NOT LONG AGO I had a call from a local radio station to ask what I think of children in restaurants. I was tempted to deliver the standard reply, ie, I'm fond of children but I'd never manage a whole one myself.
Actually, I'm in favour of kids everywhere. Okay, maybe not as cabin crew or anaesthetists, but you have to admit that a few six-year-olds on the bank boards might have helped to avert their current difficulties. And a 10-year-old who is good at managing his pocket money could make a fair stab at reforming the HSE.
I suspect the French and the Italians don't give much thought to the question of kids in restaurants, because it doesn't arise. They are just there, from earliest infancy.
Here in Ireland I hear horror stories from restaurateurs about boorish parents who think that waiting staff are there to look after their feral offspring they allow to run free. It's most unusual for nice parents to have horrible children but you just can't tell at the booking stage.
I'm sure that The Irish Timeshas a disproportionate number of nice parents among our readers, and I want to appeal to them to nominate restaurants that are especially child-friendly. Stand by for a round-up in due course. (I firmly believe that every restaurant worthy of the name should have a high-chair.)
Anyway, I've no idea what the policy on children is at Bistro One, Mark Shannon's terrific little restaurant in the heart of Foxrock, but I suspect it's positive, like everything else about this place, which has taken me so long to discover.
Mark is a stalwart of the Dublin restaurant trade. Prior to Foxrock he had a large and very modern restaurant at Portobello, which was just too early for the late boom.
Now, in Foxrock village, Bistro One is a delight, always full of regulars, most of whom live within strolling distance. It's a friendly, busy place with a really local feel, combined with crisp napery and elegant glassware: an unusual and rather compelling combination.
We had the two-course lunch menu at €18 (plus 10 per cent service charge). The first thing to strike me as gorgeous - in the literal sense of the word - was the dark green, peppery, pungent, marvellously fresh olive oil that was served with crusty bread. There was a note to say that it had been hand-harvested and pressed on November 3rd. Nice to know.
The second striking feature was the list of suppliers, ranging from Caviston's and Denis Healy to Moyallon Rare Breed Pork. Even before ordering, I realised that this is my kind of place. As to the food, it was impeccably done, without fuss. This is a confident kitchen.
Organic hamburg parsley root soup was so good that I've decided to grow this weird vegetable again (it's like a small parsnip that tastes strongly of parsley and you can use the leaves too). Duck liver and foie gras parfaitwas just as you would get it in a decent local restaurant in France, and served with good old-fashioned melba toast and a spicy, dark, pear chutney.
Dry-cured loin of bacon gave me pause for thought. Why can't all Irish bacon be this good, firm yet succulent? And this was before the dioxin business. It came with savoy cabbage that retained just enough crunch, and a parsley sauce that, to quote the great Curnonsky - and why not? - tasted intensely of itself.
Fillets of plaice were cooked quickly in butter on the pan and served, fresh and firm, on a bed of creamed spinach. Apart from its simple deliciousness, this is the kind of dish that will keep you satisfied for hours if you're on a low-carb diet. But I defy anyone to resist that bread with the olive oil.
This was an terrific lunch: excellent food, based on great raw materials, carefully but simply prepared, charmingly served. The bill, including wine, water and coffee, came to €71.