Tom Doorley enjoyed a family lunch at The First Floor restaurant in Harvey Nichols, Dundrum
This may come as a surprise to people who know me, but I don't have a pressing interest in designer clothes. I have a very nice woollen suit by some German producer, various pairs of corduroy trousers by Hilditch & Key, a couple of pairs of chinos by Marks & Spencer and a few tweed jackets which were actually made, quite a while ago, by a real tailor.
According to one of my daughters, I can look like a prosperous farmer on a good day. Otherwise I tend to favour the Oxfam look. As a result, I don't know a lot about Harvey Nichols. I do know, however, that their food hall is the only place in Ireland where you can buy Bath Oliver biscuits, which gladdens my heart in much the same way as Jimmy Choos work for other people.
I also know that Harvey Nicks' Dundrum Town Centre branch is a lot smaller than the original Knightsbridge model. In London, their restaurant is known as The Fifth Floor. In Dundrum, it's The First Floor. You get the picture.
Now Harvey Nichols is not cheap. It never has been. To complain about the prices there is like expressing surprise at the Pope's stubborn refusal to find a wife and start a family. If Harvey Nichols decided to go the same route as Penneys, we would be disappointed. Part of its raison d'etre is to be exclusive, which is another word for "dear".
The First Floor restaurant is dear, but it's also good. It's pitched at the same level as the likes of L'Ecrivain and Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud and while the food doesn't quite hit such high notes, it's impressive. We can argue till the cows come home about whether it offers value for money, but there are lots of cheaper restaurants that offer less for proportionally more.
Our family lunch there was a pretty jolly affair. Starters were universally excellent. Tender potted rabbit served with toast and filaments of celeriac remoulade was different, flavoursome and impeccably presented. Veloute pea soup was silky, intense and a very pretty colour. Gratinated crab served with truffled scrambled egg was nothing short of sublime. Indeed it was possibly the best thing I've had in an Irish restaurant this year: simple, using the best raw materials, and produced with razor-sharp precision.
The two younger members of the family skipped starters and stuck to the children's menu. Grilled chicken breast (organic, although the menu doesn't say so) came with a slick of intensely chickeny gravy and a Rubik cube of proper, handmade chips dusted with sea salt. At €7.50, this is one of the best buys in town.
Mushroom risotto avoided the fashionable faux pas of grittiness; instead, the rice stopped just short of being mushy, as it should. Shiitakes and fresh, apricot coloured chanterelles provided the fungoid element, with wilted rocket for a hint of crunch. The whole thing was enriched with tarragon-scented mascarpone. All in all, not the sort of thing I tend to rustle up at home.
"Pot-roast chicken, saffron rice cake, sweet potato fondant, lemongrass essence" may sound like fusion bordering on confusion, but it worked. The moist chicken tasted of chicken, the rice cake (which started life as a risotto Milanese I supect) provided texture and carbohydrate, with the sweet potato picking up the mild sweetness of the chicken. The lemongrass got a bit lost.
The herb crust that adorned a slice of perfectly pan-fried cod was, to be frank, not so much crusty as mushy, but its accompanying tomato "broth" (more a of soup, really) was pleasantly sharp and full of tiny pieces of vegetables.
We were all meant to share a chocolate dessert, but I was so busy talking that I only managed to snaffle a few very tasty crumbs. The others reported that it was very good indeed.
With four glasses of wine, two bottles of mineral water, and both a single and a double espresso, the bill came to €161 for five of us. Everyone, from the age of nine to 46, enjoyed it.
First Floor Restaurant and Bar, Harvey Nichols, Dundrum Town Centre, Dublin 16 (01-2910488)
WINE CHOICE The wine list, sourced from the UK, is big, full of surprises and way beyond the scope of these few words to do it justice. Highlights include Allegrini's silky Valpolicella, of which we had a couple of glasses (€6.30), Qupe Marsanne/Roussanne (€40) from California, Grosset Watervale Riesling (€43), the rare Seresin Pinot from New Zealand (€70), the even rarer Ridge Montebello 1999 (€290), Domaine Pichon Condrieu (€70), Coulée de Serrant 2002 (€150) from Savennières, Le Montrachet 2003 Fontaine Gagnard (€650). I could go on. Less rare and a lot cheaper are oaky Spanish Gotim Bru (€25), Selvapiana Chianti (€28), Domaine Lamargue Juraçon Sec (€28), and the ultimate Soave from Pieropan (€28).