EATING OUT: Breakfast is your best bet when seeking out Irish cuisine, writes Trevor White
What is the best Irish restaurant? The question is asked by anyone who takes food seriously, but it doesn't deserve to start a joke. This is not the Food Island. Indeed the idea that Ireland has an indigenous cuisine is laughable. Our national dish is the doner kebab. Yet still we ask the question.
The answer is often L'Écrivain. One of Dublin's Famous Five - the other members are Thornton's, Patrick Guilbaud, Shanahan's and Chapter One - this elegant Baggot Street refuge is a place where chefs and hacks pay homage. They are never alone. Downstairs, politicians drink too much in the private Malt Room. Upstairs, the children of Ireland's new rich sit at one of two coveted booths (tables eight and nine).
Head chef Derry Clarke and his wife Sallyanne are serious operators, and their ambition is evident throughout this calm, sophisticated dining room. However, when you get to the top of the stairs, take a right, not a left. Without a ringside seat you may find yourself wondering why anyone rates the atmosphere. Even the assistance of Martina Delaney - Dublin's most popular sommelier - will not improve lunch in Siberia.
Foodies love L'Écrivain because they spoil you rotten. Sorry, that's not what I meant at all. Foodies love L'Ecrivain because it is "the high temple of Modern Irish Cooking". But what is this Modern Irish Cooking? On arrival we were presented with seared rare tuna loin, in a red pepper escabeche and sweet potato aioli. The menu is full of "local" classics, like my starter: carpaccio of beef, poached quail's egg with black truffle, watercress pesto and Parmesan shavings. After this, the waiter arrived with a blood orange sorbet - rather hip just now in Boyle, perhaps.
The main courses were less exotic but equally bold: I had a soy and honey glazed breast of duck, with red pepper jam, sage and Parmesan croquette. The winner on the day was a fillet of hake in an artichoke cream, with a fricassee of shellfish and Thai curry froth.
When you pay €30 for food of this quality - that's the price of a two-course lunch - you realise why L'Écrivain has a place in the premier league. But is it the best Irish restaurant? No. Derry Clarke's cooking is no more Irish than the formal French cuisine of Guillaume Lebrun.
Indeed if you must eat well and Irish, do not go to a restaurant at all. Have breakfast in a country hotel. Try the full Irish - or a piece of fresh fish - in Kilgraney, Glin Castle or Ballymaloe. If you're going west this summer, stay in Clifden's Quay House, or in Dolphin Beach, which is just outside the town. Both B&Bs, they are owned by the Foyle family. One is deeply chic, the other is rather more rugged. It is not that Quay House or Dolphin Beach does the best Irish breakfast. However, if the term has any meaning at all, Modern Irish Cooking is surely prepared in Clifden each morning, where fresh, local ingredients are simply prepared and served with pride.
In a country that worships fast food (the mother and daughter of Modern Irish Cooking) the search continues for those who deserve a champion. Finding some talent has made a short stint as restaurant critic for this paper a pleasure. Thank you.
L'Écrivain, 109A Lower Baggot Street, Dublin 2 (01-6611919).
Trevor White publishes The Dubliner magazine. This is his final 'Eating Out' column