EATING OUT: Tom Doorley dines at Odessa
For many people, Odessa means brunch. It was the first Dublin restaurant to embrace this hybrid meal with any real enthusiasm or knowledge as to what's involved. Every Saturday and Sunday, Odessa brunches busily from 11.30 a.m. until 4.30 p.m. They even do a breakfast martini, a combination of vodka, cointreau and marmalade. I bet it tastes better than it sounds and it might well have put a spring in my step, but I'm afraid I hesitated and ordered a beer.
Odessa is, in a sense, a restaurant for people who don't use restaurants. From the retro-chic 1970s seats (covered in plastic the exact shade and texture as used in the Fiat 124 of 1972) and 1950s lighting to the quorn quesadillas, it is very clear that you're not in, say, the Beaufield Mews or The Lord Edward.
Apart from canned draught Guinness and the usual suspects, Odessa has the fragrant, hoppy Krombacher on draught along with Czech Budvar, Erdinger wheat beer and Tiger lager. A funkier beer list than wine list, oddly enough.
Salt and pepper calamari is one of those things that I find hard to pass by ... And what was this? Tobacco sauce? I know that Richard Corrigan uses Old Hoborn to make tobacco syrup, but with squid? Sadly, not. It turned out to be "tobasco" and tomato dressing. How this differs from tabasco, I can't say. By a letter, I would imagine. Anyway, my salt and pepper calamari was the first genuinely inedible starter I've encountered in ages. A generous pile of squid rings appeared, each within a mysteriously dark coating of what appeared to be crumbs. Upon prodding, they revealed themselves to be as crisp as a milkshake. They had the texture of a frail bungee rope and, bizarrely, tasted of salt and cumin, not pepper. I should stress that I tasted tentatively and took a piece solely for the purposes of forensic examination.
This starter was revolting. I pointed out to our very friendly and helpful waitress where its shortcomings lay and confessed that I could not, in a million years, eat it. She admitted that it was normally "a bit crisper than that". It was taken off the bill.
Nachos were fine: corn chips with a spicy salsa, smooth guacamole, cheese and plenty of jalapenos. The helpings are bigger, however, in both the Bad Ass and the Chatham Brasserie, as my daughter pointed out.
At this point, I was getting worried about flaccidity as a possible theme. I was waiting on duck confit, a dish where crispness of skin is vital. The long cooking in its own fat produces the tenderness; a blast in the oven makes it attractive in terms of texture. I was mildly alarmed to be told that the kitchen liked to serve the duck pink, a slightly rare duck confit being unknown to culinary science. Fortunately it turned out that this applied only to the duck breast. Fair enough.
The confit was fine. It was certainly crisp outside but it was also a little dry on the inside. Perhaps it had been drained for too long. In any case, it was not a supreme example of this bistro favourite and, being a special, perhaps they wanted to clear it.
Cumin-spiced fillet of lamb was pleasantly seasoned, flavoursome and only slightly chewy. Personally, I would have given it a bit more of the old char-grill; an element of smokiness would have ameliorated that sense of wonder as to how it had been cooked. Grilled aubergine and courgette looked a bit squashed and sad.
Had time been less pressing I would have tried the basil panacotta with summer berry compote. As it was, I settled for an espresso. The bill, including two beers, a Coke and a glass of red wine, came to €65. A note at the bottom of the menu, outlawing pipe and cigar smoking, is now thankfully redundant. But it reminded me of how so many restaurateurs used to discriminate in favour of Marlboro and against Mick McQuaid. God bless the ban! It has swept away not just smoke but this kind of hypocritical posturing too.
Odessa, Dame Court, Dublin 2 (01-6707634)
WINE CHOICE
I expected something a bit more radical, to be frank, and I didn't expect to see Fleurie, Château Musar and Châteauneuf-du-Pape (unspecified) in Odessa. Masia Peralada Grenache/Tempranillo (€19.50) is a lovely, chunky house red. It's good to see Mont Auriol Rousanne (€22.50) and tasty Duras Sauvignon (€19.50) among the whites. MontGras Merlot at €20 is a pleasant wine at a fair price, while Essencia Orange Muscat at €21.50 for a half bottle is about par for the course. Frog's Leap Sauvignon Blanc from California is €56.50 but not really worth it. A pedestrian list that should be wild, weird and wonderful.