RESTAURANTS:A fine meal in a beautiful setting took away the bitter taste of the Euro-debacle, writes Tom Doorley
THEY SAY THAT everybody who is old enough can remember where they were when they heard that President Kennedy had been shot. I was behind the sofa with my alphabet bricks. And now, I suppose, we will all be able to recall where we were when Dustin went down in flames, a martyr for his country.
Well, I was in Co Mayo having a solitary dinner, and so it was only as I caught the last of the voting that I realised that tragedy had struck. His haunting lyricism and his ability to attach, if you like, emotion to place (Tintern Abbey is only in the ha'penny place in this regard) does it for me.
The poignancy of his song, I've Never Been to Meath, was, of course, traduced by the American singer Charlene, in a version that stripped the song of any meaning.
But I digress, being upset for a great turkey. I've been to Meath, all right, and much of Mayo, but I've never been to Cong until now. And if you're similarly hazy on this bit of Ireland, I can report that the village is a little gem and the surrounding country, especially the woods that sweep down to the lake, is among the loveliest in the country.
Annywez, as Dustin might say, I found myself sitting in the dining room of Lisloughrey Lodge, with a delightful view of Lough Mask over which the sun would have been setting had there been any.
This is a fine Victorian house to which many additions have been made and which has been open for just over a year. It's not a muddy boots and labrador kind of country house, more Range Rover than Land Rover Defender, if you see what I mean.
And it has a talented kitchen where chef Wade Murphy seems determined to produce visually impressive food that really works on the plate. And despite the almost clinical presentation, there is still a very welcome earthiness to the grub.
A tiny amuse bouche, a wisp of local air-cured lamb with some fig marmalade, was a very good palate opener, sweet and salty, with a great deal of taste packed into a minute mouthful.
I've never been wowed by the combination of scallops and black pudding, and the only cauliflower puree that has worked with them, for me, has been Oliver Dunne's, when he was in Mint. So it may have been a bit unfair to order this combination here in Mayo.
However, I can now see what the fuss is about. The quality of the pudding is just as important as that of the scallops. Here, it was the legendary one from McGeough's, in geometrically perfect cubes which at first seemed rather out of proportion to the scallop flesh. But no, it was judged to perfection.
The puree was, to my palate, too sweet and too smooth. And, I know this sounds bizarre, but I think it would have worked better with a grainier texture and just a hint of curry spices.
With this outstanding starter came a brilliant little salad of watercress with tiny strands, the same thickness as your average capillary, of rhubarb. I've never had this combination before and it has converted me.
I admired the simplicity of my main course, a wild mushroom tart, in the loose sense, with "toasted Ardrahan cheese" and confit shallots. In fact, I ate every scrap, which is something I rarely do, but I would have to say that there was a very heavy hand with the salt.
I was also not entirely convinced by the disc of pastry on which this simple but very intensely flavoured combination sat. It seemed to be puff pastry that had never . . . well . . . puffed. The sauce vierge, which I had thought would fight with the mushrooms, worked a treat.
Finally, a lime and white chocolate parfait on a base like you get in good cheesecakes, by the pastry chef Pauline Reilly, managed to combine richness with sharpness in a very seductive way. Her rum and cola gelée was going down a treat with the young ladies at the next table.
This is a serious restaurant in a beautiful spot, more than worth a detour. With three glasses of exceptional wine and plenty of mineral water, the bill came to just a shade more than €100.