The service is heroic, but the food at Fish leaves Tom Doorley unimpressed
In all my time as an occasionally disgruntled critic, I have never attempted to set fire to a restaurant. This is not just because I'm a bit of a pacifist and have an inbred fear of the long arm of the law; it's just that I've never felt strongly enough about a restaurant to mark my displeasure in an incendiary manner. And so I'm particularly embarrassed at having to admit that I came within a hair's breadth of torching Fish in Monkstown, not because I thought the food was poor - I hadn't even tasted any when the fireworks began - but because my copy of The Irish Times was set alight by a little candle on the table.
Had it not been for the observant eye of my delightful and surprisingly athletic waitress, I would have been engulfed in a sheet of flame, starting with the personal column. She flung herself upon the nascent conflagration and extinguished it with what must be asbestos fingers, while I was still dreamily wondering what was going on. Within seconds, the flame had been extinguished and the waitress and her colleague were sweeping the ash off the table, replacing the bread and butter, and substituting the now rather toasty white wine with a fresher version. Believe me, this is good service. And extinguishing fires with your bare hands is way beyond the call of duty. Had I been doused in foam, I would have deserved it.
Now it really does pain me, after all that, and despite the pleasant surroundings and exceptional staff, to say that my solitary meal was, in truth, not very good. Fish was, until very recently, Caviston's of Monkstown (as distinct from Glasthule). Stephen Caviston has sold up, and Fish is the new incarnation. And unfortunately the new incarnation seems to be all about cheffy food. Seems is the operative word, because I was eating alone and am judging solely on the basis of a starter and a main course, consumed when the restaurant was almost eerily quiet. Eating alone is fraught with problems. Not only do you see less of the menu, but there is a temptation to read the newspaper and unwittingly start a blaze.
The starter rejoiced in the strange title of "Warm salad of marinated squid with peppers dressed in a brick basket". I found it hard to imagine what a brick basket might be. Brickbat, I can understand. Bread basket, yes. But I wasn't aware that brick baskets exist. If they do, I would naturally assume that they are wickerwork objects designed for the transportation of breeze blocks, although I've only ever seen the latter being delivered on pallets.
As impenetrable menu descriptions go, this one takes the brisket. Or biscuit, I should say. What arrived on the table was a remarkable construction, a towering vase-shaped thing constructed of filo pastry. It had been glued to the plate, being top-heavy, with a squidge of what seemed to be mashed spud doing the job of Blu-Tack. Within the vase was a mixture of salad leaves - beetroot leaves, baby spinach, rocket and some basil - and a few pieces of squid which had been scored and had rolled themselves up, as is their wont. I should have counted how many pieces there were, but all I can say is that I was not overwhelmed by the quantity. To be fair, they were tender and reasonably tasty.
The bristly hair that suddenly appeared as I bit into the brick basket was a thoroughly unpleasant surprise. I placed it prominently on the side of the plate, but it was probably not noticed. I am always surprised at how plates are not examined on return to the kitchen.
"Medallions of monkfish, wrapped in nori seaweed, pea & mint risotto, bretonne sauce" - again to quote the menu - was not very successful. To be sure, the fish had been sensitively cooked, but the seaweed completely dominated the flavour. The risotto was not bad, as risottos go, but it combined surprising liquidity with, at the bottom, heavy density. I generally feel that a risotto should just be a risotto, not a garnish.
With a glass of Muscadet and a mineral water, the bill came to €45.15 before service.
Fish, 17A Monkstown Crescent, Monkstown, Co Dublin, 01-2846012
WINE CHOICE House wines at 22.50 may be a bit steep, but some of them are good, such as my Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine sur Lie from Guilbaud Frères. Cuvée Orélie, on the other hand, represents a big profit margin at the same price. House wines by the glass are 5.95, but the quantity is generous. Best buy is undoubtedly the lovely Sançerre Doudeau-Léger at a keen €35. Condrieu Domaine Vernay is unusual and delicious at 38, and Puligny-Montrachet from the estimable Louis Carillon is about average in price at €80. The white Châteauneuf-du-Pape from Château de Beaucastel is rare and quite a stunner, better value, at 95, than many a fashionable white Burgundy. For those who must have red, Pesquera Crianza is smokily delicious at €38.50.