Eating out: The Mermaid Café hasn't changed much in a decade: it still does great food, and the lunch menu is a bargain, writes Tom Doorley
Contrary to what some people believe, I don't look for trouble. This tendency goes back a long way. For much of my secondary-school days I was tall but lacking in physical substance. To quote Euclid on the straight line, I had length without breadth. As a result I avoided fights, even where matters of principle were involved. My physical cowardice still knows no bounds.
This has never been a problem as a restaurant critic. The one time I was thrown out of a restaurant - by Conrad Gallagher, as it happens - I went without demur on the bases that there was little point hanging around and not getting fed and that physical ejection, however unlikely, would not be much fun for anyone involved.
So when I say I don't look for trouble I mean that I don't search for bad food, not least because I generally don't have to. Regular readers will know that I have had a particularly bad run, to the point of becoming perversely Pavlovian: at the mention of eating out I have been doing the opposite of salivating.
The only way to break the cycle was to go somewhere dependable, the sort of place that doesn't feature in my long list of readers' e-mails that start: "You won't believe what an awful experience I had in . . ."
I hadn't been to the Mermaid Café, in Dublin, for several years, and I was worried it might have changed. It has, but in only one respect. The chunky, attractively austere furnishings have been softened a little by the considerate application of cushions to the seats, so obviating the possibility of rigor mortis in the gluteus maximus.
Otherwise, all was familiar. A bright, airy diningroom still looks on to an ever busier Dame Street; every second diner is a regular and greeted like an old friend; intellectual Americans come in clutching the New York Times's glowing review of the restaurant; and there is that old sense of mild dislocation. By which I mean that the Mermaid seems out of place in Dublin, as if it has been transported from somewhere like Berkeley, in California.
But on to our lunch. A bowl of squash-and- ginger soup was vast, the sweetness of the vegetable cut by a citrus tang and warm spiciness. And possibly also by mint and a dash of lemon juice. New England crab cakes, the sort that barely hold together and that I hardly dare try to make at home, are the bane of owner Ben Gorman's life. They are so good that he can't take them off the menu for fear of a riot, which must be quite a cross to bear for an excellent chef. They were as good as ever: moist, properly crabby, mildly infused with saffron and served with a sharp mayonnaise. Long may they remain.
Vegetarians are particularly well looked after at the Mermaid, in that meatless dishes are not tokens but thoughtful combinations of great ingredients. Our crunchy polenta cake - enriched with butter and Parmesan, I reckon - came with lots of dark, flavoursome flat-cap mushroom, melting blue cheese, roasted figs and tender rocket leaves.
A dense, meaty terrine of ham hock, held together with a rich, silky jelly of the sort you get with persillade, was first-class, served with a sharply dressed salad of mixed leaves. Plenty of crusty bread added to the sense of this as a place that does real food, not cheffy experiments.
The menu proclaims that everything is home-made - you might be surprised to know how rarely this is the case in restaurants. Chefs can buy virtually anything ready-made, so many kitchens are now reduced to being assembly stations.
Dinner at the Mermaid, unless one's choices are highly judicious, can be rather expensive. But at €19.95 for two courses, the lunch is one of the best deals in the city. The Mermaid's food is hearty, and two courses is more than adequate for the likes of me. One course will often do it. With a bottle of serious white wine, the bill came to €75.90. tdoorley@irish-times.ie
The Mermaid Café, 69-70 Dame Street, Dublin 2, 01-6708236, www.mermaid.ie
WINE CHOICE The Mermaid's list is rare in Dublin, as all of it is sourced directly from overseas. Our Pinot Grigio Vigneto delle Terre Rosse 2003 (€35.50) is not for the faint-hearted: it is a gloriously big and luscious wine. Stag's Leap Arcadia Vineyard Chardonnay is fairly priced at €85. Hawk Crest Merlot (€34.95), from the same stable, is rich and silky. Farnese Don Camillo (€26.95) is a lovely Tuscan blend of Sangiovese and Cabernet. Negresco Rosso (€37.95) blends Sangiovese unusually with Veneto grapes such as Corvina. Duck Pond Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve (€44.90) is a serious red from Oregon. Cline Ancient Vines Zinfandel (€44.25) delivers massive fruit from farther south. A half-bottle of Château Haut Mayne Sauternes 1999 costs a reasonable €28.95.