A winning formula has seen Isaac's through good times and bad – and will do so again, writes Tom Doorley
WHAT A DIFFERENCE a letter makes. I’m still in a state of shock because a communication from my old school, an establishment known for some degree of academic rigour, refers to “scolars” and “grammer”. What next? A dinner hosted by the Old Boy’s Onion? I still treasure a press release about a restaurant, now gone the way of all daft catering ideas, which is headed simply “Restaurant Re-Modelled with Flare”. I bet that bumped up the insurance premium.
I myself have come close to re-modelling two restaurants through the medium of fire. At Isaacs, I once caught a copy of the Irish Examiner in a candle flame and had to rush into the street, brandishing a flaming icon of Cork life. Which, given the notoriously sensitive nature of Corkonians, could have been misinterpreted. I did much the same with a copy of The Irish Times in a Dublin restaurant which has since closed (not, thankfully, due to fire damage) and now desist from perusing the newspapers where there are naked flames.
When Isaacs opened way back in 1992, it represented a bold move. In 1992, staying in Ireland at all seemed quite courageous. Michael and Catherine Ryan, of Arbutus Lodge fame, with head chef Canice Sharkey, deliberately created a restaurant with the combination of elbows-on-the-table informality and exceptionally high standards of food that had simply never been seen in the country.
Isaacs thrived during the bad old days and, in its essentials, nothing has changed. It looks set to sail calmly on through the turbulent times ahead. I love this big room with its high ceiling, the tall Victorian windows, the menu that is almost frighteningly eclectic (until you realise that every item is executed with true panache), the friendly, smiling young staff, the randomness of the customers and the fact that I always bump into someone I know. Yes, eclectic menus usually scare me. All too often it means that the kitchen is a jack-of-all-trades. But at Isaacs, you get the impression that there is just a huge enthusiasm for food, for experiment, combined with real skill.
The abridged Doorley family (four rather than the usual five) descended on Isaacs for lunch. There was a splendid 10oz steak seared outside and bloodily rare within, just as ordered, with proper, aged flavour. This was served with sauté spuds and an impeccable Béarnaise which, although I say so myself, was just as good as the one I had lovingly cooked the previous evening. It also came with little ramekins of garlic butter and Dijon mustard.
Chana masala, a vivid yellow curry of chickpeas, was a pure delight, fragrant rather than hotly spicy, sharpened up with some tamarind, I’d guess, and served with crisp poppadoms, basmati rice, chutney and yoghurt.
Butterflied king prawns, slices of aubergine, red pepper and lengths of scallion were dipped in a light tempura-style batter and served with a dip involving, I think, soya and perhaps a little nam pla. And there were little slices of pickled ginger and some exceptionally hot wasabi. All in all, a light dish packed with flavour.
Fishcakes were fine and avoided one of the cardinal sins: using a vast amount of mashed spud to hold together a few filaments of fish. These were meaty, so to speak, and moist, but relatively ordinary. Which is a good complaint. The fishcakes and tempura both came with a fresh salad of baby leaves, including oak leaf lettuce, beet and rocket, gently dressed with decent oil.
We shared two puds. There was an ethereally light sticky toffee pudding (a first for me) with a turbocharged caramel sauce. And creamed rice with homemade raspberry jam for stirring in – so simple, so comforting, so good.
The cost of this lovely meal (we will draw a veil over the gruesome coffee) with a bottle of mineral water and a bottle of white wine came to €114.30. tdoorley@irishtimes.com
THE SMART MONEY
Sticky Asian pork salad with noodles and a glass of wine works out at just over €15.
A short list with a combination of pretty commercial stuff and some quirkier buys. Our Thomas Barton Graves (€24) was as dull as ditchwater and we would have done much better to have zingy Basa Rueda (€23) from Spain. Lawson’s Dry Hills Sauvignon (€27) is a well-priced Kiwi white, while Martín Códax Albariño, at the same price, is crisp and peachy. Hermosa Rioja Crianza (€26) is plump and nicely oaked. Gazur (€25) from Ribera del Duero is less oaked and chunkier, and Luigi Bosca Old Vines Malbec (€30) is one helluva mouthful. Château Tour-Peyronneau St-Emillion 2000 (€40) should be lovely at this stage. Tio Pepe is €4.50 a glass.