Eating out:It's possibly a sign of the changing times that one of Dublin's newly Michelin-starred restaurants was only half-full on a Thursday night. This must be pretty galling for the kitchen, which could be forgiven, considering all the fuss, for believing that stellar recognition puts bums on seats.
When I last visited Bon Appétit, a year ago, it was still finding its feet, and I wrote my review more in sorrow than in anger, having been a fan of Oliver Dunne's cooking in his previous berth, Mint.
My latest outing was altogether a much happier experience, and I can see what the Michelin man is at. My only quibble is that Dunne occasionally has a heavy hand with the salt, but this isa common enough among chefs.
Where the cooking of Dylan McGrath, Dunne's successor at Mint, is very intense and dramatic (a bit like the atmosphere in the kitchen, if Pressure Cooker, RTÉ's documentary about McGrath, is anything to go by), Oliver Dunne's is very assured, mature and, in some instances, understated. He likes to push at the boundaries - witness a cep ice cream, of which more anon - but doesn't tend to lose the run of himself. I can't imagine him verbally abusing his staff; he has a reputation for being tough but fair.
We had a tasting menu, the better to get a handle on what Bon Appétit is doing at the moment, and I have to say that it amounted to an impressive performance. Sure, I have quibbles, but that's what I'm here for.
The kick-off comprised a little glass of basil-infused melon juice with an emerald-green basil foam on top and sharp passion-fruit seeds lying at the bottom. It may sound a bit silly on paper, but it was an excellent palate opener.
Next was a morsel of citrus-marinated salmon with sweet onion and very finely chopped herbs in a horseradish cream. Then came what was possibly the best element in the whole meal: roast breasts of quail, pink and moist inside, with a confit of the leg, served with shredded cabbage and a puree of red onion sharpened up with old balsamic vinegar. Simple, in a way, yet involving a hell of a lot of very fiddly and careful cooking. And, most importantly, quite superb.
Then came ravioli of prawns - or, to be pedantic, a sizeable raviolo - with tomato fondue, basil coulis and a very nicely judged and very intense lobster bisque. My quibble with this dish was, sybarite that I am, the texture of the prawn filling. For me it was too like a mousse, and I feel that a bit more bite would have lifted the whole thing.
A very fresh and sharp lime-and-basil sorbet preceded a main course of Challans duck breast, roasted until crisp but still resolutely pink within, the flavour of which was somewhat overwhelmed by a very punchy mash enriched with onion and bacon, and complemented by a much more delicate aubergine puree.
From an all-French cheeseboard (sourced from Simon Kilcoyne's very fastidious Artisan Foods) we had Époisses, Camembert, Pont l'Eveque - all in suitably runny and pongy condition - and a very sharp and salty cheese from Comté.
An assiette of apple was very pleasant, especially the very dainty and finicky take on apple crumble, but I thought the accompanying cep ice cream was a crime against mushrooms, desserts and the taste buds.
Jewel-like petits fours (especially the pistachio nougat and mango jellies) were among the best in the country, and good coffee concluded a pretty impressive meal. This was a very different experience from the one I had at Bon Appétit a year ago.
With four glasses of wine from the greatly improved list, plus a large bottle of sparkling water, the bill for two came to €176.50. Now that he has his Michelin star, I can see Dunne's cooking becoming more assured than ever.
Wine choice
Our glasses of wine included the strangely named but very
good Friendly Grüner Veltliner, from Austria, very dry but
full of firm fruit, at €8, and Yann Chave's impeccable
Crozes-Hermitage, at €11. Emilian Gillet's fruit-packed
Mâcon-Villages €45) is a stunner, while Vincent
Girardin's Corton Charlemagne 2001 (€176) is a white wine of
amazing depth and complexity but still developing.
At the more affordable end, consider Château Mayne-Vieil, from Fronsac (€33), Domaine Cros Minervois (€30), Domaine du Tariquet's zesty Colombard-Ugni Blanc (€28) and the fragrant Puelles Rioja Reserva 1999 (a bargain €35).
High rollers might bear in mind that Château Pétrus 1978 (€500) is almost certainly drinking better than the 1971 (€1,542), although neither would be Pétrus at anything near its best.
Bon Appétit, 9 James Terrace, Malahide, Co Dublin, 01-8450314, www.bonappetit.ie