EATING OUTThe Four Seasons has left haute cuisine behind on its way to becoming Ballsbridge's best canteen, writes Tom Doorley
If the Dublin Four Seasons Hotel didn't exist it would have to be invented. The city has a selection of places for brash displays of vulgar wealth (or extensive credit), but none is on the scale of this Ballsbridge eyesore. The evening we dined at there, at Seasons Restaurant, I noticed five 6 Series BMWs, three of the new Range Rovers and almost the gamut of Mercedes - no A-Classes - within a high-heeled totter of the front door. With enough bricks I could have hit €2 million worth of cars without moving a foot. I also noticed that only people with curiously orange complexions were using the valet parking. Perhaps this was not the place to eat with the Curmudgeon, as I am inclined to call an old school mate of mine who, and I am guessing here, has yet to read The Power Of Positive Thinking. Surveying the rather lush decor of the main dining room, he rolled his eyes and muttered, mysteriously: "Ah, yes, homage à P. V. Doyle."
The last time I ate here I forgave all the lapses of taste, because my poussin with black truffles was the stuff of dreams. It was one of those dishes that live on in the memory. On this occasion the food was in a different league (and, as it happens, there is a new chef). Four Seasons prices are steep; if you are used to Thornton's or Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud you will feel at home. And, clearly, a lot of people feel so at home that it has become a bit of a Ballsbridge canteen. Families with small children regularly sit down and tuck into set dinners at €72.
Which tells you two things. First, that these people have more money than sense, and, second, that this dining room is child-friendly and superbly run. The restaurant manager, John Healy, is a master of the art: few do it better.
"Brandade and Petals of Cod, Crystallized Potato and Parsley Oil", to quote the menu, was not as alarming as it sounds. The salt cod was redolent of really good olive oil and not too salty; it was topped with very thin slices of spud that had been crisped in the oven until they were almost transparent; the petals were flakes of just-done cod.
The Curmudgeon's foie gras came in three slices, fried until barely done on the outside and served with a sharp caramelised-beetroot affair. The foie gras was good, but it had been poorly prepped and came with bits of tough connective tissue still adhering to it. When removed, these scraps looked like something from from CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.
My rack of lamb - three loin chops in a piece, topped with a herb-flavoured crust - was deducted from the bill because I ate only part of it: the meat was flavourless and rather tough. It came with an oversalted cassoulet of cannellini beans.
The Curmudgeon's roast turbot, on the other hand, was very good. Brick shaped, it contrived to be well browned and almost crisp on the outside but moist and tender within. It was simply presented, on a bed of braised endive heads, buttery, caramelised and faintly bitter, as it should be. Creamy mashed potato and impeccably à point baby spinach (which must have contained half a pound of butter) were good. In fact the spinach was the highlight of the meal.
It was at this point that I remarked how the food had changed from haute cuisine on my last visit to poshed-up paysan grub now. "It's rather appropriate," growled the Curmudgeon. "Most of the customers have only recently stopped being peasants." He paused. "In fact some of them are still in transition."
One pud sufficed between two. Pear-and- quince crumble was, in fact, a little disc of pear with a biscuity topping, accompanied by quince purée and some very delicate caramel ice cream. It was perfectly pleasant but not really worth €15. With two espressos, mineral water and a bottle of red wine at €48, the bill came to €151.75.
tdoorley@irish-times.ie
WINE CHOICE The list kicks off with 12 Champagnes, three available by the glass, including the lovely Billecart-Salmon NV, at €68 (€13.60 a glass). There are six whites by the glass, ranging from €6.75 to €13.75 (for Verget's yummy Pouilly-Fuissé), and seven reds, from €7.25 to €10.75. Plenty of Euroclassic bottles, as you might expect, with lots of red Bordeaux (from €47 to €1,587, for Château Mouton Rothschild 1982) and white and red Burgundy (from €35 to €1,500, for Domaine de la Romanée-Conti's very rare La Tache 1988). Our Domaine la Bouïssiere 2002 Gigondas (€48) was excellent, ripe and grippy. The best-value white is probably the just off-dry Dr L Riesling (€25), the best-value red the Bodegas Lan Rioja Crianza (€32).
Seasons Restaurant, Four Seasons Hotel, Simmonscourt Road, Dublin 4 (01-6654000)