Good One

If there's one teeny drawback to writing a restaurant column it is this: being buttonholed by people all the time and told about a place that's so good, it has to be reviewed. This is wearing after a while, but it is interesting that the same few recommendations come up all the time. One restaurant constantly mentioned is One Pico in Dublin's Camden Street, and the chance finally came to try it out when some American friends invited us to meet them there.

Just inside the door is an absolute barrage of framed reviews, interspersed with chef-owner Eamonn O'Reilly's signed and sealed certificates of excellence. To look at it all, you would think One Pico had been in business for at least 100 years but no, it has only been here, in a converted Georgian building that also houses a small hotel, since 1997, and O'Reilly is just 28. He landed here after stints in a string of hotels including the Westbury, the Sheraton in Casablanca, and lots of pit stops in America including Los Angeles, where he once worked in a place at One Pico Boulevard, hence the name.

He might be regretting the name because plenty of people are confused by it, thinking that One Pico might be some funny Mexican or Spanish place that's best avoided. Then there's the location. Camden Street may be up and coming but it hasn't arrived yet and lots of people who have £40 to £50 a head to spend on a good meal may not want to stray too far from St Stephen's Green. Still, One Pico does a cracking trade, particularly among well-heeled tourists since it gets a mention in the Michelin Guide.

Our friends were installed in the waiting room, which otherwise was empty and, since no-one had come near them with menus, were reading the visitors' book. According to the most recent comments we could expect great food but terrible service. "A hello or a goodbye would be nice," was one remark, while another visitor complained the under-staff were particularly off hand. Indeed, no-one came to say hello to us either and we didn't hang around too long in this room with its mingled smells of damp (the ceiling looks as though it's about to collapse) and air freshener.

On to the dining room, where we had a nice table beside one of the windows, backed into a big, old fireplace. Decor is surprisingly old-fashioned but again this helps to create a sense of this being a classic restaurant rather than a Johnny-come-lately sort of place. Think venerable, gravy-smelling-club diningroom meets a pot of terracotta paint, and you'll have the idea.

There were only three or four other tables taken and only two people serving, both nonchalant types who came across as very assured but quite indifferent, as though this Monday evening was just a warm up for the busier nights ahead. It was very warm and one of them had great patches of damp showing through his shirt. We didn't mind, but some people would find that off-putting.

Richard had brought a bottle of wine he particularly likes and told the waiter that it was a special token for our 15th wedding anniversary, which was a complete lie. The waiter looked incredulous as the plastic bag was produced, but then took the bottle off, opened it and left it on the mantlepiece to breathe, all without a murmur and without charging corkage, which was decent. To make up for this bit of cheek, we ordered an expense-account bottle to start with, a £38 ere Premiere Cru Chablis from Albert Pic that slipped down with amazing ease, and a sort of honey aftertaste I would like to become more familiar with.

Big, bright-orange menus were handed around and a plate of different types of bread appeared on the table. Black bread flavoured with Guinness was almost as good as the tomato, which can be horribly sour but in this case was packed with flavour and a brilliant colour.

The food took us all by surprise. Richard and Kate insisted it was the best meal they had had anywhere for a very long time. We couldn't believe you could get such a good meal in a three-quarters empty restaurant on a Monday night when the kitchen was most likely not working at full throttle. It was very, very good and not overly expensive. Starters range from £3.50 for wild mushroom cappuccino soup to £7.95 for Dublin Bay Prawns while the most expensive main course is just under £16.

If you love all things chocolatey and creamy then go easy on the starter and main course because there is a superb choice of rich, home-made desserts and some gorgeous sorbets and ice creams. Dithering between crispy duck and bayonee ham with celeriac remoulade, I finally ordered oysters tempura to start. This is a perfect dish for people who like the idea of oysters but aren't mad about the texture. The oysters are sealed in a light tempura coat, put back in their shells and served on a bed of rock salt. You could still taste the sea from them and that was enough for me.

David got a little hillock of silky, perfectly cooked risotto with a blood-red slice of chorizo on top while Richard and Kate chose slender spring rolls filled with crab, spring onion and ginger. These came prettily served on a big plate scattered with curls of carrot and flat parsley. They were, they said, epic - superb. Everyone was in flying form by then, thanks to the Chablis and the prospect of Richard's nicely chambreed Spanish red standing up.

As a main course I had breast of free-range chicken that came with a herb mix under the skin, and a round bed of roast bacon mash. Richard and Kate's salmon teriyake was also shaped into a cylinder, while David's rack of lamb came resting against another smooth round of rosemary-scented gratin. The salmon was heavily crusted with sesame seeds, and came resting on a vivid heap of samphire and Asian greens.

My chicken had a genuine farmyard taste to it but the breast looked a bit shrunken on the plate, and might have been more appealing in slices. It came with an intense morel and chive cream sauce that was absolutely faultless. The waiter had recommended in a selection of vegetables - but not in that sneaky offhand way they do it in some restaurants where you end up paying about £20 for some greens and potatoes. Instead, he told us exactly what he would bring. We got sauteed potatoes, new potatoes, and more Asian greens all served in (rather silly) little copper saucepans, all of it coated in butter or oil - which, again might not suit some diners.

I finished with a warm Valrhona chocolate tart that was exquisitely dark and rich and just barely sweet. The pastry crust didn't strike me as 100 per cent fresh, though. Forkfuls of it were handed around the table and in return I tasted a fine bitter-lemon tart, a baked cheese cake with praline swirled through it and a top class creme brulee.

Two other small complaints: mineral water only comes in small bottles and the coffee was bitter. Otherwise, a great evening. We paid just over £183 -not bad value since it included the expensive Chablis, dessert wine and service of 10 per cent.

One Pico, 49 Lower Camden Street, Dublin 1, Tel: 01-4780307

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