'Within seconds of sitting down to lunch I suspected that this was going to be good. When I left I was walking on air'
Imagine, for a moment, that a visitor to Ireland were to ask you where to go to eat really good Irish produce and perhaps get a taste of a few traditional dishes. Were the conversation to take place in Cork it would be easy enough. The Farmgate, you would say. And Ballymaloe House. But what would you say if the food-loving tourist were in Dublin? I bet there would be a long pause, much scratching of the head and a certain sense of embarrassment.
Not any more, though. At the Winding Stair, recently opened in what was once my favourite bookshop, you can eat exceptionally good Irish food and watch the Liffey slip sluggishly under the Ha'penny Bridge. And you can enjoy a half-bottle of glorious fino before, or during, or after, if you wish.
I entered this new restaurant in my usual blank-minded way and, within seconds of sitting down to lunch, had a distinct premonition that this was going to be good. When I left I was walking on air. Dublin, I decided, had finally got another restaurant in which I intend to eat regularly when off duty. I was joined by a fellow wine writer, who was taking a breather between tastings. Anxious to keep his wits and his palate sharp, he thought he might just have water with lunch. "They do half-bottles of Lustau Jarana," I said, casually mentioning one of the best dry sherries. "Oh, well then, it really would be a shame to turn that down," he said, adding that he has a theory that fino has no perceptible alcoholic effects. Only in Jerez, though.
By the time the sherry had been poured and we were tucking into an impeccable potted crab, cool and luxuriously buttery, and a platter of Irish charcuterie - Gubbeen salami, cured lamb and beef from Co Mayo, green-tomato chutney and sharp caper berries - we almost had to pinch ourselves. It doesn't get much better than this, we decided.
And then came the mains: so simple, so well sourced, so well executed, with absolutely no cheffiness or silliness or pretension. Thick slices of collar bacon, with the slight chewiness that this cut yields, were sweet and moist, just salty enough, served on a thick bed of buttered organic cabbage, perfectly al dente and with none of the sulphurous undertones that are this noble vegetable's protest at being abused.
A genuine parsley sauce, smooth, rich and pungent, completed a perfect picture.
Undyed smoked haddock in a thick fillet had been simmered in milk. The milk was then thickened and enriched, strips of just-cooked onion added, and served with the fish, which lay on a soft pillow of mashed potato into which a liberal measure of white cheddar had been stirred. Yes, it was rich - in fact it was all a bit much for me - but it was superb. This is a dish I would travel for. We finished with a selection of Irish farmhouse cheeses, served with tiny poppy-seed scones, a slice of feather-light ginger sponge, with pears, and a pair of impeccable espressos so strong they were almost thick.
Many new restaurants try to do something different. So many, in fact, that they don't succeed in being even slightly different.
At the Winding Stair, something radical seems to have happened. A decision was made to cook really good raw materials in as gentle and as unobtrusive a way as you can imagine. And I'm afraid that is radical in these days of mango salsas and pot-au-feu of red snapper and medallions of pork in a red-wine jus with liquorice. Or whatever.
When we visited for lunch, everything on the menu, even the steak and the bowl of steamed mussels with chips, was under €20.
It strikes me that the Winding Stair is in the same league as L'Gueuleton. Different, certainly, but it will appeal to the same people. And the wine list is considerably better.
The bill, including fino, water, coffee and two generous glasses of fruity Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, came to a shade over €100.
The Winding Stair, 42 Lower Ormond Quay, Dublin 1, 01-8727320
WINE CHOICE
I won't even attempt to do justice to an excellent list in this small space. Let's just say that any collection that brings together Pieropan Soave (€32), Weingut Prager Achleiten Riesling (€70), Bonneau du Martray Corton- Charlemagne 2000 (€250), Villa Tonino Nero d'Avola (€22), Brokenwood Cricket Pitch Shiraz (€35), Coudoulet de Beaucastel (€50), Sandrone's Valmaggiore 1998 (€71), Seghesio Old Vines Zinfandel (€70), A Mano Primitivo (€25) and Domaine du Monteillet Cote-Rotie "Fortis" 2003 (€100) is more than interesting. The restaurant also does offbeat soft drinks and proper cider and beer, including St Peter's OrganicAle.