Restaurant review: New team breathes life into Kenmare’s Park Hotel
The interior of the Landline restaurant, Kenmare
I will never wind up swanning around in a gold-plated Roller on my wages but one of the perks of the job means every now and then you get to stay in some very swanky places. That includes the five-star Park Hotel in Kenmare.
One of the most common responses to experiencing such indulgence is that old canard, “I could get used to this” but, personally speaking, I’m not overly precious.
I recently spent two nights in a world-renowned five-star where I reckon even my stale breath would have been changed for fresh stuff if I’d asked.
Yet I then moved directly on to a three-star 30 miles away where the faint sting of tobacco smoke still lingered decades after the smoking ban and I could hear the people in the room next door putting on their socks. I slept just as soundly in both beds.
These luxury stays, generally the preserve of the fiscally privileged, may not be the first item I bring up during weekly gossiping at my Marxist-Leninist spinning class.
Nonetheless, it’s hard to gainsay such impeccable levels of pampering.
When the Park was under the old Brennan brothers’ regime, it was an archly traditional yet sublimely comfortable offering, flush with the very best of uniquely Irish hospitality and I relished my indolent luxuriating.
However, the one thing that underwhelmed in latter years was the cooking from a kitchen that had once popped but eventually seemed to run out of steam.
Much has changed under the quietly radical new ownership of Bryan Meehan and family.
They still treasure the venerable old building and that aforementioned hospitality, but the premises has been streamlined.
That includes replacing myriad portraits of ‘dead landlords’ — Meehan’s words — with his stunning collection of contemporary art, crowned by works from Sean Scully, several of whose pieces hover like guardian angels over the restaurant space; in prime position, Landline, for which the restaurant is named.
I am dining solo (such excellent company!) and address a very tidy menu, three courses, four dishes on each.
First up is bread: Decent sourdough and malty, treacly brown mini-loaf, sweet as cake, though I find the dilisk overplayed in a seaweed butter.
A gougère stuffed with chicken liver parfait, topped with pickled apple purée and black truffle is a winning mouthful.
I find it hard to settle on a starter, specifically to choose between quail and beetroot. On a previous visit, I had the quail, a sublime dish.
Game is almost obligatory on winter fine dining menus of high end hotels and while I love game, I’m not always enamoured with a tendency to assume it must only be delivered with rich flavours, verging at times on the bombastic.
Landline’s quail dish (stuffed breast, swede, Alsace bacon, winter chanterelle, pear) certainly dabbles in that spectrum of potency: Smoky bacon, wild mushrooms, black truffle, not to mind the gamey musk of the bird itself.
Yet the new head chef, James O’Sullivan has a lightness of touch that results in a more nuanced rendition, allowing individual flavours to breathe, hitting those heftier taste points without overwhelming the palate.
It is impressive, and I’d happily re-order. Yet, I am a sucker for beetroot.
Little Black Hill Farm beetroot, lemon ricotta, almond, apple, plum dressing is a smashing dish, delivered with a similar subtlety of approach.
Golden baby beets are lush, even sweet, while thin ruby discs of salt-baked beetroot mine earthier depths, rounded out by tart-sweet plum.
In contrast, Macroom buffalo lemon ricotta is fresh, creamy, uplifting in its gentle acidity, echoed by the clean, bright kiss of dill-compressed apple and peppery mustard frisée.
Candied almonds are a delightful grace note, their sugared nutty crunch a playful contrast of both texture and flavour.
Though not in the mood for a medley of venison, I could easily have opted for Black Sole Grenobloise and am very sorely tempted by a wild mushroom risotto, but a craving for primal comforts wins out.
Ribeye of Hereford is excellent, tender, pink meat capped with a savoury caramelised sear and, on top of that, succulent hen-of-the-woods mushroom that is almost as meaty.
Sauce Béarnaise may be unctuous but it also packs a sharp and muscular astringency, working equally well with the meat as it does chunky chips, stacked like girders in neat piles.
Sides are super: Flavoursome roasted carrots are sprinkled with sunflower seeds caramelised with maple syrup and rock salt; colcannon is a beautiful buttery beast.
Near incapable of bypassing a coffee-flavoured cake or dessert, I order Blue Bottle Coffee crémeux, croissant ice cream, mascarpone.
It is smartly crafted yet lands in homely fashion on the palate. Fine coffee-soaked sponge, velvety coffee namelaka (a Japanese cousin of ganache), croissant brittle and almond praline, all finding their safe space with sweet, creamy mascarpone and a well-balanced ice cream there to wrap arms around the whole schemozzle.
Factor in excellent service and it is a very wonderful dining experience — I had no notion of reviewing when I sat down but, by the time I finish, I’m dying to share the joy.
The kitchen has been reinvigorated under James O’Sullivan, a hidden gem to have emerged from the old kitchen team.
He presents as a quiet and unassuming character, those tendencies also evident in his unshowy though precise and technically assured delivery.
It certainly ticks the luxury food box but more importantly it is damned tasty and is only going to get better as O’Sullivan grows into his new role.
- Landline at the Park Hotel Kenmare
- Shelbourne Street, Kenmare, Co Kerry
- parkkenmare.com
- Dinner €95pp
- Joe was a guest of the hotel but paid for his meal in full.
