Restaurant Review: L’Atitude 51, 1 Union Quay, Cork city
That I donned the black skullcap of condemnation before ever entering the place may reek of arrogance on my part but, over time, I’ve developed an uncannily prescient and too often accurate nose for this type of thing.
Or, perhaps, I simply couldn’t get my head around the notion that the late, greatly lamented Lobby Bar, a nationally-renowned music venue, could wind up as a ‘wine bar’ (a true pejorative for any veteran of 1980’s yuppie London, such as myself).
Then, one summery Friday afternoon, I went in to meet a friend. With sun spilling through myriad windows, we enjoyed a long, lingering lunch and I found myself loath to leave. I had fallen head over heels in love and have haunted the place ever since.
I’ve put down raucous nights of bubble and fizz; I’ve sipped single espressos by day. I’ve been to tastings, dinners, classes and quizzes. I’ve even cooked a charity pop-up upstairs in aid of Pieta House with Irish Examiner colleague Leslie Williams pouring wines.
My own pre-teen Beethovens relish popping in for hot chocolate after classes at Cork School of Music, along the quay, and visits on Paddy’s Day and Christmas Eve, in a few short years, have become family tradition. Every guest I’ve ever brought along, down to the most recalcitrant of old school beer slobs, has been similarly bewitched.
A damp and dreary night in early December further enhances the welcoming glow within. Mr Whippy (aka Marcus Hodder, one of Ireland’s finest ice cream makers) and I are in for an early start to Christmas, first ordering Howling Gale ales and criminally addictive toasted almonds.
In L’Atitude, the core philosophy has remained the same: food is there to serve and complement wine, not the other way around, and the uncomplicated offering blends judiciously sourced charcuterie and cheeses and dishes cooked in-house.
Our starters arrive. Duck Three Ways comprises compelling discs of waxy potatoes sautéed in duck fat, sweet, creamy On the Pig’s Back duck liver and port paté and excellent Ummera smoked duck.
Roast Bone Marrow is a rendition of a Fergus Henderson dish, from his seminal cookbook, Nose to Tail Eating, a note-perfect homage to one of the greatest and most influential dishes of the modern canon, beef bones sawed in half lengthways like canoes, hosting shivering marrow ‘jelly’ to be spread on sourdough toast, and daubed in a dressing of parsley, shallots, oil, capers and lemon.
With over 50 wines also available in smaller ‘taster’ servings, we roam across the list.
A soft and sensuous Samt & Seide Blaufrankisch (2013) pairs well with the aforementioned dishes but the marrow is surprisingly good with a white sauvignon, Chateau Turcaud Cuvee Majeure (2015), buoyant spiced fruits underpinned by serious oak.
Frank Hedderman’s Smoked Mussels in Wholegrain Mustard Vinaigrette, succulent and sublimely smoked molluscs, are delicious though the vinaigrette plays a tad rough with the wines.
A misunderstanding sees our main courses arrive while we are still immersed in starters and our counter space, an old slab of butcher’s block, becomes a bewilderment of plates and glasses —nothing for it but to pull up collar and head for the eye of the storm.
You’d imagine we’d have had our fill of duck but our rapid disposal of a glistening, gamey confit duck leg suggests otherwise. Chevre Chaud is French goat’s cheese, lactic tang softened in the oven, fresh salad leaves on the side.
This is the stuff of wintery comfort, crying out for some of my favourite warmers. H&G Buisson Saint-Romain Sous Roche (2012) is an already superb Burgundy with the promise of greater glories with age while Ciabot Berton Barolo La Morra gradually unfolds with an earthy undertow to its fruity spice.
Trebbiolo Rosso La Stoppa 2014 is good sport; full-on ‘natural’ farmyard honk may well dismay traditionalists and it comes over a trifle gauche in the company of the aforementioned ‘B-Boys’ but it is a whole lot of fun.
Though a veritable temple to the ‘Bacchus Juice’, L’Atitude 51 is so much more than just a ‘wine bar’ and, as for my predictions — well, I’ve never been so happy to be so completely wrong.
