Bistro Spice

This low key Indian restaurant has been in existence for the past seven years, so the waiter told me. How come I never dined there, never noticed it come to that? I was pointed in the direction of Bistro Spice only recently, via a discussion on my website as to our ‘Favourite Irish Restaurant’. One contributor volunteered Mint, Alexis, Thornton’s, L’Gueuleton, all mainstream names and “…a little BYO Indian in Monkstown called Bistro Spice.” I was immediately intrigued.
Accordingly, Pearl, Ruby and myself found ourselves peering through the gloom on yet another God-awful night, straining to discern the whereabouts of the restaurant which we, had been told, was “near to Goggins’ pub”. This proved correct. It was strategically located next door to an off licence which must be doing rather well out of the juxtaposition, judging by the number of diners who kept exiting, to return a few minutes later with another bottle of wine.
The place is tiny. One long, narrow, plain room affording exactly 30 covers provided number 30 doesn’t mind getting repeatedly slapped in the back of the head by the front door. Front of house staff, two, were attentive and enthusiastic. The BYO facility is very agreeable. I spent a very pleasant half hour before setting out selecting bottles to drink with spicy food. Well, that’s not quite true. I picked out a bottle of Sancerre, Le Chatillet 2007, because I wanted to road test it. It’s scheduled to feature in Superquinn’s forthcoming French Wine Sale and this is one wine I’d definitely recommend. And, as God made the 70 centilitre bottle because that’s what he believed a man should drink, I also nabbed a red, a 2002 Custodian Grenache from the very savvy house of D’Arenberg. The sweet fruit was still well upfront and the sheer vigour of this wine would stand up well against the spices.
‘Indian’ (meaning Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi, by and large) food has now evolved into three categories here in Dublin. Firstly, restaurants such as Jaipur, Shakra, Kinara and Rasam are offering a dining experience comparable to those of other cultures – comfortable, even luxurious restaurants; trained front-of-house staff; distinguished chefs who, either through historical research or their own inventiveness, are constructing menus far removed from the baltis, bhunas, vindaloos and dansaks we’ve come to regard as the norm. Secondly, there are local ‘curry shops’, some fine, some dire, purveying the standard fare – in certain cases the description ‘bog standard’ would be damningly appropriate! Lastly, a few are bridging the gap by offering good, regionally-based cooking in plain locations at attractive prices. Bistro Spice falls into this category, its appeal enhanced by the ‘bring your own bottle’ policy.
Much of the mystique and magic of Indian cookery has been swept away by the supermarkets who now sell bottled sauces, curry pastes and most of the individual spices needed to cook in the idiom. Asian grocery stores and supermarkets provide access to the more exotic items. At the same time it’s the manipulation of these flavourings in combination that makes the difference between a good Indian cook or chef and a bad one. To use a football analogy, it’s all very well having a team of ‘galacticos’ but if you can’t get them to gel you won’t win trophies. The essence of good Indian food is that the core materials – the meat, the fish, the vegetables – taste of themselves and retain good flavour and texture while absorbing the character of the spices used. My Rampuri, a hot lamb curry, was generously laden with moist, succulent meat and while the sauce was cohesive, I could still pick out some of the spices employed in the blend, notably black cardamom and cloves. The ‘heat’ element was equally complex, much more than a mouth-searing assault on the senses.
I had also ordered a side of dal tarka, lentils with ginger, garlic, mustard seeds and cumin, as this simple dish is a good test of an Indian cook’s capabilities. Poor dal is just a watery mush. The trick is to have the pulses just the far side of ‘al dente’ and the sauce rich and silky and this one did. Ruby took the jumbo prawn biryani, plentifully endowed with fat, juicy prawns buried in gorgeous spiced rice. Pearl ordered a lamb Malai. The tender lamb came bathed in a creamy almond and cashew nut sauce, garnished with honey and dried apricots which, from the description I’d thought might be too cloying. In the event it wasn’t, making a pleasing contrast to my Rampuri. Sated and satisfied, we couldn’t manage a dessert apiece but three large balls of ice cream, swathed in a piquant mango sauce rounded off the meal nicely.
Bistro Spice is a difficult one to mark. The quality of the food is exceptional, so no problem there. The staff are friendly, helpful, knowledgeable. On the other hand the décor would come a poor second to your average works canteen. Then again the ambience is driven skywards by the welter of conversation. With every table filled, some turning over twice, the place was abuzz. But Ruby went to inspect the plumbing and came back unimpressed – “on a scale of nought to ten, about one”. So come on guys, get your asses in gear; a tin of paint, a few strategically placed tiles, Cif, Domestos and regular inspections will get things up to speed. And a (working) hand dryer.
Privvies apart, we all thought BS was a hit. I certainly won’t leave it another seven years until my next visit.

Bistro Spice, 101 Monkstown Road, Monkstown, Co. Dublin Tel: 01 230 4555

The damage: £80 including tip for 4 dishes plus boiled and pulao rice and nan. BYO wine (no corkage).
Ambience: ***
Quality: ****1/2
Service: ****
Value: ****
Overall: ****