A former chef, Joe McNamee is Senior Food Writer at the Irish Examiner. Holding a BA in Culinary Arts, he writes about food and reviews restaurants for Weekend.
It’s been a pretty hectic few years for The Flynn Cush Hospitality Group. So much so, you’d nearly need culinary VAR to monitor all the comings and goings in the wining and dining branch of Ballycotton-man Pearse Flynn’s business empire.
As it stands, the portfolio now consists of Sea Church Ballycotton, The Salty Dog Ballycotton, and Cush X Salty Dog Midleton. Recently, they were joined by a new arrival, The Salty Dog, on MacCurtain St, with plans just announced for for Eyre Square in Galway, Dublin Airport and for Dublin city.
On a Tuesday night mid-September, surely all good children are to be found with heads back in the books, while adults put that glorious summer behind them in readiness for the slog to Christmas. Yet, by 8pm, The Salty Dog is heaving. Many are tourists, understandable in an area with so much nearby accommodation, from the grand old Metropole Hotel to myriad new additions of more recent years.
An American couple on our left venture that the room is “elegant”. More than a few bucks have gone into an attractive makeover, a considered and coherent maritime theme, deep blue walls and ceiling, softly lit images of Ballycotton landmarks and seascapes riding high on either side of the room.
I’m not sure, however, that I’d employ ‘elegant’ as a descriptor for a long rectangular room with a busy ‘thoroughfare’ running down the middle, tables on either side, as heavy traffic — both staff and toilet-bound customers — can at times become quite distracting.
For starters, La Daughter opts for crispy chicken wings (€12.95): Tender, juicy, with a nicely balanced sweet barbecue sauce. On the side, celery sticks and a blue cheese mayo that could easily wear more blue cheese to properly complement the chicken.
If I wasn’t reviewing, I’d most likely have ordered a bowl of Fred’s Mediterranean fish and seafood chowder: The standout dish of my visit to the Ballycotton Salty Dog last year. However, AAA-grade tuna tataki (€18.50) is excellent, seared to a nutty, near crisp, then sliced — the almost creamy, uncooked centre, sprinkled with black sesame seeds. It sits in a savoury-citric Asian-dressing — on the side, wasabi and pickled ginger.
The tuna is one of several starters also available as a main course, along with mussels, and breaded monkfish scampi, but the only two seafood dishes solely offered as mains are fish and chips, and pan-fried sea bass fillets. LD plumps for fish and chips (€22.95) but, with zero interest in eating imported farmed sea bass, I head back to the monkfish scampi.
LD’s battered haddock looks the part and tastes pretty good as well, golden craggy casing of crisp batter housing steaming hot fish that breaks away in pearlescent, sweet chunks. A rather anaemic tartar sauce, with too little of the tangy, sharp saltiness of capers, fails to crown the fine fish, and I suspect a pea and mint puree might have been made with dried mint rather than fresh for it has a curious and off-putting taste.
JJ Wall’s beef dripping chips are decent, floury on the inside with a winning crispiness to the exterior.
While waiting for our own main courses, I overheard a server explain to the Americans on our right, baffled by the word ’scampi’, that they are a piscine cousin to chicken ‘tenders’. It is a canny ‘translation’ of the breaded and deep-fried slices of monkfish that make up my main course (€32).
However, by the time the coating has reached the required golden crisp in the fryer, the rather thin slices of monkfish are overcooked, overly resilient to the tooth. A basil and lime mayonnaise with very little trace of basil and not much more of lime doesn’t help matters.
The starter version comes with a very decent tian of smoked salmon and potato bound together with mayo, but also serving it on the main course along with chips unnecessarily doubles up the carbs. Though the tian is better, I mostly eat chips — other than salads, fried components of a dish usually work best with other fried items.
LD’s dessert of chocolate fondant is sweetly pleasing though eclipsed by its supporting player, a punchy salt caramel ice cream. An organic Spanish verdejo (Navahermosa Sol, €35) is drinkable if uninspiring, of a piece with a concise but bland wine list.
The Salty Dog is a very smooth operation. Restaurant manager Todd Ryan combines a warm, winning manner with commendably attentive service, while directing his staff with discreet efficiency; and reasonable prices make for a family-friendly menu with a broad, crowd-pleasing sweep that won’t break the bank.
However, that menu is near equally divided between land and sea, with no daily fresh fish specials. In other words, this Salty Dog is almost halfway to putting the boat in dry dock and becoming a total landlubber. I’d happily return but hopefully to a few more proper Irish seafood options to sit alongside Fred’s chowder.
