Conrad’s back to Irish stew after soufflé crumples

SMALL is beautiful.

Although the celebrity chef was found innocent earlier this week on charges of theft relating to three paintings which went missing from his restaurant in the Fitzwilliam Hotel in 2000, the experience is not one he is likely to dine out on.

All in all, Gallagher spent six unappetising days in court hearing the ungarnished details of how his once towering food empire began to crumple like a bad soufflé. But at least, the non-guilty verdict will allow the one-time enfant terrible of Irish restaurants to restart a career that, like nouvelle cuisine, has often promised much but so far ultimately failed to surpass one's expectations.

Sadly, experience to date suggests his talents in the kitchen have not be matched by business acumen a fact readily acknowledged by several witnesses who gave evidence on Gallagher's behalf.

"I always thought he displayed bad judgment," said his former assistant, Sophie Flynn Rogers. She also confirmed, in affectionate terms, how Gallagher perfectly fitted the stereotypical image of celebrity chefs as firebrand characters with erratic behaviour. She recalled how he used to insist that he couldn't be told bad news at the start of a working day. "I had to tell him something happy," said Ms Flynn Rogers.

Although Gallagher's legal team liked to constantly portray their man as "the chef from Donegal" faced against an imposing array of solicitors and accountants working on behalf of the Fitzwilliam Hotel, Conrad's decision to forego similar professional advice in many of his business dealings was largely one of his own choosing.

Within a few months of becoming the youngest-ever recipient of a much-coveted Michelin star at the tender age of 26 in 1998, plus the birth of his daughter, Lauren and a guest appearance on the Late Late Show (always the height of good taste), things went rapidly downhill.

For many, the start of Conrad's well-documented financial problems can be traced to a fateful decision to move his award-winning Peacock Alley restaurant from its established base in South William Street to the nearby Fitzwilliam Hotel when it opened on St Stephen's Green in 1998. The trial heard last week from one of Gallagher's former personal assistants, Hazel Hurley, how the chef's business, contrary to claims by the Fitzwilliam, was far from insolvent at the time the restaurant relocated to the hotel. In nostalgic tones, Hurley described how the South William St incarnation of Peacock Alley was a thriving place, with a lengthy reservation list and a clientele which included so many VIPs that many of the staff felt "slightly in awe".

Opulence was the name of the game, but also a necessity for any restaurateur serious about retaining a Michelin star for his establishment. It explains why Gallagher stocked a wine cellar worth around £200,000, while the value of the restaurant's delph was another £90,000. It was

also a time when Gallagher's name was featuring as regularly in the social diaries of newspapers as the restaurant review sections due to his colourful personal life. He also indulged his love of art around the same time by buying a large selection of paintings to hang in Peacock Alley, including about 25 works by the artist Felim Egan. Three of Egan's collection were to be responsible for Gallagher's recent court appearance.

However, a simple exercise in mathematics might have alerted the flamboyant chef to the troubles that lay ahead with the move to the Fitzwilliam, as Hazel Hurley confessed she had major reservations about the wisdom of the relocation. While the new premises allowed Peacock Alley to double its seating to 160 places, the annual rent increased even more sharply from £25,000 to £80,000. The purchase of specially-designed plates at £95 a throw to mark his move to the hotel was, in hindsight, another grandiose gesture that Gallagher could not really afford.

There was much evidence during the trial to suggest that the Fitzwilliam Hotel was a very patient landlord towards the chef, whose own staff described him as energetic, if erratic. From the moment Ampleforth, the company which is the registered owner of the Fitzwilliam, became aware of his financial difficulties, it advanced him a £50,000 loan and a matching overdraft facility as well as paying £40,000 to consultants to organises his financial records. Fatefully, they also agreed to Gallagher's suggestion to buy a selection of paintings which were used in the restaurant for £20,000. The badly-drafted agreement used as the contract for this sale played a key role in the recent trial. Fortunately for Gallagher, the jury was probably persuaded by the ambiguous nature of the document which cast doubt over the ownership of the paintings.

However, unknown to the jury, Gallagher took the witness stand in their absence during the trial. Several observers claimed the chef's aggressive response to questioning by lawyers for the DPP provided his critics with further proof of their long-held belief that Gallagher has a temperament to match his flame-coloured locks. But equally, the 32-year-old father-of- one might have been upset to hear details of how he used Prozac to combat anxiety and stress caused by his crumbling business being made public. As for the future, Gallagher told close friends during a celebration party in the Four Seasons Hotel in Ballsbridge on the night of his acquittal that he sees no prospect of starting a new business in Ireland.

Although he claims to be virtually penniless and dependent on the generosity of friends since being extradited back to Ireland in April, he is also aware that financial institutions are unlikely to be queuing at his door to provide fresh capital.

It will also be interesting to see if Gallagher has the appetite for the natural corollary of his recent acquittal. Namely, that he should initiate a legal action to have the paintings returned by the Fitzwilliam. After all, while they fetched £8,400 when sold at auction in December 2000, their new-found infamy should ensure they have an even greater value today.