Eating out

Fishy Fishy, Kinsale: 'The idea here is spanking fresh, simply cooked seafood, something that is still mighty rare'

Fishy Fishy, Kinsale: 'The idea here is spanking fresh, simply cooked seafood, something that is still mighty rare'

Some people get up in the morning with the sole intention of being offended or disappointed during the course of the day. It's a kind of recreation. Among the many readers who are kind enough to e-mail me with suggestions, complaints, corrections and comments I reckon about one in 20 fits into this unhappy category - which is not bad.

A review I wrote last year caused my inbox to glow with righteous indignation. Almost 40 readers got in touch to say I had got it wrong, and, again, I could tell very few of them were cranks.

Writing with unbridled enthusiasm about Venu, a few weeks ago, I found that only two readers wanted to tell me of contrary experiences. This is about the going rate for a new, large and ambitious establishment.

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I still think Venu is a great idea, but on a brief return visit I was taken aback by the rather gloomy lighting (which applies to most but not all of the room) and, even more so, by a tepid if well-flavoured steak served on a cold plate. A cold clafoutis was stodgily disappointing.

The thrust of my initial review still holds true, but Venu needs some fine tuning and attention to detail. Just thought you should know.

And so to Kinsale, still known by some as the gourmet capital of Ireland, a phrase as datedly twee as "doily", "serviette", "slacks" and "doing a line" (not in the sense of scheduled substances). Kinsale was looking bright and neat - it's one of the few places in Ireland where the ritual strewing of rubbish seems to be unknown - and full of rich Corkonians with permatans and Volvo XC90s.

The object of the visit was to look at Fishy Fishy's new restaurant, behind Actons Hotel, but it was jammed. We managed, however, to get a table at the original of the species, the shop-cum- cafe near the church of St Multose (the patron saint of enzymes), and enjoyed a good lunch.

The idea here is spanking fresh, simply cooked seafood, something that is still mighty rare in this island nation of ours. Even leaving aside the question of cooking, most of the good stuff goes straight to Paris or Tokyo, places where fish is regarded as pleasure rather than penance.

A cocktail of local crab, served in a tall flute with long spoons (we were sharing), was made with really fresh flesh, moist and sweet, not the usual desiccated stuff from the freezer. The Marie Rose was real sauce - that is to say, not squeezed from a catering bottle - the shredded lettuce was crisp and tasted of a lot more than water, and the combination of tomato, onion and fresh coriander that sat below was a different and refreshing touch. With proper brown bread, this was the essence of good seaside eating.

Big chunks of meaty, fresh monkfish were breaded and deep-fried for just long enough to go crisp outside while remaining moist and very lovely within. Potato wedges were too big, too sweet and too flabby, but the tartare sauce was home-made and subtle.

A generous portion of turbot - one of those fishes that people don't tend to eat at home - was fried in butter until just done and served on a little mound of scallion mash.

Side salads were a bit bizarre, in that they were dressed with a lurid pink mayonnaise - perhaps a variation on Marie Rose - and we would have preferred a simple vinaigrette. But they were topped with parsnip crisps that vanished within seconds of hitting the table.

With an okay baked double chocolate cheesecake, a single and a double espresso and a half-bottle of Chablis the bill came to €75.55. They don't accept cards; it would be a great help if they made this clear at the outset.

Bad news for bottled water, by the way. The filtered tap stuff that Fishy Fishy serves in carafes, with strips of lemon peel, is delicious.

Wine choice

Fishy Fishy's short and adequate list avoids anything that might frighten the horses.

The ubiquitous Louis Latour Mâcon-Lugny, which was the height of sophistication in the 1980s, is still here at €26.95 (or €13.95 for a half).

Danie de Wet Unoaked Chardonnay (€24.95), from the Cape, and Les Fontanelles Viognier (€25.50) are pleasant wines, but Hugel Riesling (€23.95), from Alsace, seems to offer the best value.

Aotea Sauvignon Blanc (€24.95), unusually from Nelson rather than Marlborough (and something you don't see in Dublin), is good stuff and better value than the William Fèvre Chablis, at €34.

Fishy Fishy, Guardwell, Kinsale, Co Cork 021-4774453