We've got a thing about Wongs in Ranelagh. We go there all the time and order the same thing. We don't look at the menus any more. We even see the same people. Some nights it's hopping. It can be noisy and crowded but it's got buzz. Not that it's cheap.
Wongs has become something of a phenomenon. Asian embassies have a habit of entertaining there, be-suited lawyers, a rake of tie-less academics from UCD, south Dublin's hoi polloi on the way up - and down. Paddy said he'd never eat Chinese food outside Hong Kong. And he had no plans to return. He used, however, go to the old Sandford cinema and when Wongs took it over, it was a case of play it again Sam.
We were aware Wongs had a place in Clontarf. Then they colonised further and opened up in Monkstown. We nearly went there once after I'd had a row with a manager in the Ranelagh Wongs for having moved a high-spirited trio to a table next to us. He refused to shift us to another table, even though I told him it was my birthday. And it was. But it still didn't keep us out of the place and ordering the same thing again and again.
Wongs has been in Castleknock since July. We bit the bullet and crossed the Liffey. The restaurant is on the first floor of the Ashleigh Centre in the middle of Castleknock village. It was late night shopping. I had to be hauled out of a store as I held up a purple sweater and stared into the mirror. Would I, wouldn't I? But Paddy was on edge. We might be late. We were lucky to have got the table at all. The night we had wanted was booked out and we only got our second choice if we promised to arrive early and ring if we were going to be late. Instead, we had 10 minutes to kill. We went upstairs and blinked beneath a chandelier so vast you could swing off it 'til Christmas. But then, Wongs is a high-tech place where staff key orders into a computer and have it translated into Chinese by the time it is accessed in the kitchen.
Good service was always something Wongs had going for it. And spanking white tablecloths and cutlery you could use as a mirror . . . but the familiar matt black and gold decor errs here on the side of gloom instead of mere discretion. We were each given two menus, Cantonese and Thai, as well as a wine list and a plate of prawn crackers. Believe me, you could chomp on them and go home content.
Paddy had a glass of Chilean white wine to start, nothing too fancy at £3, while I opted for Diet 7-Up. The soft drinks list ran from freshly squeezed orange juice - at £3.50 a glass - to orange juice from a carton at £1.50 a glass, and a glass of milk, same vintage, same price. The wine list had house whites and reds from £13 a bottle up to claret at £135, or Dom Perignon at £140. We weren't celebrating. And I was driving. And indecisive.
Ordering the right food is like getting married - seeking your heart's desire and finding it. There are few things worse than gazing over the garden fence or eyeing someone at a nearby table burrowing into something you wish was on your plate. You could sleuth for an hour through the menu here. The range is vast, from Cantonese to Szechuan and Thai.
We went Thai for the first course. I ordered satay kai (£5.50) which is skewered chicken in a satay sauce, while Paddy braved it with tom yam khung - which is spicy prawn soup (£3.50). It had a three-star rating, meaning it was hot - as in grab a glass of water. The waiter pointed this out at least twice. Was Paddy sure it was what he wanted? He nodded.
For the main course he played safe, opting for black sole with a garlic and black bean sauce (£26). In Ranelagh he has always, always had steamed prawns in a black bean sauce with extra black bean. For me it's never been other than a quarter of aromatic duck with shredded vegetables in a plum sauce with pancakes. And that's what I ordered here. Along with fried rice for two and a half bottle of Macon Lugny at £13. The waiter had problems opening it with the cork disintegrating as it popped out but he replaced it.
Meantime, I had become unhappy about my order. I felt I had copped out. It suddenly seemed pathetic to be having the aromatic duck yet again. I'd be flying next. So five minutes later, I called back the waiter, stuck with feathers but switched to Canonese duck with a soya sauce (£14). Paddy was pretty mad with me. I'm sure the waiter was too, but he was better at hiding it. We looked around. The clientele was subdued. I don't know what it was, probably just that we didn't know them. Paddy said they were talking about mortgages at the table next to him. And beside me it was about the crab and shark fin soup as well as John Bruton. No, he was just included in the conversation.
Paddy kept saying I shouldn't have changed my mind about the main course. I should be more decisive. I said I should have bought the sweater in the shop. There was canned music coming out of somewhere and I had the impression of a record stuck in a groove. Service was prompt. And the skewered chicken divine. Three little innocents came on skewers with a succulent satay sauce in a little ceramic dish. I could have done with more. The lettuce and beetroot garnish ended up swimming in the satay sauce as well. Bliss.
Paddy made for the soup. "Delicate," he said. He coughed. The waiter serving us vaulted across thinking the soup was too hot. No. Perfect. Not too hot at all. Indeed, it didn't warrant the three stars or else Paddy has been to Thailand.
Next to land was the roast duck cantonese. The soya sauce was sweet but there wasn't enough of it. I pleaded for more. The waiter brought it. Better. And the fried rice was a satisfying meal in itself with bits of chunky veg.
Meanwhile, Paddy's sole looked the part. It must have measured 10 inches in all and was served - as requested - off the bone. Paddy is fussy about black sole. It has to be fresh to the extent that he wouldn't mind if it was still breathing. He said this fish was "in very good condition" . But he didn't like the sauce. "Too oily." He couldn't taste the garlic. I doused some of my duck in it to compensate for the shortage of sauce. I still hadn't got as much as I wanted and I couldn't ask for more again. My duck was tender as the night but not as good as I knew the precious aromatic duck would have been. I could see it being served all around me. Believe me, it cannot be bettered.
We didn't finish the rice. Couldn't last the course. Paddy said the glass of house wine had actually been better than the Macon Lugny which had come nicely chilled in a bucket. For dessert it could have been waterchestnuts in coconut milk from the Thai menu - but Paddy opted for lemon sorbet (£3.50) which came inside a frozen lemon. And the ice cream was tangy. I had a banana fritter with syrup and ice cream for £3.50. Pretty delicous, though I could have done without so much heavy batter but . . . I know my batter from Ranelagh.
Next came coffee. Just possibly the best in the world. It's got to be. It was topped up twice. We got a plate of chocolates. The bill came to £96.30, which included a 10 per cent service charge. Incidentally, there's a minimum charge of £20 a head.
We didn't think the Castleknock Wongs had quite the same atmosphere as the Ranelagh Wongs, but give it time. And we're going to order the same as we usually do next time.
Wongs Chinese Restaurant, Ashleigh Centre, Main St, Castleknock. Tel: 0182223330. Opening times: Sunday to Thursday 6 p.m. to midnight. Friday/Saturday 6 p.m. to 1 a.m.