INTERVIEW:Rugby player Jamie Heaslip and Dublin restaurateur Joe Macken have formed an unlikely alliance, putting their reputations at stake in a new restaurant serving unfashionable cuts of meat, writes BRIAN O'CONNELL
ONE IS THE chisel-jawed world-class rugby number eight for whom the sport is just the day job. The other is the hipster’s Heston, taking the Dublin food scene by storm. Together they are about to form one of the unlikeliest pairings in Irish food.
Following the success of Jo’burger, Crackbird and more recently Skinflint, Joe Macken opens his new restaurant, Bear, on 35 South William Street in two weeks. Alongside him and his regular investors will be 28-year-old Ireland and Leinster centre Jamie Heaslip, who has decided to become a stakeholder in the venture and in the process start to prepare for life post-rugby.
Jamie knows a little about food, mainly because of what he can’t eat. Joe is a trendy thirty-something who knows nothing about rugby. They got to know each other when Jamie began eating at the restaurants, and over time the opportunity to invest presented itself. He wasn’t approached in any formal way and his name won’t appear over the door. Very few people even know he is involved, before now.
Macken, a stickler for detail, suggests we meet in an industrial estate in Clondalkin, where butcher Pat McLoughlin, who will be supplying beef to the new restaurant, has a warehouse. Inside the cold storage area are carcasses, hooks and boxes of meat ready to be shipped to hotels and restaurants around Dublin.
Mostly, those customers want fillet and sirloin steaks, some asking for them to be hung for several weeks. For his new venture, Macken doesn’t want the standard cuts – he wants everything else instead. The idea for Bear is to have a cocktail bar and breakfast area, combined with a grill serving less obvious cuts of beef. Don’t ask for fillet steak, because it’s not on the menu. Instead you can choose from rump, bavette, feather steak and skirt steak, all served with a choice of sides.
“I brought out a box of what he wants earlier today and we talked it through,” says butcher Pat McLoughlin. “Anyone else I would have given that box to, they’d have said take it away. But Joe has this ability to see something others don’t. He is unique.”
At a time when some long-established eateries are struggling, Macken and his expanding food businesses are bucking that trend. Bear will be his third new opening in the past two years. Arguably, no other restaurant owner in Dublin is expanding as quickly and with as much success as Macken. His restaurants open suddenly and some last only a few weeks before moving site (Crackbird is now located on Dame Street and Skinflint is where Crackbird used to be.)
While we wait for Heaslip to arrive, Macken speaks frenetically about his plans, describing where he gets inspiration from (“television mostly”) and how he never really takes a day off. He wants to set up a few photos with Jamie in the cold room, Rocky-style. “I was hoping he’d wear a Lady Gaga-type meat outfit, but he’s not exactly keen on that,” Macken says, holding up the agreed costume of red sleeveless vest and pink bobble hat instead. When Heaslip arrives, the ease of interaction between the two is evident and Heaslip comes across as down to earth and accessible — the very antithesis of the cossetted modern sports star.
“I live on my own and I used to go to Jo’burger a lot — anything rather than cook,” says Heaslip. “Joe is pretty outspoken and easy going so we got to know each other. When he opened Crackbird and it was doing well, I said to him I should have bought shares in the place. I love places that have a good atmosphere and bit of a good vibe. I’ve a degree in medical science and have been studying for a Masters in business, so I have an interest in that side of it also.”
Photos done, we hop into Heaslip’s leather-seated 4x4 and head in to Crackbird on Dame Street. The conversation ranges from child trafficking in India (Heaslip has done work with Goal and the Umbrella organisation in that area) to graffiti art in Dublin.
Rugby is barely mentioned, and only when prompted. “I play rugby and when I am in the office, so to speak, I work hard,” says Heaslip. “When I come home, it is not what fascinates me and I never watch it on television. I am excited about doing this restaurant. It is something that is really driving me and helping me think about life six or seven years down the line, when I am not playing anymore. It helps me switch off. Rugby can be like being in a bit of a fish bowl to be honest. It can be intense.”
Judging by the food ordered, Heaslip might make a healthy contribution to the tills all on his own. He’s preparing for an upcoming international, so he skips the fried chicken Crackbird made its name with and goes instead for grilled chicken and salad.
“We don’t count calories but we do have to eat healthy. During pre-season, they had monitoring bands on us and I burnt something like 5,000 calories in a day. So, I’ll have a nice big breakfast in morning, usually a five-egg omelette and then some granola. I eat after weights or training, and then we’ll have lunch and dinner as well – generally five to six meals a day. It’s good I’m getting into the restaurant business in other words.”
Despite going to a rugby playing school, 33-year-old Macken has never been to an Irish international and has no interest in the sport. “I tried it once and I fucking hated it,” he says bluntly. Growing up in a family-run hotel in Slane (which his parents sold before the crash), he learned the business from his father and mother, but almost came undone when Jo’burger expanded from Rathmines to Blackrock and failed, ending up owing €350,000.
“We got it wrong, and we went through examinership and there was a lot of pain involved for us and suppliers. My business partner John Roberts came on board and it gave us a new release and we kept most of our suppliers. The banks, who used to hate us, like us now. We spend all the money internally on our businesses. None of us have flash cars or houses. I go around on a bicycle – the rented ones.”
Macken works in one of his restaurants every day. He says his salary is on a par with his head chefs and managers, and he is obsessive about creating as much of the menu from scratch as possible. He is considering opening a bakery, partly because several he has relied on have closed down, but also so he can have complete control over that aspect of the business. All the time we’re in the restaurant, he is watching what is happening. Eventually he sits with his back to the main dining area, so that he won’t become distracted.
Heaslip is thinking back to the photos done earlier and says he expects to get a major slagging from his team mates when they are published. On record, he won’t talk about his girlfriend, except to say “she exists” and they are not engaged. “I try to control the things I can,” he says. “Having access to me is no problem. My personal life, I like to keep to myself.”
He has a dog, Jay-Z, who is taken care of by a cleaner or by his parents when he is training, and whenever possible, he swims in the sea. He doesn’t get stressed before games any more, and take little notice of criticism or negative comments online.
“I’ve gotten to the stage now that I am playing rugby and in the public eye so long that I learn to use what I call a happy Gilmore face and block out the bad and let in the good. So many pundits have never played a game of rugby in their life.”
Macken nods. He too gets a little frustrated when food critics or those in the business fail to see beyond his considerable ability to generate publicity for his premises. But he doesn’t operate in a vacuum. Recently, staff in Crackbird had to stop wearing staff uniforms which carried the logos “optimism is the new smack” following some public criticism. “The idea was that we have to be positive and driven. People didn’t understand that optimism should be something you’re addicted to. We are so open in how we communicate with customers, mainly through social media, that you have to respond instantly. The T-shirts are no more.”
He hasn’t ruled out opening more restaurants, and talks about what it would be like to have a restaurant aimed solely at families, among other ideas. “Some people think it’s all about the publicity side of it for us. But I am absolutely obsessed by our menus, and if the chefs want something new on there, they need to create it from scratch, in-house. With the new place, no-one is doing what we propose to do. There is something fun about that creativity and being serious in business. That’s what I get my kicks from.”
Bear is due to open at 35 South William Street in mid-February
