Restaurant review: Driftwood delivers with generous plates and a dramatic bay view

"Driftwood itself is extraordinary. A striking assemblage of rectangular boxes of glass and local stone nestles in a little dimple in the undulating lawns, protecting it from the worst south westerly storms of the Atlantic..."

Sun, 15 Sep, 2024 - 17:25

Joe McNamee

Driftwood Surf Café
St Finian's Bay, Rathkerin, Rathkieran, Cahersiveen, Co Kerry
driftwoodsurfcafe.com
How to: Wed/Thurs, 5.30pm to 10.30pm; Fri to Sun, 5.30pm to 11pm
The bill: €275 (excluding tip, including four cocktails, one mocktail, one bottle of wine)

Some of the most dramatic scenery of all on the Wild Atlantic Way is to be found from Glenbeigh heading west.

On winding roads that hug the edges of mountainsides, peering down to the vast expanse of ocean, the feeling of starring in a high performance car ad is only marred by an engine problem in my old bus that restricts me to 40kph.

Driftwood itself is extraordinary. A striking assemblage of rectangular boxes of glass and local stone nestles in a little dimple in the undulating lawns, protecting it from the worst south westerly storms of the Atlantic while still affording a fine view of St Finian’s Bay and the globally iconic — thank you, Mr Spielberg — Skellig Michael, all in all, a sublime marriage of modernity and the surrounding natural elements.

The interior is equally impressive, spare yet cosy and comfortable, with primary focus drawn to the remarkable vista.

The care, effort, and sheer volume put into starters is impressive and with some forewarning of the generosity, I’d very happily have ordered the lot as a series of ‘small plates’. (Hummus, with tapenade and flatbread, along with lamb arancini completes the section.)

Scallops are served the way I like them, seared in the pan till golden with coral still attached. Coral’s flavour-bomb impact is mellowed by airier partners on the plate: anise of celeriac purée, tart apple gel, seafood foam, and ribbons of fresh asparagus.

Monkfish ‘scampi’ plays fast and loose with what is commonly understood by the word, breaded prawns served up as addictive little gobbets of deep fried marine umami.

These large chunks of locally caught fish are rather more substantial in size but, whatever, you choose to call them, they are compelling indeed and, though the breaded shell is a tad robust, fish is fresh, and flavours sound, complemented by a zippy lime aioli.

Best of all is beetroot carpaccio, a refreshing lightness of being to sweet earthy wafers of the tremendous tuber, while Dingle Goat’s Cheese mousse adds salty, lactic tang, caramelised walnuts bring sweet textural crunch, and fresh salad leaves complete a delicious and vivifying dish.

In a restaurant so wedded to the sea, it is hardly surprising main courses are all about the ocean, including a daily special.

Mrs Potter’s pan-fried fillet of hake is good fish, well cooked with simplicity, as it should be, all fireworks taking place elsewhere on the plate; fillip of lemongrass infusing a creamy sauce, baby potatoes, bright with dill, and carrot purée, pickled fennel, and grilled asparagus.

Mr Potter keeps it old school, Fisherman’s seafood au gratin, which might have been my choice too if I wasn’t reviewing and summer hadn’t briefly remembered its lines.

It is a fine comforter, the white fish including more of that local monkfish in a very tasty cream whispering sweet maritime nothings.

I’d heard good things about Driftwood fish and chips and had a hankering for same, the right thing to do in such a location, but professionalism sees me opt for South Kerry rack of lamb — and it is absolutely smashing.

Meat is immaculately cooked, glistening, burnished oak brown exterior revealing a delicate pale pink heart, yet still exquisitely tender. It is served with mashed potato, red wine jus, tenderstem broccoli, onion marmalade, and sweet potato crisps.

Though I’d prefer an infinitely more unctuous mash, with much more butter and cream, the supporting cast hits its marks nicely though it would be far better suited to winter, even as we endure a summer that fancies it is auditioning for that role.

I’d have loved more summery, possibly Middle Eastern accents, and while the lamb is devoured by all three of us, there is less appetite for the remainder of the dish; to be fair, that is also down to the generosity of the starters that preceded it.

Our two wines, Atlantik, Albarino (Atlantik, Spain) and a Fleurie (Aime Piroux, Beaujolais), from a concise list are pleasant if unremarkable and the Fleurie requires an ice bucket intervention — adding a chill factor to certain lighter red wines is often recommended but this is more of a rescue mission to bring down a ‘high fever’.

Our dabbling in the dessert menu — again, old school, sundaes, brownie, and crumble — is tokenism after such a feed and a spoon or two of decent lime and mint crême brûlée with lemon sorbet and forest berry compote is as much as I can manage.

When local man Carl O’Connell and his Scottish wife, Jenny, first opened Driftwood, the plan was to bring innovation and intrigue to the cooking of local seafood, especially in The Bothán, their little sibling seafood shack which sits just below our view, down by the beach.

However, if Fáilte Ireland usually do a good job — and a superb job with the Wild Atlantic Way — the politically reactive actions of various other state departments over the last decade has tugged on so many random loose threads that tourism, one of our two most successful indigenous business sectors, will soon be in danger of unravelling completely.

Ballinskelligs and its hinterland, like many other tourist destinations around the country, is short of hospitality beds, a pinch felt even as anecdotal evidence suggests tourist numbers are well down this year, so the local market becomes ever more important.

Accordingly, the Driftwood menus have had to be nudged back towards more mainstream waters.

That is no crime and, it must be said, they still deliver in spades but I am now very firmly in the same camp as the O’Connells, fantasising about a day when they can deliver an offering as unique as their magnificent location.

The Verdict