Adare: Off to a fresh start
ADARE is one of those pretty places that has to walk the tightrope between realising its tourism potential and destroying the very quality or atmosphere that attracts tourists.
At a time when competition was never more cut-throat or visitors more fickle, this is a real, everyday challenge for what might be loosely described as heritage destinations.
On the day DW and I visited, the place was exceptionally busy, possibly because of Johnny Sexton and Laura Priestlyâs wedding, but it seemed to cope very well. We had already passed through cavalcades of horseboxes on their way to racing at Mallow and by-passed Buttevant to avoid the Cahirmee Horse Fair and all its, er, charms. So Adare was, relatively, a haven of calm.
The villageâs charms are obvious and though polar opposites to the confectionery-style excess of Bavariaâs Mad King Ludwig â though he was at least as tragic as he was bonkers â the village is as associated with its thatched cottages as Bavaria is with the bling of Neuschwanstein.
Wade Murphy and Elaine Hourigan Murphyâs newly-opened restaurant uses one of those cottages. When they opened last May they decided to give a nod to the placeâs heritage and name their brave venture 1826, marking the year the cottages were built. It is an open question as to whether Ludwigâs folly has seen more change since it was opened a chronologically-neat 60 years after the Adare cottages. It must also be a close-run thing to decide which has been photographed more often by cooing, stopped-in-their-tracks tourists.
Proving again that nothing is forever the 1826 menu represents a move away from Wade Murphyâs fine dining background, a move towards something more accessible and viable. It is one of those lovely places springing up around the country offering its own versions of popular, time-proven dishes â the familiar enlivened with a dash of in-house personality and kitchen skills.
Because the sun was shining â can there be a better reason? â we began with prosecco at âŹ8.50 a pop. It worked.
DW opened with Burren-smoked organic salmon and though no one has convinced me there can be any such thing as organic farmed salmon, this marketing swizz has, unfortunately, won widespread acceptance. In any event the kitchen made wonderful use of the fish and served it with baby potatoes, organic greens, and horseradish crĂšme fraiche. It was a fine, enticing overture. As was my starter â warm pan-fried chicken livers, pickles, piccalilli aioli, and greens. The earthiness of the offal seemed especially pungent and attractive on such a warm day â another victory for culinary and environmental counterpoint. Nevertheless, the ratio between the liver and its support cast could be reconsidered without any great difficulty and to considerable benefit.
For her main course DW asked for âbrick friedâ boneless half chicken, Asian fennel, cabbage, and peanut slaw with spiced yoghurt. This was almost reckless for DW, a challenge to her instinctively catholic tastes but she was â unsurprisingly â very pleased with the plate of succulent chicken and the bristling, uplifting extras.
My main course was a bit of a house special, 36-hour belly of pork. Pork belly may not be readily endorsed by weight watchers of the world but even the most blameless life deserves an occasional â if only it was occasional â flirtation with the gorgeousness, the duvet-deep pleasure of well-marbled, fat-dribbling pork. This was no exception and the meat retained its structure remarkably. It was so lovely that a slightly larger portion of meat would not have been an insurmountable challenge.
Desserts â sticky toffee pudding and an elderflower crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e â were excellent, too.
The wine, Kanonkop Kadette from South Africa at âŹ35, improved appreciably the longer the air worked its magic. It is one to mark down for an occasion when it can reach its best by opening a good while before using.
The Murphys have opened with considerable aplomb, enhancing Adare. If this very good meal was indicative they will continue in that vein.
