Roly’s Bistro

My predecessors in the editorial hot seat established a rule whereby we gave a new restaurant a chance to bed down before we reviewed. I’ve modified this policy somewhat. I don’t see why restaurants should be allowed to rehearse at the diner’s expense – if things aren’t at least 90% perfect from Day One they should postpone opening. If you buy a e150 CD player you expect it to work right out of the box. Why can’t you have the same expectations of a e150 meal? The other reason is perhaps less controversial. If we allow new restaurants six months’ breathing space every other critic – from the Times and Indo to the Paolo Tullio wannabes at Forecourt Chronicle and Welder & Chicken Sexer – will have published their review before we do. Sometimes we’ve overcooked the ‘Let’s leave ‘em alone until they get it sorted’ dish. The other day I looked through our records to find we’ve given Roly’s eleven years to get their act in gear. Ooops!
My dining companion, Daughter Two, would prove an invaluable ally; she has qualifications and experience in this hotel and restaurant thingy and was well on her way to starring in a maîtresse d’ role when une confrontation à table with the massed gropers of a south-east London Nationwide League soccer team caused her to question the meaning of ‘hospitality’ as used or abused in ‘hospitality industry’ and take her talents into another sphere. Eagle-eyed as ever, she empathised with the young waiter juggling silver-serviced bread rolls; noted that staff were aware of where diners were at in the meal and likewise of what colleagues were doing – teamwork born out of good training. She singled out one waiter, a black guy, for special commendation. Apparently his name is Melody but I’ll refrain (almost) from puns and just say he seemed to be enjoying his job.
Roly’s wine list has been praised for offering a spread of decent bottles at moderate cost. Prices indeed proved sensible up and down list. I can’t imagine there are many Dublin restaurants that would sell you a bottle of Dom Perignon 1995 for e131 or Jaboulet Châteauneuf du Pape for e40. However, these jaded and cynical old eyes felt the list screamed ‘failsafe compilation from the bigger operators’ – it would benefit from the same imagination that’s bestowed on the food. It bothered me that I couldn’t recall the name of Roly’s sommelier – do they have one?
I had a yen to know more about Los Llanos Gran Reserva (e23.95) one of the more esoteric bottles. The waiter said “It’s from Spain, hang on a minute.” An American girl imbued with the familiar desultory ‘thank you, have a nice day’ manner came to table and advised “It’s from Spain,” disappearing before I could say “Yes, I know that, dear, it says so on the menu.” The wine turned out to be from Penedes and was 1998 not ’97 as listed; it traded vibrancy for fading grandeur, very like yesteryear Rioja Gran Reserva, but appealing enough in its idiosyncratic way and suited both mains fine.
Roly’s was abuzz. I really like the downstairs room with its Parisian bistro atmospherics. One criticism you hear is that the tables are cramped but I find this harsh. There’s plenty of room even for diners with elbows like Harley Davidson handlebars and as for eavesdropping potential, well, ain’t that what Dublin dining’s all about? Who wants to eat where you can’t sniff the odd whiff of gossip, rumour or scandal?
We kicked off with the deep fried goats cheese, roast tomato salad and tomato relish, now thankfully passé enough to be enjoyable; and with the Castletownbere crab toes, accompanied by linguini pasta and lemon balm cream, an absolutely stellar starter, picture-perfect and harmonious. A couple of glasses of Albert Pic’s steely food wine Chablis enhanced the pleasure.
Rachel settled on the fillet of Irish beef Bourguignon-style with horseradish creamed potato – flavoursome beef arrived, cooked medium with exact precision, as requested. Perfectly executed, stylish comfort food. I opted for the intriguing ‘assisette’ (sic) of duck. It turned out to be leg, breast, and those delicious bits that, when I cook duck, never reach the table, coming braised, roasted and parceled up in pastry, respectively. A generous drizzle of honey and lime cream counterpointed the robust flavours. Despite a more than usual interesting array of potatoes and veg, we just ordered a bowl of sugar snap peas to bump up the crunch factor. We were saving ourselves for desserts, so often a weakness but at Roly’s invariably a triumph.
I ordered baked Alaska, a most un-me thing to do. Maybe it was the ‘blueberry’ soup that tempted me to forsake the crème brûlée with apple tatin and brambly sorbet. Luckily herself is a brûlée maven too. Both desserts proved as good to eat as they were to look at and that’s saying a good deal.
Sorry lads but I have to say it – e2.45 for a cup of espresso (woeful, too) is taking the piss. Yeah, I know it’s around the going rate but… Even had they used – which I doubt – Illy, the Rolex of coffees, a shot wouldn’t cost more than 28p. Why keep the mark-up civilised on wine then jack it up ferociously on coffee? A rhetorical question, methinks.
Settling the bill, we encountered the American lass again. If she ever wants to double-job, her put-upon aura would well qualify her as a re-folder of sweaters in a Benetton shop.
For the record, all we ate and drank cost e138.45 including service. Minor quibbles apart, we really enjoyed our evening. Food was exceptional, service well up to the mark. The talents of Colin Daly and the estimable Paul Cartwright are such that Roly’s could position itself wherever it wanted to in the restaurant spectrum. Joy, joy that they decided to go for the great food/good value end of the rainbow.

Roly’s, 7 Ballsbridge Terrace, Dublin 4 Tel: (01) 668 2611/0623
Lunch, daily 12-3. Dinner, daily 6-10.