Dublin's newest restaurant is good news for consumers, and one to put its rivals on alert, writes TOM DOORLEY
DESPITE THE FACT that many of the team at Pichet (“a modern take on the classic bistro”) have come from L’Ecrivain, I hear reports that Derry and Sallyanne Clarke’s landmark restaurant is thriving. And that Derry himself is spending even more time in the kitchen since Stephen Gibson left for Trinity Street.
Pichet is a sign of the times. Any restaurant that opens these days has to have a very clear plan and here it seems to be simple: good bistro food, modest but not rock-bottom prices, a bit of a buzz, young and friendly staff, a short menu.
My dining companion, who had the misfortune to teach me history at school, described the character of Pichet very succinctly. “There’s no fuss,” he said. And he’s right. De-fussing a restaurant is not easy. It’s not a question of eschewing heel-clicking formality, there’s also the need to avoid forced jollity, upselling, ceremony. You need to be very sure of what you’re doing to pull this off.
Nick Munier, of Hell’s Kitchen fame, has the skills, the personality and the staff to do this. It’s a killer combination if you are looking at it from the point of view of the competition. It’s early days (I ate there on its sixth day to be precise), but I have a feeling that Dublin’s somewhat somnolent restaurant scene has just received a pretty sharp biff to the gluteus maximus. I also have a feeling that Stephen Gibson is enjoying himself. He has been released from the gilded cage of a Michelin-starred kitchen and he is cooking wholesome bistro food.
But what the hell is bistro food? It’s not easy to define, but here are some elements that I believe go into it. There’s a French accent but not exclusively, there’s a touch of rusticity and the dishes can be done by a good home cook who doesn’t mind being stretched a little. And you don’t get the whole bloody world on the menu. Good bistro food can be mildly eclectic but it’s not, perish the thought, “fusion”. Okay, the words “wasabi”, “soy” and “merin” (mirin?) appear on the menu, but they come in within the quota for this kind of internationalism.
An egg, poached, then breadcrumbed and deep-fried, was a lovely thing to behold and more especially to eat, its core nice and runny, and its accompaniments of ham lardons, baby leeks and caper vinaigrette cutting the richness while adding substance. This is the very definition of what you don’t do at home. Well, I don’t.
Tiny, delicate potato gnocchi, manifestly not out of a vac-pack, came with nuggets of smoked haddock, spinach leaves that had not been cooked into slimy submission, a mildly curry-flavoured, bright yellow “emulsion” dabbed daintily around the dish and a few poached quails’ eggs. Clearly you can take the man out of L’Ecrivain but . . . It was very good.
A fine, chunky rib-eye, all 10 ounces, was carefully trimmed (not something we’re used to in Ireland), cooked perfectly medium – which is the way to go with this cut – came with fine, crisp chips (frozen, admitted Mr Munier, but none the worse for that) and good bearnaise.
Belly pork, yet again. But hang on a moment. This was different. A generous rectangle of suckling pig belly, quite different, amazingly tender and, yes, flavoursome, was served on a bed of sauerkraut with Toulouse saucisson, lentils and mustard. This was the very definition of good bistro food. A perfectly dressed green salad was as good as it gets and a selection of cheeses (with some perfect Bleu d’Auvergne and a suitably stinky spoonful of Munster) was served with crisp home-made crackers. A macchiato was the real deal: very short, very strong and topped with a suspicion of milky foam.
No fuss, indeed. Just attention to detail, immaculate execution and presentation, and perfectly judged service. The place was packed on a Wednesday night and there was a higher proportion of restaurateurs, chefs and restaurant managers than I’ve ever seen in one place. They all looked happy and maybe very slightly concerned.
The bill, with aperitifs, two 500ml pichets of wine and plenty of mineral water, came to €104, service excluded.tdoorley@irishtimes.com
THE SMART MONEY
The two-course early bird (€18, 5pm-7pm), a glass of house wine and an espresso comes to €25.50 before service.
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Wine can be had by the 75cl bottle, the 175ml glass or the pichet of either 250ml or 500ml. Prices start at €5.25 a glass for the very decent Simone Joseph southern French varietals and rise to €66 for a Meursault from Domaine Bouzereau-Gruère (and €99 for Bollinger NV). Highlights include the fresh, zesty Rueda Herbis (€25), Domaine Merlin Mâcon La Roche Vineuse (€36), Domaine de Fondrèche Côtes du Ventoux (€28), Prunotto Barbera dAlba (€34), the organic Domaine Pech-Latt Corbières (€30), and Domaine Simon Bize Savigny-les-Beaune (€65).