A pause for claws

The Lobster Pot in Ballsbridge is a restaurant lots of people know but few seem to have experienced. There it is beside Roly's Bistro, on the upper floor of a modest, redbrick house, with its neon sign of lobsters and there it has been, quietly been doing business, for the past 18 years. I have bussed, walked and driven past it regularly for all that time and never seen much sign of life. There's never a crowd clustering around the door and you don't hear people saying "Oh, we were all at the Lobster Pot on Saturday night," or "Did you see who so-and-so was with at the Lobster Pot?" It was the more surprising, so, to find it full the night we visited, with lots of hefty businessmen in suits, at least one Ansbacher account-holder, a large group of Americans, and two well-groomed elderly couples who were dining in silence.

To get in we rang the bell at the front door which is protected by an ornate iron grille. After a minute or two a waiter opened it and greeted us in a quiet, polite way. Inside, you step into a red-carpeted hallway with a strong smell of air freshener and a menu framed by a colourful picture of shellfish. Up the stairs, past a framed copy of a 1957 menu from the Gresham Hotel (which some of the regulars probably remember as though it were yesterday - point steak 7/6d, mixed grill 8/6d and anyone who's expecting a telephone call please notify the Telephone Department). On the top landing, the coat rail was nicely crammed with expensive cashmere overcoats and a couple of furs. On the table next to it someone had left a nice Fedora hat.

Through to the restaurant and the first surprise is that it's quite big. There's a decent-sized room to the front with three windows hung with white fairy lights. There's an equally big diningroom at the back where the bar is and where several mirrors give an illusion of even more space. The decor is pink and plush and the whole place has a rosy glow with little spirit lamps on each table and realistic flames licking up from a gas fire in the front room.

It's cosy and comfortable, old-fashioned but well kept and there's a great air of dignified calm. No big interrogation about whether you have booked or not, no intimidating consultation over a ledger of names. It's a sort of mini Coq Hardi, as Donal remarked - he vaguely remembered this was where Des O'Malley plotted his push against Charlie in the 1980s. It's similar in price to Charlie's old haunt too. We spent about £40 a head on two courses with just one bottle of wine between five.

The service is smooth and professional from an immaculately dressed, all-male team of waiters. Menus were handed out, a wine list offered to the only man at the table, and we were left with a basket of fresh, nutty brown bread and melba toasts with chilled pats of butter and containers of Low Low in a little dish. You needn't use the menu at all because a big tray of fresh, uncooked fish is shown around the table as soon as everyone has settled down. They also have steak, lamb and chicken but everyone in the room seemed to be tucking into fish.

I don't long to watch a waiter prod different bits of fish under my nose but there was an impressive variety and absolutely no fishy smell. Turbot, hake, sole, monkfish, salmon were heaped together alongside squid, mussels, scallops piled up in a shell and, of course, lobster with a fine, cooked specimen lounging on top of the rest. Fish can be grilled or poached and served with different traditional sauces - Mornay, Thermidor, Veronique, Bonne Femme and so on. The only trouble with choosing this way, and not using the menu, is price. Someone had to have lobster and Sybil gamely volunteered to try one whole one smothered in a concoction of cream, brandy and Dijon mustard. It was sensationally tasty and very rich but so it ought to be at £32.

Donal kicked off with an excellent moules mariniere with small, sweet-tasting mussels that look and taste so much better than those big, yawning ones that are grotesquely anatomical and too chewy. Saving herself for the main course, Margaret chose vegetable soup to start. It was exceptionally bland but probably very good for her. My Celery a la Grecque was a small dish of marinated vegetables - celery, mushroom, peppers and, I think, gherkins, with a little bit of melted cheese on top and a few celery fronds for decoration. Cooked in stock, not oil, it was fresh and interesting and a nice change from the chargrilled Mediterranean veg that's appearing on lots of menus at the moment.

Maria had just one dish - a generous plateful of tender prawns rolled in breadcrumbs and fried in garlic butter. It was perfect.

Donal's sole was presented on the bone but then was whisked away to be filleted and brought back in seconds. It was faultless, like my cutlet of hake and Margaret's tranche of turbot. All had been grilled and were served with the lightest of butter sauces on piping hot plates. Then the whole team descended with trays of vegetables and sauteed potatoes. Again, these were perfectly cooked. The potatoes were chunky and crisp on the outside and there was a delicious ratatouille. Everything was simple and unshowy and after it was served we were left well alone until one waiter shimmied back with more potatoes, having seen Sybil's eye roving around the table for them. We finished by sharing a creamy chocolate roulade from the dessert trolley which had a terrific array of gooey cakes and fresh fruit salad. This is definitely a place to try if you want to entertain older relatives and friends - though the stairs will limit access for the elderly or disabled.

IF you want lobster, but in totally different surroundings, fresh Canadian lobster is "on special" for the next few weeks at Belgos in Temple Bar. From now until the end of May, for £14 you can have Surf and Turf - a steak, half a lobster, chips and beer. The big plus is that if you take the children, two of them eat for free.

I tried the lobster here during the week and it was pretty good. You get a large one, halved, grilled and served up with salad and lots of garlicky butter flooding the plate. It costs £15 with chips and mayonnaise on the side for a total cholesterol-fest. The lobster was exceptionally fresh, firm and white in its bright red shell. A big implement for cracking the shell and a pick are laid on so you can get at every bit, but there were no finger bowls.

Belgo isn't as cheerfully cheap as it looks with its canteen-type layout and various deals and offers (such as loyalty cards that allow you a free lunch once you have paid for four, or an early-bird beat-the-clock system where, if you order between certain hours of the evening, you only pay the price of the time you eat at - so if you eat at 6.30 p.m. you pay £6.30). Lunch for three, with two courses each and one bottle of wine, cost a hefty £85, which included a service charge of £9.46 added automatically to the bill.

The Lobster Pot, 9 Ballsbridge Terrace, Ballsbridge, Dublin 4, 01 6680025; Belgo, 17/18 Sycamore Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2, 01 6727555

Orna Mulcahy can be contacted at omulcahy@irish-times.ie