Restaurant review: The Legal Eagle, Dublin 1
My father was a terrible shot. Or at least that is how I remember it. His double-barreled shotgun was always in pristine condition, oiled and cosseted in its velvet-lined box but his shooting trips were frequently fruitless. We would trudge through the fields of a friend’s farm looking for things to shoot (pheasants, rabbits) but apart from a crow he shot to hang as a scarecrow to protect my mother’s raspberries, we always returned empty handed.
He was however, an excellent driver, and would regularly bring home rabbits and pheasant for my mother to cook which he had hit with his car on his long journeys as a travelling salesman. I have vivid sensual memories of my mother’s rabbit stew and pheasant pie and some of those childhood aromas (and emotions) came to mind during my visit to The Legal Eagle beside the Four Courts.
