BEAR Dublin

To my limited knowledge a Bear is either a large, sometimes angry woodland animal or a big bearded homosexual man. I think it was the latter they were alluding to when they named this restaurant.

BEAR Dublin opened in a blaze of publicity earlier this year as a collaboration between concept restaurant kingpin Joe Macken and Irish rugby star Jamie Heaslip. Jamie has caught a fair amount of flack in the media about this with many commentators saying he should stick to the rugby. I however think that’s nonsense, why shouldn’t he open a restaurant? His huge public profile guarantees publicity and if the place is any good the punters will keep coming back. It’s a no brainer and a canny move on himself and Macken’s part.

The concept of the restaurant is absolutely fantastic. The whole menu is built around weird and wonderful steaks that have fallen out of fashion due to the public’s infatuation with tender, flavourless and due to their popularity, expensive meat.  Names like Bavette, Onglet and London Broil jump off the menu screaming at you to order them. Being the slightly strange person that I am I’ve gone searching for these steaks in butcher shops only to be told they don’t have them, or in some cases, they don’t exist!

Having been in the same venue in its previous Crackbird incarnation the place hadn’t changed much at all. Joe’s signature hanging lightbulbs and unisex toilets are a standard in all of his joints but this was slightly more refined, lots of polished brass lifting it from the junkie cool of its youth into something more grown up and less extrovert. Great sounds on the stereo too, who doesn’t love disco? The standard high stools and communal tables remain though which clearly mark it out as his personal restaurant design aesthetic.

The menu reads brilliantly, lots of the aforementioned steaks to share coupled with starters all served with toast. We kicked things off with two jam jars (yes, more jam jars) of Joe’s now famous lemonade. Whilst being delicious it wasn’t as good as I remembered. I noticed the barman pouring the lemonade out of a beer tap which might go some way to explaining this, Joe has obviously “gone stadium” and is mass producing his lemonade on an industrial scale. It honestly looked like the barman was topping up pints of Guinness. Good stuff though and he should probably think about selling it in off-licenses.

Deciding to share a starter due to the incoming meat festival we opted for the “Hen Egg & Truffled Mayonnaise”. This was incredible. While only really being a poshed up egg mayo on toast it certainly added up to more than the sum of its parts. Part of me wanted to dislike this starter as adding truffle oil to a dish (if you think you’re getting fresh truffle for under a fiver you’re totally insane) is the mark of a pretty lazy chef, adding a “luxury” ingredient to make something boring more interesting. It was delicious though, like the best egg mayo you’ve ever had; creamy and comforting, and everyone likes putting things on toast. Top marks for presentation also.

After nearly 30 minutes of waiting our Onglet finally arrived, in fairness to the excellent staff they told us there was a delay in the kitchen. It came out bloody as hell (as requested) and there was zero “blood” on the plate, this is a very good sign, it means the meat has been rested properly and not just flung from the grill to the plate. If you are ordering something like this you have to accept you’re not going to glide through it with a butter knife. The best way to eat it is to cut the meat against the grain of the muscle, look closely if you’re eating one and you’ll see what I mean. The meat itself was excellent, obviously chewy but with unbelievable flavour, a worthwhile trade-off. A slightly frustrating side issue is that due to the strange shape of the meat parts of it are raw and parts are well-done, this is obviously no fault of the restaurants though. A brilliant and slightly different steak, highly recommended.

We ordered the steak with three different sauces: Horseradish Bechemel, Chimichurri and Peppercorn Whiskey Butter. None of these were above average but I suppose you shouldn’t really need sauce with big flavoured proteins, or maybe I’m making excuses.

Sides consisted of the now famous “Million Dollar Fries” and “Cheese N’Onion Rings”. When I first heard about the Million Dollar Fries they sounded like pure genius. I thought Joe must be the Mozart of Maris Piper, the idea coming to him in a dream or like when alcoholics refer to having “a moment of clarity”. Deep fried potato gratin speaks to me, deeply. How could you not love the idea of thinly sliced potato, layered between a garlic cream sauce, deep fried to perfection.  These weren’t perfection though, my heart sank.  The sauce was far too rich and the potato, while appearing crispy, wasn’t nearly crispy enough. They were far from terrible but unfortunately never reached the heights I expected. The onion rings were decent if a little heavy on the Pecorino.

BEAR Dublin is good but not brilliant. The concept is fantastic and Dublin certainly needs more of this kind of thing so kudos to Jamie and Joe.  I can tell there is a great restaurant in there somewhere, the slight creases just need to be ironed out. Total bill was €55 and that isn’t bad value for what we had. Go and check it out for yourself, it’s not just for big bearded homosexuals.

