The Sunday Business Post, January 7, 2001.

Singing the Mermaid's praises

The Mermaid Café's large windows make it a perfect location if you want to see and be seen. A bit disconcerting, though, if you're Liam Lawlor. Once inside, any hint of a goldfish bowl is lost in the stylish modern décor. Wooden floors and solid chairs are expertly framed by warm grey walls. Very stylish, very 21st Century.

There were four of us for dinner. An old friend from London who is the very model of a modern budding diplomat, with a penchant for VSOP Armagnac. His flame-haired fiancée claimed this stood for Very Smelly Old Pants. We were accompanied by a delightful brunette from a Sunday newspaper which caters for readers of a slightly lower tax bracket. Never mind.

Two kirs were ordered and served perfectly blushed. The brunette had a glass of house white and the VSOP aficionado had a glass of Fino Muy Seco, a very fine, pale sherry which was perfect as an aperitif. He would have made a great vicar.

VSOP and the flame-haired fiancée met on a VSO year in Mamibia (I know, I was concerned too, but it stands for Voluntary Services Overseas). Both were in Ireland to prepare for their wedding in Kilkenny. VSOP explained that, in a break with tradition, there would be no morning suits and he would be wearing an Oswald Boateng number.

As best man I protested strongly and insisted on the traditional morning suit. He began to squirm uncomfortably and I was momentarily concerned that there was some truth in the very smelly old pants thing. The fiancée screamed with laughter: "That makes four best men so far and we still have five months to go." Apparently after a few glasses of Armagnac, just about anybody can be VSOP's best man. I graciously said I'd settle for pageboy.

Our Canadian waitress suffered our many questions on the wine list with great patience. We were given the most expert advice since the wedding feast at Cana. We ordered Cline Cellars Zinfandel 1997 (apparently it is the best producer of this wine). We all agreed it was a great wine: spicy, fruity, silky and warm. A fantastic buy at £20.

The waitress also recommended the Daniel Schuster Chenin Blanc 1996 from New Zealand. Described as fresh, dry, appely and flinty, it was all this and more; excellent with the fish too. We relaxed safe in the knowledge that our waitress would give us expert advice on just about anything - except possibly quadruple booking your best man. I ordered the winter salad with spiced pecans, blue cheese, oranges and endive. The brunette ordered the same and agreed that it was a perfect combination of flavours. She found it refreshing after the stodgy festive season. The split pea and bacon soup was so good that by the time I had glanced up from my salad the fiancée had hoovered it all up. She declared it delicious. Power-eating is obviously all the rage in London.

VSOP ordered the Mermaid antipasti which surprisingly was not cold meats but a selection of salmon, winter salad and nearly all the starters. A great idea and beautifully served. All three had been stunned by the taxi service in Dublin. Apparently it was easier to get a lift out in the wilderness in Namibia where everyone knew you even before you arrived.

I explained that for small journeys there were always the rickshaws drawn by young chaps with D4 accents (I suspect they only operate on the south side). Our musings were interrupted by the arrival of our main courses. VSOP and the fiancée had the roast pheasant stuffed with wild rice, bacon and Brussels sprout mash with a delicious elderberry gravy. The pheasant was moist and although the stuffing had the potential to overpower the bird, it worked perfectly. The gravy was an inspired finish.

I ordered the giant seafood casserole with Thai aromatics which was dramatically presented with Dublin Bay prawns standing tall around a virtual maypole of lemon grass. This was served in a light but spicy broth filled with monkfish and cod. Our table burst into spontaneous applause and several other tables joined in.

After I tasted it, I realised it deserved a standing ovation but felt it would be inappropriate to stand and applaud on my own. A creative use of Thai spices and delicious fresh fish produced the very best in modern Irish cuisine. The brunette had grilled filets of sea bass with black olive tapenade, fennel and red pepper ratatouille. It was expertly presented and a wonderful balance of flavours and colours. This Mediterranean-inspired dish hit the spot for her.

For afters, VSOP had some Very Special Old Pale Armagnac and was immensely cheered when it arrived. I had the Chateau Fontebride 1997, a Sauternes at £9.40 a glass which seemed a little steep when a half bottle is £18.80. It was delicious nonetheless and not bad with the spoonful of chocolate roulade, which everyone else claimed they weren't having. Including an extra sherry, mineral water and coffee, the bill came to £196.

The Mermaid is what dining out in Ireland is all about. With a sensible nod towards modern décor the real investment has been made in the food and staff. The evening was near faultless and it was a joy to have a waitress who not only knew all her food and wine, but offered her opinion with real enthusiasm. It offers the perfect restaurant trinity: superb food, great wine and faultless service. The mermaid is a legend of a restaurant.