Restaurant Review: Adare has fine dining as if to the Manor born

"Mike Tweedie’s menus will always have to be written with a weathered eye on the more conservative clientele - 90% American, many of them golfers, and safety over risk is the default option."

Sat, 10 Sep, 2022 - 02:00

Joe McNamee

The Oak Room at Adare Manor
Adare, Co Limerick
Tel. (061) 605 200
www.adaremanor.com

Roughly 15km from Adare Manor, I gun the engine to pass out yet another automotive malingerer, chomping at the bit to arrive at our destination, when our faithful jalopy suddenly ‘pulls a hamstring’, instantly arresting our charge as we shudder violently back into the slow lane and the ’95 Starlet driven by Methusaleh’s great-grandmother revs away at about 45kph, leaving us for dead in her dust.

I pull over to assess the damage but as my mechanical abilities stretch to putting diesel rather than petrol into the tank and getting it right, oh, pretty much most of the time, that proves a futile exercise. We drive the remainder of our trip in first gear, a steady 10kph, past the time appointed for afternoon tea, past the time appointed for leisurely swim and sauna and dangerously close to cocktail hour kickoff.

We eventually arrive at the gates of Adare Manor, wondering if we’ll make it to the door and if we might even fit in a quick podcast in the time it takes us to drive the final few hundred metres. At the entrance, the wonderful door staff gush sympathy and reassurance as a kindly valet sits in to bring it around to a rear courtyard. A local mechanic is already en route, though I spend the next half hour, one ear cocked for a merciful gunshot.

Believe me, dear reader, my pre-prandial and quite excellent Negroni is entirely medicinal!

When I first dined in the Oak Room, four years ago, chef Mike Tweedie’s ability was immediately apparent but he was still settling in, becoming acquainted with the local produce, the delivery on the plate hard to pin down in terms of provenance and terroir, the essential bedrock of a truly distinctive menu. But since then, I’ve watched from afar as Tweedie’s menus more and more reflect his deep dive into his hinterland; a culinary evolution is evident from the off as we begin with ‘snacks’.

Dooncastle Oyster, lightly steamed to plump up its nutty, saline flesh and remove the ‘viscosity’ that turns the likes of SpouseGirl off one of nature’s finest foodstuffs, is dressed with diced cucumber, green chilli, teriyaki sauce and sesame seeds, vibrant, playful fare.

Shorthorn bavette steak is served as tartare, sweet iron of the beef rendered sumptuous with egg yolk, acidity of pickled ransoms, a piquant counterpoint, combination of Singing Frog Gardens wasabi, from West Cork, and caviar, adding pungent potency to its umami punch. The choux pastry of a gougère encasing whipped Galway goat’s cheese, Gubbeen salami and truffle, is topped with a sweet, savoury brittle craquelin dough that combined with the lactic acidity of the cheese glosses this gorgeous mouthful with a lovely sugary, lemony tang.

After excellent house breads (sourdough; potato and onion seed bread) with Abernethy butter, we are on to lush Norwegian hand dived scallops (all Irish scallops are dredged), pearlescent white flesh finished in the pan to a golden amber and served with a flavoursome sauce of whey and fermented asparagus stock, montéed with butter and caviar, a sublime marriage of ocean and field.

Maintaining the marine theme, is roasted turbot, firm, meaty flesh served with girolles, Australian truffle, compressed in olive oil and salt and plush, savoury vin jaune sauce, Tweedie’s excellent and singular take on some classic old school cooking.

Next is Higgins’ beef cooked over charcoal, smoky musk to the browned exterior, sliced to reveal a seam of brazen pink flesh. Alongside, a fondant of braised oxtail and idyllic toothsome green beans. Red wine jus completes the dish. On the side, sinfully excessive buttered mash topped with airy, crunchy potato puffs.

Parteen strawberries is a demure offering, the first of the pleasant if overly predictable sweet courses, served with a raw milk mousse, nitro-ed milk ice cream and preserved elderflower and spruce oil, and then followed by another from the classic playbook, white chocolate and pistachio Florentine, layered with pistachio ganache, cherry paté de fruit, and finished with cherry and chocolate cremeux; on the side, pistachio ice cream.

Though I increasingly shy away from the decadently indulgent excess of old-school desserts, this is too well executed to abandon. Still, I do give petits four a skip, all apparently very decent, according to SpouseGirl.

Instead, I save myself for the cheese board, a splendid offering of 20 finest Irish farmhouse cheeses, my selection including Ballylisk Triple Rose and Cáis na Tíre, perfectly ripened and at an ideal temperature, a careful husbandry, shamefully rare in Irish hospitality.

New Danish sommelier Jonathan Jønsson is a real find. His pairings effortlessly deploy conventional classics from a mighty cellar to appease the traditionalists while also slipping in superb natural wines, reflecting his own and our particular passions.

Service is the greatest improvement of all: on our previous visit, it ranged from the sublime to the silly, the former and very excellent sommelier Jurica Gojevic alongside a bevy of young, charming but entirely amateur Irish ‘summer job’ servers; the entire floor team now comprises career professionals, equally charming but with essential skills to match.

Tweedie’s menus will always have to be written with a weather eye on the more conservative clientele, 90% American, many of them golfers, and safety over risk is the default option.

That is no bad thing in itself, for it has been a very good meal: quite faultless, superb local produce cooked in an easy, natural style yet with technical precision, finesse and spot-on flavours; luxury imported additions, truffle and caviar among them, are grace notes judiciously applied rather than lazy fallbacks to plug gaps in culinary imagination and, yes, there is now a pronounced sense of place.

Yet, I suspect Tweedie has so much more to offer, that his passions unbridled would result in real drama on the plate, and, I’ve said it before, if he ever gets to open his own restaurant, I’ll be at the head of the queue.

The Verdict