***/*****

The British Street Food Awards

Back in the middle of September I decided I’d take a trip over to London to visit my brother and of course do some serious eating, eating being the point of all of my holidays.  However it was only by chance that a couple of days before I left that I came across something called “The British Street Food Awards” on a food blog and realised then that this was now the purpose of my trip. Who could turn down the chance to eat at some of the most celebrated and venerated food trucks from all over the UK, all in the same place at once. This was The Oscars of street food and I accidentally fell arse first straight into the middle of it.

The whole operation is run beside Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen restaurant in Hoxton and he has some involvement (though how much I’m not sure of). Fair play to him anyway for whatever his role is, it’s a brilliant idea and the whole street-food movement in the UK has really exploded over the last couple of years (something which I suspect will blow up in Ireland in the near future).  We arrived at 12pm and a serious crowd was already gathering, the sunshine really dragging the punters out in droves. First up we went to the bar and of course it was a craft beer bonanza, no Heineken taps in this joint.  We tried some of their unique cocktail creations which were filled with pomegranate segments, fresh ginger and whatever else the hipster bartenders could conjure into a cocktail.

First up on the food mission was a Fried Chicken joint called Spit & Roast (we see what you did there lads). These guys seemed to be one of the main attractions as I queued for probably 30 minutes for a bite of a chicken bap served to me by a dude who I’m nearly sure was Jarvis Cocker. Fried Chicken is the food trend of the year and Spit & Roast seem to have hit everything pretty much spot on, bang on the Zeitgeist if you want to sound like a wanker. All they were offering was a “Buttermilk Fried Chicken Thigh, Apple and Celeriac Slaw in a Bap” and wings. The 30 minute queue was worth the wait though, it was bloody sensational. Chicken thighs are a much better option for something like this as they don’t dry out nearly as quickly as breasts. The thigh was coated in a delicious spicy seasoning and served in a basic bap with outstanding slaw. There was also a delicious bbq sauce tying the whole thing together, really top notch stuff.

We also tried some of their wings and they continued the poultry excellence.  Coated in the same seasonings as the thigh they were amongst the finest I’ve eaten (didn’t even require Franks, now that is something) the one thing you could really taste was the quality of chicken. Big meaty wings which don’t taste like rock hard hammers which have been chucked at you from over the counter by Charlene the waitress from Eddie Rockets, are something to be savoured and appreciated.

Alright Jarvis!

Next up on the awards trail were a Welsh seafood crew called Café Mor. These guys were also pulling the crowds big time, queuing for extended periods being the order of the day. Such were the big crowds at the event that the organisers took to twitter to apologise for the long delays. No matter, it’s great to see so many people interested in what has established itself as a food phenomenon, this all leads to a raising of standards and a public rejection of paying 8 quid for a Big Al’s burger from some truck smothered in that Kandee Ketchup you used to get at school.

Anyway, back to Café Mor, I’d never heard of them before, probably because they’re Welsh so I was interested to sample what seafood they had on offer. Of all the stalls there on the day their menu was probably the most extensive, most of the other vendors opting for two or three offerings each.

First up was the Lobster Roll. If I see Lobster Roll on a menu I’ll step over my own grandmother to get it. It’s the perfect balance of luxury and poverty rolled into one; decadent lobster meat stuffed into some unassuming bun (usually of the cheap hot-dog variety). This one didn’t disappoint, loads of fresh lobster with very few adornments (i.e none), served in a roll of some description.  It was accompanied by a very decent coleslaw (forget fried chicken, this is the year of the coleslaw, it seems to come with everything). All very good and while not being the best Lobster Roll I’ve ever tasted (thank you Burger + Lobster) it certainly was very good nosebag.   

Next was a selection of their “Hot Seashore Wraps”. Now I thought I knew what a wrap was but this certainly wasn’t it. I watched the guys making and cooking them on a sort of giant paella pan and from what I can gauge I would describe them as “Savoury Stuffed Dumplings”, they obviously prefer “Seashore Wrap”. 

The first of these was “Wild West Pembrokeshire Crab with Sweet Chilli Sauce, Sweetcorn and Spring Onion”. The crab tasted ultra-fresh and nothing beats that straight out of the sea flavour you get from quality seafood. The sauce kicked proceedings up a notch but the addition of sweetcorn didn’t do it for me. I’m not a big fan of sweetcorn anyway but texturally I didn’t think it felt right (Note: this dish went on to be the overall winner in the “Best Sandwich” category at the awards which makes me question who and how they're scoring this thing).

Their next wrap was “Smoked Welsh Sewin with Cream Cheese, Lemon Zest, Dill and Laverbread”. Sewin is sea trout and this was absolutely delicious. It should’ve been obvious anyway as rich cream cheese cut with lemon adding some nice fragrant dill is a classic combination. This working in tandem with the sewin should have alerted me earlier to the fact that I shouldn’t doubt the trout. You couldn’t taste the laverbread anyway which was a huge bonus. Laverbread (seaweed) does that thing that certain types of cheese do by exploding its noxious flavour in your mouth until all you can taste is that rotting-vegetable type flavour. Laverbread is disgusting, end of story.

