Restaurant review: This Cork institution is a national treasure in the making

Tonight, it seems plugged directly into the national grid, the room alive with energy of deeply contented diners.

51 Cornmarket's Basque-style cheesecake is, to my mind, the very best version out there. Picture: Larry Cummins

51 Cornmarket

Our rating: 8.5/10

From the moment I first walked into 51 Cornmarket one sunny mid-morn back in that strange, strange summer of 2020, I was smitten. Certainly there was a touch of the surreal about that initial encounter: amidst the absolute hell that had been visited upon the hospitality sector, to find a freshly opened new restaurant was akin to stumbling upon a rare orchid popping up through a crack in the concrete.

Having opened just five weeks before the first lockdown, Anne Zagar and chef David Devereaux, business and life partners, had no choice but to plough onwards. However, both experienced pros, they didn’t dive in blind and instead delivered with such aplomb, both on the plate and with front of house service, that I became an instant fan. 

All that was missing was an evening service, for much as I love a long, lazy lunch, it will never replace for me the intoxicating magic of nocturnal dining when done right. That duly came to pass in 2022 but, on my visit, it was still a work in progress and, though still a very solid performance, I left feeling that there was so much more in the tank.

One recent Friday night, La Daughter and I, nicely primed following our aperitif in the truly fabulous Brian’s Wines @Plugd across the street, enter a room that was never shy of a buzz on any of my previous visits. Tonight, though, it seems plugged directly into the national grid, the room alive with energy of deeply contented diners.

Smoked almonds, from the Nibbles section of the menu, are something LD and I order whenever they are available, something to chew on while we ponder what we’re actually going to eat. Often as not, I don’t bother mentioning them, but these are especially good, not overly greasy and suffused with sweet, smokey paprika.

We begin with snacks. LD insists we order Cheesy Cheese Croquettes and it is a good call, nutty bechamel of Hegarty’s cheddar coated in breadcrumbs, fried to a perfectly golden crisp, and served with a dusting of pecorino and a fulsome date ketchup, date’s intense sugars cut with vinegar’s acidity.

Having opened just five weeks before the first lockdown, Anne Zagar and chef David Devereaux had no choice but to plough onwards. Picture: Larry Cummins

Spring West Cork asparagus is my own non-negotiable during Irish asparagus season, especially when it is the finest grown in Ireland, from Ultan Walsh’s Gort na nEan farm, in Nohoval. These verdant spears are sublime even when flying solo but Devereaux gambles and piles on the additional flavours. Risky, but it works wonderfully well: crispy egg, soft boiled, breaded and fried, oozes indolent golden yolk, saucing the asparagus; briny acidic anchovy is a gentle counterpoint; and roasted hazelnut adds sweet, nutty texture.

LD has progressed at her own pace in life when it comes to assimilating new flavours and I’ve learned not to push it. I’m more than happy to eat cured mackerel all on my own but I’m not remotely surprised when she is captivated by the very pretty pointillist plating, fish surrounded by perky dots of puréed pea, mint and yogurt. The curing is immaculately on point, tender without losing texture, the more usual oomph of mackerel’s oil, softened and sweetened, all in all, a delicious mouthful.

LD doesn’t hesitate when ordering her main course: grilled Rosscarbery steak, a fine hunk of beef, cooked to her request, a tad north of medium-rare to a becoming tender chew, flush with flavour, and takes it down like a post-Lenten lion at a gathering of gazelles. Mind you, a delightfully spry pink peppercorn sauce only enhances the eating and there is no gainsaying her ecstatic description of brown mushroom duxelles as being ‘really mushroomy!’.

I have chicken, breast and thigh, stuffed with chicken mousse and roasted on the bone for extra flavour. It comes with tender, toothsome salt-baked celeriac, black garlic, jus, half a confit onion, softened and almost sugary. It is very good but I consider docking LD’s pocket money for not sharing out more of the steak.

On the side, humongous house chips are very fine with roast garlic mayonnaise though the sprouting broccoli of our other side dish is probably past its seasonal peak.

The wine experience on my previous visit had been less than satisfactory but that is very much a thing of the past: from a concise but versatile list, I have a very good Syrah (Frigoula 2022 Azzoni Rhone, France — another from the Brian’s Wines list). Like all wines on Brian ‘Brian’s Wines’ O’Connor’s list, it is a natural wine, but nothing here to scare the traditionalists, crunchy cassis flavours and a long earthy finish, yet it drinks with a very, very bearable indeed lightness of being.

There is no way that we can even contemplate dessert. So, instead we just order it. Zagar’s Basque-style cheesecake, a dish I’ve had every single time since first visit. To my mind, it is the very best version out there of a dish that has become quite ubiquitous in recent times: served with fingers of rhubarb, this baked, set custard of eggs, milk, cream cheese and vanilla, is a minor miracle, each sumptuously elegant spoonful melting on the tongue leaving only magical memories … to be instantly replenished by yet another spoonful for more of the same.

A special shout out for service, too often a failing in modern Irish hospitality, but here presenting as personable, pleasant and very efficient, superbly marshalled by Zagar. No question, this now local institution is on its way to becoming a national treasure.

• 51 Cornmarket St, Cork T12 VK88
• Tel: [phone]
• 51cornmarket.ie