The first thing to greet you upon arrival at Mao, the new eatery in Chatham Row in Dublin, is the man himself; Chairman Mao proudly hovers above the glass door with that habitual half-smile on his face. It is, of course, Andy Warhol's Mao, a recurring vision of acid-bright colours with nary a trace of the Little Red Book to be seen.
It's a strong image and a fitting one for a cafe that has itself caused something approaching a small revolution. First of all, there is the food. Asian food is nothing new to Ireland - the Chinese take-away has been a feature of the fast-food landscape, rural and urban, for more than two decades - but Mao's cuisine proudly heralds itself as "Asian Fusion" in origin. There is lime and lemongrass from Thailand, nasi goreng from Indonesia, tempura from Japan, Malay curries and China tea.
The design is also to be admired. Although it cannot be described as entirely innovative - - pale, wood floors, brash steel and bright, primary-coloured sofas aren't new commodities in Dublin restaurants - there is still something startlingly contemporary about the look of the restaurant. Laura Ashley and her acolytes must be turning in their graves as a whole generation turns its back on stripped pine, cosy contrasting chintz and the knickknackery.
But the most noteworthy aspect of Mao is its phenomenal success. Now in its eighth week of trading, it had queues at its doors after only three weeks. By the fourth week, staff were seating people in the unfinished upstairs section, on furniture pulled out of the office. Not only that, but the staff of many of the other restaurants in town had booked their Christmas parties at Mao - surely one of the greatest compliments to be had.
"Of course we had hopes but the response to the restaurant greatly surpassed our expectations. All we wanted was to get by and not make too many mistakes in our first few weeks. People have really responded to what we thought was a good idea," says Graham Campbell, who co-owns Mao with his wife, Rosie Campbell, and old friend Ronnie Reilly. None of them has restaurant experience as such - Graham and Rosie own The Natural Interior on Dawson Street, while Ronnie was the man who brought the Next shops and cafes to Ireland - although Rosie was involved in setting up Cafe Klara.
The Mao concept was born 18 months ago when the team saw a niche in the restaurant market for food, with fresh ingredients, prepared daily in a very contemporary setting. Although none of the three had spent time in Australia, it was from there that they got the idea of Asian Fusion food. "The Australians have always travelled," says Rosie. "Asian Fusion cooking, which is influenced by all the different Asian cusines, has become a fundamental part of the Australian cuisine. With the growth in popularity of oriental food in Ireland, we felt the time was ripe for this kind of food."
Ronnie agrees. "The Irish have travelled so much now, they're more discerning and their tastes have changed dramatically. We're catering for another generation. That said, I'm continually surprised by Mao's clientele - the other night we had one table of four reggae guys with dreadlocks, earrings, the lot and they were seated right beside two women in their sixties who were tucking into bowls of noodles with their chopsticks."
It must be said that on the night we visited, the other diners were a devilishly trendy lot - within spitting distance were a musician, a producer, and two PR gurus. Behind us could be heard two different tables comparing notes - one lot always had the same thing, the other was working through the menu: both insisted they knew someone who had been in every night since Mao opened.
The first treat of the evening came from the novel list of Asian beers. Although Mao offers a small wine list of predominantly old world wines, including two well-priced house wines, it's names like "Tsing Tao" and "Tiger" that suggested a new ping. With the exception of Sapporo Japanese beer, you'll find these and other beers - two Chinese, two Japanese and one from Singapore - only in Mao: their taste compliments the food to perfection.
Over a side-order of fresh and crunchy shrimp crackers, an experimental tasting of the beers provides a great start to the meal but if you want to choose just one, the staff is well versed in descriptions and comparisons.
Although the Vegetarian Rice Paper Rolls had been praised to the high heavens by a Mao-junkie friend, I was contrary and opted for a rare beef salad while my cold-smitten boyfriend went for the Asian soup of the day. A toppling tower of perfectly pink and tender beef tossed together with mint, coriander, slivers of ginger and chili, and slices of tomato and red onion arrived. Doused liberally with the lime provided, it was an explosive combination, though I would have preferred the beef sliced a little finer - gnawing through a mini steak dangling precariously from your chopsticks is not in the least glamorous.
The soup was a triumph - thin in consistency, rich in taste, with a fine balance between lemongrass, coconut milk and thin slices of chilli. "That goes a long way towards clearing the head," remarked my man approvingly as he slurped up the final mouthful, Asian-style. It was just as well he enjoyed it as the base ingredients of his main-course dish, Laksa Lemac, were much the same. This time they were joined by chicken, prawns, clams and fish - again it disappeared in a trice, leaving a chunky broth which was, likewise, slurped enthusiastically. Perhaps not first-date material.
I went for the "daily special" - although it lacked an intriguing name it was a good, robust combination of pork, Chinese cabbage, ginger and noodles dished up with a fairly sweet chili sauce. Although the demon MSG was quite obviously absent, my food had nonetheless become glutinous by the time I had tasted everyone else's and perused the beer list again. The whole shebang was topped off with a lime and lemongrass tart that was nothing short of marriage material, accompanied by a good selection of homemade ice-creams. Best of all, when the bill came it was a small revolution in itself - the whole lot came to £35.85.
The most refreshing thing about the food at Mao is not its quality or its price, which are high and low respectively, but rather that it doesn't apologise for offering novelty. With its high chic and pick-and-mix attitude, I had been sure the food would be mildly spicy versions of old favourites which would appeal to all. Instead, the dishes are uncompromising - if a green curry is meant to be hot, the chef - Donald Flanagan - will make it hot: if a dish will benefit from whole chunks of pungent ginger, then in they go.
`We'd be cheating the public if the food wasn't authentic," explains Rosie, jumping up to fetch a small dish from the kitchen. "We have this one dish, Pad Thai, which should have a kind of sour, limey taste and the staff are well trained to explain that. We've had about five come back but for every one of those we've had dozens of compliments from people who have lived in the Far East and can't believe we've got the taste so accurately.
"While Donald is not Asian himself, he has lived in Asia, worked in Australia and was taught by a Vietnamese chef in London for over a year and this is the food he loves to cook. If the compliments from other chefs who come in are anything to go by, he's very good indeed."
When asked what the team thinks is the secret of its success, there is a cacophony of ideas and conclusions.
Graham: "The look is absolutely vital - clean, contemporary, right music, right lighting."
Rosie: "It's the people who work there - Donald the chef, Michael O'Malley the manager, all the people on the floor."
Ronnie: "It's a cafe, not a restaurant, so we're open all day and people feel free to come in. It has cafe prices, it's value for money, it's clean and we've got great loos! Ultimately, it's the product that sells a place and our product is top class."
The name was Ronnie's idea - he explains: "I found out a while ago that Mao actually means `rice' in Chinese, and the Andy Warhol prints are such a strong, graphic image . . . Plus, it's a name that has huge Oriental connotations, even for a generation that may not be familiar with the Long Marches or the purges."
"Anyway, the food we're offering at Mao is a cultural revolution," says Rosie with a twinkle in her eye.
Mao Cafe Bar is at 2-3 Chatham Row, Dublin 2. It is open 9.30 a.m.-10.30 p.m. Tel: 01-6704899.