loved it.
Coffees followed and tasted very much as if the water in the machine had not heated up enough. To make up for it there were some gorgeous little brazil nuts coated in different flavoured chocolates. The bill came to £71 - too expensive for what we had eaten, but including a reasonably priced Soave we both liked. Service is not included.
Ashford House, Ashford, Co Wicklow, Tel: 0404 40481
Orna Mulcahy can be contacted at omulcahy@irish-times.ie
