Don't expect silver service, but if you want a pizza in a million Il Fornaio could be the place to go, writes Tom Doorley
There was a time when the only fondue set in Raheny, and perhaps anywhere north of the Liffey, was owned by Mr and Mrs Charles Haughey. This was in 1963. I know about this because Fintan O'Toole once mentioned it in this newspaper. He was quoting a magazine article in which the thrusting young politician was giving a glimpse of the sophisticated lifestyle he was enjoying in Dublin 5.
I'm not sure what thrusting young politicians with social aspirations are inclined to flaunt these days. Designer kitchens in which damn all cooking ever gets done? Home cinemas? Plunge pools? Tuscan wood-fired ovens? Whatever it is, it's a long way from fondues.
In fact, the aspirational classes have learned that it's the little things that get you social brownie points. Such as handmade grissini, those Italian breadsticks that look, oh, you know, quite sculptural. Not easy to get, of course, and that's the point. But they do a fine version at Il Fornaio, the original of which is in Raheny, Dublin 5, as it happens, and a splendid satellite of which is now open at the IFSC.
My mission, when I descended on the new Il Fornaio, was to assess as much of its output as possible for you, the reader. In other words, we were going to order a meal that no normal human being would contemplate. And it was fun.
We kicked off with a nine-inch pizza that was topped with the usual unctuous tomato and mozzarella but was then studded with porcini (as the Italians call them), cèpes (as the French call them) or Boletus edulis (as the mycologists call them). Ceps are in season in the autumn and are my desert-island food. Nothing comes close, not even white truffles. They are sold fresh, dried or, as at Il Fornaio, preserved in olive oil. The flavour and texture were every bit as good as if the mushrooms had been just picked. Fabulous. A pizza in a million.
We also shared a standard trattoria mixed salad - lollo rosso, radicchio, onion and the odd olive - except that it tasted spanking fresh and the dressing was first-class.
And then onwards and upwards to the pasta. You see what I mean? This was purely in the public interest. Spaghetti, immaculately al dente, was served with big, meaty meatballs (beef with a hint of chicken liver) in a light and surprisingly delicate tomato sauce. And the dish of the evening: ravioli stuffed with Parma ham, served in a sauce of cream, butter, cheese and finely chopped walnuts. This was one of the best things I have eaten in a very long time.
We sampled slightly soggy but substantial profiteroles as a representative pud and found them pleasant. Espressos, served with a little glass of water, were among the best I've tasted. Anywhere. With a litre jug of wine, the bill for this meal, which would have served three, came to €72. In fact, two people could eat very well here for about €50.
Bear in mind that most of Il Fornaio's business here is in takeaway food and that it seems to do a thriving business in pizzas. There's a handful of tables in this brightly lit, glass-walled little establishment, so don't expect silver service and linen napkins. It's a busy, friendly, very down-to-earth place for people who want good food and don't fancy hanging about.
It's exactly what we want more of. And I'd like more of that ravioli con salsa di noci, per favore.
WINE CHOICE Being uncharacteristically quick off the mark on this occasion, I hit Il Fornaio just as it received its wine licence. A light, juicy red and a crisp, fresh white are available by the glass or by the jug. Our litre cost €19, which is the average price of a mere 75cl bottle of house wine these days. And it was just a little too much for us. A full range of Italian wines is planned.
Il Fornaio, Valentia House, 1B Custom House Square, Dublin 1, 01-6721852