Don't eat for a few days before visiting Gannon's of Cahir, writes Tom Doorley
Things are different in the country. Although an increasing number are building bungalows in defenceless tracts of countryside, and working in offices in the local town, there are still a lot of people who work on the land. And working on the land breeds an appetite that is unknown in suburbia, even among 14-year-old boys. Those of us who spend our days looking at a computer screen and whose experience of agri-activity is confined to mowing the lawn can only wonder at the sheer scale of it.
I mention this because the portions at Gannon's in Cahir are are so vast that even a day's hike from the town, up to the Vee (that picturesque gap in the Knockmealdowns) and back again would get me through only about a quarter of a main course.
One diner was preceded into the room by an extensive tummy and a rake-like partner who, in the immortal words of Wodehouse, demonstrated clearly what Euclid had in mind when stating that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. Despite the different morphs, they both cleared their plates with the slow but determined poetry of motion that I generally associate with a well driven JCB.
Elsewhere in the room, a girls-night-out foursome put away several stone of food between them, lubricated by a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. The people of Cahir and its hinterland are the friendliest in Ireland. But, by heaven do they have vast appetites.
Anyway, Gannon's does a grand plate of dinner in the restaurant and provides pub grub in the bar downstairs. An organic hamburger with melted Crozier, the blue sheep's cheese made by the Cashel Blue people, is typical of the menu down there. And very untypical of the average pub.
We kicked off with a smoked salmon blini of perfect, almost silky texture; the fish and the pancake rolled and sliced to reveal a delicious spiral with a few nuggets of asparagus in the centre. This was served with sour cream (adorned with an incongruous dollop of what seemed to be chilli jam) and excellent fresh salad. The other starter, however, set the tone. This was a scrumptious but vast - by starters standards - combination of salad, toasted cashew nuts, pear slices and shredded spiced belly pork, with blue cheese dressing. Sound like a nightmare of tastes and textures, I know, but it all worked. Except that it was rather a lot.
Especially as a prelude to what appeared to be the better part of a lamb sitting on top of a field of mashed potatoes. This was slow roast rump of Tipperary lamb, pink and full of flavour, and the most tender lamb that we have ever tasted. It was marred slightly by a taste of commercial curry powder in the exterior crust, and the fact that it would have fed three people. The mountain of mash was fine, the caramelised onions were too sugary and the peas too shrivelled.
Confit organic belly pork was superb and came in two thick slices laid on top of a combination of baby potatoes and - I may have been imagining this but I don't think so - mashed potatoes, all anointed with something like balsamic vinegar, spice, onions, the occasional stray French bean, and heaven knows what else. It was too much for me.
A shared dessert seemed like a good idea at the time and so it proved. We had a Black Forest sundae, comprising intense organic Tipperary ice cream, both chocolate and cherry flavours, and black cherries in a Kirsch syrup. It was decadent and delicious.
With good, if rather long, espressos, and a bottle of red wine, our bill came to €105. The menu is studded with references to local producers, many of them organic; the dining room is functional and the service is charming. All in all, a place worth knowing about.
Gannon's Above The Bell, Pearse Street, Cahir, Co Tipperary, 052-45911