Disappointed by an old favourite, Tom Doorley challenges restaurateurs to update their menus
The other day I found myself, somewhat unexpectedly, in Limerick. It was 6pm, dark, rainy and windy. Having skipped lunch because of navigational problems in the back of beyond, I was seriously hungry.
And so, being in one of Ireland's bigger cities, I set off to find somewhere to eat. This, I reminded myself, is Limerick. The place will be crammed with interesting restaurants, thronged with cheery Shannonsiders getting themselves, in the words of PG Wodehouse, outside some decent food.
Normally I travel with a battery of restaurant guides, plus a notebook containing suggestions from readers, but on this occasion I was flying blind. That would be a problem if I were out in the sticks, I told myself, but surely not here.
And so I walked around central Limerick in the rain for almost an hour, and all I can say is that it doesn't appear to be the restaurant capital of the midwest. I don't know where is. And I'm sure there are a few gems tucked away beyond my meandering and increasingly damp route. In which case I would dearly love to know about them.
True, I did stumble on a few restaurants. But the menus didn't look very promising. One or two of them could have been written in 1970. Some of the chippers smelled quite seductive, and I was tempted. But in the end, and being very wet at this stage, I thought I would revisit the Green Onion.
Oh dear. This long-established restaurant seemed rather rubbed at the edges. Service was pleasant, and I didn't really mind having to hang up my own coat or sit at a wobbly table. But while the Green Onion was making waves several years ago (and I recommended its lunches in my 100 Best Restaurants guide last summer), it seems to have subsided into being a very ordinary eating house, albeit one with a very good and keenly-priced wine list.
There is nothing wrong with Clonakilty black pudding and onion marmalade, except that it now seems a bit lazy and dated. It came tarted up with a kind of colcannon cake on top and tasted fine, but it was a bit too reminiscent of breakfast.
Then came a sirloin steak, nicely chargrilled and flavoursome enough. It was billed as being served with garlic butter. In fact it was almost floating in a pool of melted butter with a faint suggestion of garlic. Vegetables were the usual suspects: spuds (boiled and mashed), carrots, swede and both mangetout and French beans, which are unlikely to have been local. All rather faded and mushy. We just don't care about vegetables in this country, do we?
Sticky toffee pudding (which was so popular in 1990) was fine: sticky, toffee-ish and - oh God, what's the
point?
Please don't misunderstand me. I love traditional food when it's done well. But I keep encountering lacklustre, dull, dated menus. Where is the interest, the excitement, the pizzazz? Where are the chefs who cook simply but with panache?
Is it that we are not interested or is the restaurant industry too lazy to do anything fresh and different? Is this why we have so many bog-standard so-called trattorias? And all those deeply unauthentic Thai, Indian and Chinese places? Why are there not more restaurants such as Itsa4 Sandymount, L'Gueuleton, Enoteca della Langhe, La Maison des Gourmets, La Dolce Vita, Town Bar & Grill and the late, lamented Cube? I could go on.
The odd thing is that it costs no more to do it properly. All it needs is commitment and a sense of excitement about food. The fear of Neanderthal customers is another matter, of course, but where good food is served, the intelligent punter will find it.
And if anyone can help me find the best place to eat in Limerick, I would be most interested to hear about it. I trust it's not the Green Onion.
The bill, presented with an After Eight, came to €38.55, including two glasses of wine and a large bottle of mineral water. u tdoorley@irish-times.ie
The Green Onion, Rutland Street, Limerick, 061-400710
WINE CHOICE The Green Onion's list is very strong on value, and it's also nicely eclectic. La Linda Chardonnay and Malbec (€16.95) are terrific, very keenly priced house wines. Con Class Sauvignon (€20) is a zingy, new-wave Spanish white. Domaine Quiot Côtes du Ventoux (€18.50) is packed with ripe Grenache. Zenato's brilliant Ripassa (€32) is an exquisite red from the Veneto, offering outstanding value. I also like the organic Bagordi Rioja Crianza at a remarkable €18.50. Wines are kept fairly modest in order to keep prices down, but I noticed a half-bottle of Château de Pez 2000 (€24.95) from Saint-Estephe, which would make a nice little treat.