Their final sandwich was “Laverbread Pesto with Welsh Cheddar and Tomatoes”. Great, fucking laverbread again. I took one bite and threw it at my brother, I wouldn’t disgrace this blog with a picture of it.

Café Mor’s final menu item was a pretty bog standard Seafood Chowder which didn’t particularly taste of anything, including seafood. It would be better described as “An Under-Seasoned Smashed Pea and Potato Medley served in a Polystyrene Cup”. It didn’t do anything for me or my friends and I found it strange that seafood specialists couldn’t get their soup to taste of any discernible fish. All in all a mixed report for Café Mor, some great stuff mixed with some nautical disasters.

On my journey to get the beers in (from the oh-so-hip Camden Brew Co…..dickheads) I spotted one stall which didn’t have a baying hoard outside it; The Mussel Men. These Scottish dudes specialise in Moules-Frites, mussels and chips to anyone who isn’t French. Mussels cooked in white wine and shallots with skinny fries are an all-time classic and when done right are the ultimate in comfort food. The delicious sauce combining the wine and salty liquid released from the mussels is almost the ultimate in chip-dipping.

While queuing the Mussel Men have the novel idea of getting one of their staff to challenge you to an arm-wrestle (these are Mussel Men after all) but then actually trying to engage in a “Thumb War” like the ones you used to have when you were in school. Needless to say I found this incredibly annoying and had to fight off the urge to stuff him head-first into the steaming mussel pot. Other people found it humorous but they looked like hipster aresholes so I’ll maintain my position on this.

After that saga I’m delighted to report that the moules-frites were outstanding. These were moreish moules, huge and of excellent quality (turns out that quality Scottish seafood thing isn’t just jock propaganda) and the chips were drenched in that delicious emulsified winey (nice word) sauce. I brought one box over to my four friends and the whole thing was scoffed in seconds. The only complaint I can make is that I was the only person in the queue who didn’t get any parsley garnish, I do love my garnish. Must have been my impolitesse with that thumb war twat.

The final stop on this street food adventure was a place called Green Goat. I’m not really sure what they specialise in but they certainly have aspirations of something higher than fried chicken. We queued (again) at about 5pm and they had only one menu item left. As we were ordering the guys told us they were informed that the huge volume of people was unanticipated by the organisers so the traders were completely understaffed and understocked. Some of the vans ran out at 4pm with thousands of people still lining up, causing chaos at the trucks who still had supplies. It was this reason that I missed out on trying loads of the stalls I was interested in but I can always use it as an excuse to come back to London and try them, wherever they’re based.

Back to the Green Goat and their final menu item: a “Cornish Scallop, Cream Tea Scone, Whipped Butter and Strawberry Jam”. This really was quite something and the most gastronomic thing I tasted on the day. The fresh charred scallop on the slightly sweet scone, mixed with the rich butter and sugary acidic jam melded perfectly. An outstanding flavour combination, I was initially hesitant about covering a scallop with something I’d rarely put on toast. Really delicious anyway and you could tell these guys were chefs as opposed to a couple of hippies who bought a van and may have owned livestock at one stage.

By this stage of the day there was either no more food or hour long queues for ice-cream. We decided enough was enough and went off to the boozer to get rightly pissed. The British Street Food Awards are a brilliantly conceived idea, executed (almost) perfectly and something I feel will grow far bigger by next year and beyond. I’d love to see something like this back in Ireland in even a miniature scale of what’s on offer here. It only takes a couple of traders who take what they’re doing seriously and a commitment to offer a quality product to produce a whole movement. Hopefully this is only around the corner. Now that’s something worth queuing for.

****/*****

MEAT Liquor

As this is the first post on my most probably ill-conceived blog, I thought I’d start right near the top with one of my favourites. I want to share with you a life-changing experience. Fast food El Dorado you see. If this review seems overly gushing it’s because it’s in every way deserved. Believe me when I tell you that I hate a lot of restaurants, they drive me to high-anxiety, rage, manic depression, faithlessness and ultimately, jaded acceptance of their mediocrity. But that’s for later posts. I decided I’d talk about somewhere so god damn fantastic that it demands a blog in itself.  That place friends, is MEAT Liquor.

If over the past couple of years you’ve read about street food in a paper, stood in line at a food truck or stuffed your face in some gourmet curry box, it’s because of these guys. Conceived a couple of years ago by a guy called Yianni as a burger van called Meatwagon, it quickly grew into a pub residence labelled #Meateasy. From this a fully paid up restaurant named MEAT Liquor was born. Think of it as an American diner that’s been hitting the crack pipe for four days while listening to the Velvet Underground on repeat. It’s dirty, sleazy and aggressive. It slaps you around like your uncle after one to many Martinis. The place is so cool the only way to escape it is by jumping straight through the window.

