Buzzing bistro

ATHLONE’S Left Bank is tailor-made for a mosey.

Squirreled away beneath the town’s Norman castle, it’s the kind of place with a nugget around every corner — poky bookshops, the Bastion gallery, a lock on the River Shannon, and even a bar (Seán’s) claiming to be the oldest in Ireland.

Every artsy quarter needs its buzzy eatery, of course, and since the mid-1990s that service has been provided by Annie McNamara and Mary McCullagh’s Left Bank Bistro.

Step through the doorway, and the first thing you see here is a wine bar weighed down with pavlovas, cheesecakes, Mississippi mud pies and tiramisus. A mosaic-tiled fish adds a quirky splash of colour to the floor. Pastas, olives, homemade breads, bottles of the bistro’s house dressing and other delectables sit temptingly on recessed shelves and the lid of an old piano.

It’s the kind of place you’d take for granted in Kilkenny or Galway, but that for some reason remains elusive in many Irish towns, particularly in the midlands.

I’ve visited several times, and on this occasion arranged to meet my Dad, K, for lunch. We pulled in separately off the M6, hooking up at one of a handful of tables by the big windows in front of the wine bar. The buzz of the bistro proper lay on a raised platform behind us, with its wooden floors, white banquette and clip-clopping footsteps as staff bustled between tables.

Annie McNamara was brought up in Australia, I read later, something that makes sense given the Asian and Mediterranean influences on a lunch menu pairing homely country cooking with open focaccia sandwiches, spring rolls, and hot dishes like a Tandoori chicken breast with garlic mayo.

You can also choose from a daily list of specials. Carrot and parsnip soup, spicy buffalo wings, tiger prawns in a wan ton wrap and a duck confit on mash were some of our options on a chilly winter’s day.

I began with the buffalo wings, served in a basket with stalks of celery poking from either end. The portion was generous; the wings gave off a terracotta-like glow beneath their garnish of freshly chopped parsley. Hot spice and succulent meat struck a nice contrast with a cool blue cheese dip, but I found the coating too soft and chewy to be memorable.

Meanwhile, K kicked off with the carrot and parsnip soup, also dotted with a clump of herbs. It arrived in a blue pottery bowl with two thick slices of homemade brown, and carried a real sweetness.

I had a similar winter warmer when I last stopped at the Left Bank Bistro, a spicy carrot and lentil soup that put the colour back in my cheeks after a boating trip on Lough Ree.

The brown bread divided us. I found it a little dry and crumbly, but K demolished both slices, bought a loaf to take home, and even asked for the recipe!

Next up for me was a house salad, served with two fat triangles of focaccia. Mixed leaves, cherry tomatoes, green olives, carrot shavings and lots of other treasure hid under a healthy grating of piquant Regatto cheese, topped with the house dressing. A tasty enough mix, as it would want to be for €10.50, and another huge portion.

Our second main course was a plate of butternut squash, feta and spinach tartlets from the specials board. These came drizzled in a pesto that played well off the gooey cheese, though a scattering of baked potato chips around the plate had lost their glisten and tasted rather dry.

Whilst there’s nothing earth-shattering about the food, I’ll always return to the Left Bank Bistro for its infectious atmosphere (on this visit, supplied by several chatty tables of ladies out to lunch), its lovely location, and its handiness as a pit-stop on the M6.

It’s a sweet place to sit, not to mention linger — there are 22 wines available by the glass.