JUST AS the smaller personal hotel has given way to larger deluxe ones, so too have many of our Dublin restaurants. One restaurant, however, which has maintained its personal quality and standards is that of Mario Gentile's Barnardos in Lincoln Place. It is as homely and welcoming as the flowers of May and made even more so by the endearing Dublin Italian accent of Mario himself and the excellence of its Italian cuisine.
There was one person I dearly loved in Barnardos - Paddy Moran the pianist, a typical Dubliner from Crumlin, rotund in figure, with an infectious welcoming smile, a warm handshake, who knew the clients and their taste in music like the back of his hand. No matter what you asked Paddy to play he did so in a most talented, professional manner. He knew my love for Moore's melodies and when he'd see me he'd switch from, say, Chopin or Schubert to Oh Arranmore, lov'd Arranmore, She is Far from the Land or At the Mid hour of Night. It is no easy task playing, when orders are being taken, people are chatting and your soul is in the music as was Paddy's.
Which reminds me of the story of Liszt who, when playing for the King of Prussia, stopped suddenly as conversation started buzzing all round him. The King asked why he halted and he replied: "When the King of Prussia speaks there must be silence in the room." I am sure that where Paddy is now there is that silence and his soul is in the right place. The words of Thomas Moore taken from Like Morning when her early breeze succinctly apply to Paddy:
So sleeps the soul, till Thou Oh
Lord
Shall deign to touch its lifeless chord-
Till, wak'd by Thee, its breath shall rise
In music, worthy of the skies.
We'll miss you Paddy, as do your much-loved wife and family. Go ndeanai Dia trocaire ar d'anam.