Restaurant review: We wait for our mains for over an hour after ordering at Thompson's
The interior of Thompson's, Cork
7/10
Thursday night and I have rounded up all three of the progeny for a rare night out together to celebrate No 1 Son’s birthday.
With the other two lagging No 1, both still in their teens and currently indulging their junk food era, agreeing on a restaurant to satisfy all four of us can be tricky of late, so I reach for an old faithful: The promise of a steak dinner.
Thompson’s, on MacCurtain St, is on the ground floor of what was once part of the iconic Cork baker’s city bakery and HQ.
As a former industrial unit, the space is challenging: Low ceiling, piping and ductwork exposed, and stretching far back into the bowels of the five-storey building, scant natural light at the entrance entirely swallowed up a few feet inside the door.
A dark wood bar runs along the right; on the left are fridges where mighty cuts of beef are dry-ageing.
There are booths on either side before the room opens up to the rear, and walls are festooned with memorabilia celebrating the former bakery.
The restaurant is heaving, including several large corporate groups, Thursday being a popular night for employees of Cork-based multinationals to take visiting colleagues out for a night on the town.
The vibrant, raucous atmosphere has transformed the room into something akin to a wonderfully uproarious bierkellar at the Munich Oktoberfest.
Our table is the very last, near the end of the room, behind us an open space with two long unused tables, fire doors on the right, and, beyond that, large vats formerly belonging to Cotton Ball.
The local craft beer brewery was an original opening partner but recently closed for good and it feels a little like Siberia with all the dead space behind us.
I ask if we can move to one of the empty tables along the banquette closer to the action but my request is declined for reasons I don’t entirely follow, though they remain unoccupied for the remainder of the evening.
Thompson’s is essentially a steakhouse, trumpeting its dry-aged beef supplied by McCarthy’s butchers, Kanturk, and cooked on a Josper grill, the Rolls Royce of restaurant live-fire cooking.
Specials consists entirely of prime cuts, cote de boeuf to be shared between four with prices beginning at €100, rising to €150.
I’m up for sharing but an ailing La Daughter simply opts for a starter portion of buffalo-style crispy chicken wings coated in homemade hot sauce with blue cheese and celery (€12.95), while No 2 Son, who’d usually eat steak for breakfast, opts instead for traditional fish and chips, beer battered Ballycotton haddock with minted pea puree, homemade tartare, and chunky fries (€22.50).
I revert to a professional roaming of the menu, plumping for McCarthy’s wagyu beef burger (€20.95), with Rosscarbery Bacon crumb, Hegarty’s Cheddar, lettuce, pickles, carmelised onions, roasted garlic aioli, Cuthbert’s brioche bun, and chunky fries.
Only No 1 Son orders steak, an 8oz fillet (€34). The Thompson’s ‘manifesto’, advertising their 28-day aged steak cooked on the Josper, is prominently displayed just above the listing of regular steaks on the menu.
This would lead you to believe they are also 28-day aged beef — it turns out they are not. I only find out when I ask.
In addition, sides and sauces are charged extra, not included with the steak. No 1 Son orders creamed spinach potato gratin (€5.95) and bone marrow butter (€3).
We ask for a portion of panko-coated potato-filled croquettes with Hegarty’s Cheddar and scallions on harissa yogurt with curry aioli (€11.95) to keep us going while we wait for our main courses.
They are excellent, crisp coating, delicious molten, cheesy filling, although mayonnaise would probably have worked better than yogurt. They are gone within seconds.
We wait for our mains. And we wait and then wait some more, until a server removes the starter plate, saying she’ll ‘call away the mains’, though we’d requested them to come as soon as possible after ordering.
It is an hour and five minutes after ordering before they appear.
By now extremely ‘hangry’, No 2 Son bolts his solid fish and chips, the pea puree earning special praise as he mellows with eating.
The best an ailing LD can do is worry at decent wings before bagging the rest for when she ‘feels better’.
My burger is enjoyable, good meat, nice accompaniments and a bun that doesn’t dissolve into sogginess, an all too common occurrence these days.
All eyes are on No 1 Son’s steak. A nibble from the charred edge is highly promising, smoky umami to the fore but a mushiness near the heart suggests it has been cooked and then finished on the Josper.
A shame if so, as the Josper excels at cooking meat from raw. If I’m incorrect, then this steak could wear improvement.
Service may be spotty in places but is never less than charming, especially the barman who makes birthday boy a nice strawberry daiquiri.
It is a very, very tough time to be running a restaurant so the added pressure of incorporating the additional cost of spiralling beef prices to an operating model prioritising beef only adds to the myriad challenges.
Nonetheless, if steak is your USP, it needs to be top drawer every time out.
Thompson’s might not be my go-to for a date night but I’d happily return en masse with a larger posse — next time, hopefully, sited closer to the heart of the action.
- Thompson’s
- Thompson House, MacCurtain St, Cork
- Dinner and drinks, €177
- thompsonscork.ie
