You might imagine that, on a fine autumn day with the sun beaming genially from a lightly-glazed sky and the sea at its sparkling azure best, Glasthule would be a pleasant place to be. But if, as we did, you arrive too early for lunch at Caviston's, you'll find that everything about Glasthule is faintly irritating. All those gleaming cars for sale at fiveminute intervals along the main street (but nowhere, naturally enough, to park); the JCB-thronged seafront, with its view of the Dun Laoghaire ferry terminal, all jolly flags and winking tinted glass; worst of all, the dizzying scent of garlic, wine and goodness knows what else which drifts from the tables of the restaurant itself, with diners who have opted for the earlier sitting happily munching their way through tons of spectacular-looking seafood.
It was all our own fault, of course. "We have three sittings for lunch," we were told when we phoned up to book a table. "Twelve to half-past one, half-past one to three, and three 'til whenever you finish." The latter sounded so inviting that we pounced on it with alacrity - a stroll in the sunshine; a late lunch; what could be more relaxing? That, needless to say, was before we found ourselves prowling the innocent streets of Sandycove like a pair of ravenous tigers. We ogled the pretty silver trinkets in the window of Sandycove Fine Arts - a tiny frog caught our particular fancy, but maybe that was just because frogs are often edible - and drooled over an £80 bottle of 1989 Haut Medoc in Mitchell's wine merchants and at last (at last!) it was time to claim our table.
Caviston's Seafood Restaurant is one of those places which, even when packed to the, ahem, gills, manages to seem bustling rather than busy. A simple rectangular room given a suitably nautical feel by a seaside mural in bright primary colours all along one wall, plenty of seaworthy pine furnishings and cheeky fish-print cushions, its airy lightness would give you an appetite in a second - if you needed an appetite. We didn't, and fell upon the menus with a will. I say menus. Nice touch number one: your very own carbon copy of the day's specials, to save you craning your neck trying to see the blackboard. Alas, due to the lateness of the hour and the taste buds of the clientele, both main-course specials - a whole John Dory cooked with rosemary, olive oil and rock salt at £12.25, and sauteed scallops and tiger prawns in a sweet chilli sauce at £14.00 - had been crossed off by the time we got there.
My daughter Emma, still thawing out from a visit to the dentist, rejected all proffered starters in favour of a second basketful of tomato bread, brown bread and salsa dip - a good move, for it was the perfect accompaniment to our beautifully-chilled half-bottle of crisp, clean Muscadet (when we saw the wine list, we knew we should have taken the DART). I chose the spider crab claw special (£4.50), largely because I'd never encountered a spider crab and was blissfully unaware that its claws are the size of Wavin pipes and just about as hard to crack. Luckily the chef had taken at them with a lump-hammer, so I was able to poke out large quantities of yummy, lobster-like flesh with reasonable ease, roll them in the sinfully buttery, garlicky sauce, and still have an excuse to lick my fingers at length afterwards: the best of all possible culinary worlds. I would have liked a finger bowl when I'd finished, but none appeared, so I made a quick trip to the bathroom, where scented liquid soap removed the most gruesome traces of gluttony from the hands, if not the T-shirt.
Having been thwarted on the specials front, we ended up choosing the most conservative main courses on the menu: wild salmon in a watercress sauce with beurre blanc (£11.75) for Emma, black sole (£15.95) for moi. The salmon disappeared with shocking speed. Mmm, was the reply, when I inquired how it was. I demanded details. Reluctant mumblings emerged from across the table. Mmmm. Gorgeous. Sauce. Fabulous. The same, pretty much, applied to my black sole, which was juicy, meaty and - bones-wise - extraordinarily well behaved. Nice touch number two - both salt and pepper mills were brought with the main course and left on the table, a definite plus for a black pepper freak. Hungry as we were, however, we reckoned the single accompanying dish of baby-spud and cherry-tomato salad could have contained just a tad more spuds and tomatoes; and a lot less lettuce.
This last dilemma, needless to say, provided the perfect excuse to order the dessert menu, swiftly followed by a helping of chocolate and hazelnut roulade for Emma and a coconut mousse with spicy bread-stick and variously-coloured coulis (£3.75 each) for yours truly. Emma had the temerity to wish for strawberries - serious chocolate overload had clearly set in - but on a scale of one to 10, with the quince confection from Haci Baba's in the centre of Istanbul at number one, my dessert hovered somewhere between two and three.
Our fellow diners, meanwhile, were relaxing over glasses of wine, herbal teas and cappucinos. The two kids at a nearby table, having finished their plates of potatoes and salad - thereby answering our unspoken question, what do kids eat in a seafood restaurant? - amused themselves discreetly and virtually silently, thereby impressing us no end, but inadvertently provoking a discussion of the "we did so/no, you damn well didn't" variety as we downed our post-prandial coffees. The bill came to a modest £52.75, which included a ridiculous £6.50 for the wine - about the price of two glasses of ghastly pub plonk, let's face it - but no charge for the perfectly-pitched service, which, efficient and easygoing the way Dublin service always used to be, cheered us up no end.
And when we emerged, blinking, into the sunshine we were astonished to find that a) it was after 4.30 p.m. and b) Glasthule is, in fact, a delightful spot for a relaxing afternoon stroll. Just shows what a difference a late lunch makes.
Caviston's is at 59 Glasthule Road, Sandycove, Co Dublin. Telephone 012809120. Open Tuesday to Friday, with three lunch sittings; noon-1.30 p.m., 1.30 p.m.-3 p.m., 3 p.m.-close, and on Saturdays noon-1.45 p.m., 1.45 p.m.-3.15 p.m., 3 p.m.-close.