Caution: Be prepared to queue. It’s a strange development in the restaurant world these days that the reservation book has been torched, banished to hell along with the dinner jacket policy but thems the breaks I’m afraid (good news re the dinner jackets, why be made to feel like Alan Partridge). Luckily when I arrived (2pm Saturday) there was no queue at all. We waited at the bar for about 15 minutes drinking Bloody Marys out of jam jars (jam jars being the hip flask de jour – stuff like this would usually make me want to punch myself in the face but it works here). In one word: deadly. The quality vodka mixed with great tomato juice and some spikey seasoning served in an ice-cold jar which used to contain your grannys marmalade goes down an absolute storm.

The Bar & Cocktail list are provided by a secretive Bartender collective called Soulshakers. I love the idea of that, a rag-tag bunch of gunslinger barmen who obviously pissed off and underpaid under their previous employers decided to group together and combine their knowledge designing some of the best bars and cocktail lists in London. I love it, power to the workers and all that. Good cocktails too, with or without the jam jars. To give you example of a minute detail you order a drink and the fruit (lemon, lime, whatever) is totally fresh. It doesn’t sink straight to the bottom, partially dissolving while you stare at it pondering what went wrong with the world. This might sound pedantic but if a restaurant can’t get their lemon slices in order how do you expect them to grill your burger properly. They also do a drink called a Lagerita (Yes original name I know, Lager and Margarita) which is supposed to brilliant but I forgot to order one such was my raging carnal desire for grilled meat con queso.

At first glance the menu reads like many other Diners with aspirations of greatness but end up in boring culinary fare: wings, slaw, onion rings etc until you happen across something curiously original, Deep Fried Pickles. What in the name of Jesus are Deep Fried Pickles? They’re unbelievable, that’s what they are. Arriving on the signature MEAT Liquor cafeteria red tray they initially look strange, like oiled up deep fried mars bars. The initial hesitation is immediately expunged as soon as you bite into one of these bad boys. The combination of hot batter and cool salty pickle is Sonny & Cher good, a marriage made forever, well maybe Sonny and Cher didn’t last forever but you know what I mean. They come with a blue cheese dipping sauce that is so good you’d wear it as cologne. This is a winning appetiser if ever there was one. The pickles explode in your mouth unleashing all that saltiness while the hot batter adds the burn (in a good way). The blue cheese sauce cools everything down and adds a desired richness to the piquancy of those salty pickles.    

Now onto the main event of the evening as Michael Buffer would say: burgertown. Some of the menu names are familiar, Cheeseburger, Mushroom Swiss, and some are not; Double Bubble, Dead Hippy. What’s a Dead Hippy you say?  Its Yianni’s take on the famous In-N-Out Double-Double Animal Style, one of gods own creations. It’s two beef patties (served medium i.e pink) with a slice of cheese on each patty (very important, difficult to understate how essential cheese is on EACH meat patty, this is a theme I will return to over the course of this blog) pickles, lettuce and “sauce”, MEAT Liquors take on signature sauces everywhere, whether it be In-N-Out, McDonalds or the King.

Biting into this burger can only be described as a religious experience. The outside of the meat is seasoned(essential) then properly charred while the centre is pink (only achieved by getting the griddle hot enough to cook the outside without cooking the meat through, if the griddle is warm the inside will end up as cooked as the outside). It’s amazing, the combination of great meat, soft squishy bun (oh sailor!) and melting American cheese is what all burgers should aspire to. A note on the size: the Dead Hippy isn’t some gargantuan bowling ball between some unsuspecting bun that can’t contain it, like the girl at school who deliberately wore her bra that couple of sizes too small. No, it’s only slightly bigger than a Big Mac, and that’s the point. When you bite a burger you should be able to taste all of its components, it should be proportional. That’s why you put stuff on it, so you can taste it all together, duh. Simple concept I know but one that some can’t seem to grasp, not pointing any fingers at any of Dublin’s high end burger joints. The bottom line is that it tastes delicious, each ingredient like a spoke in some magical burger wheel.

All of this Dead Hippy talk has nearly made me forget the other burger masterpiece on offer: The Buffalo Chicken burger. This is a whole chicken breast, coated in some delicious batter, deep fried to perfection. That sounds good enough, especially considering that the chicken is totally moist and in no way dry probably due to the protection of the batter. But what really lifts this into the stratosphere is that it’s completely drenched in hot sauce. I’m 99% sure its Franks, good idea.  Why bother concocting your own when it’ll only be inferior to the shop bought version. Similar to when chefs make their own Ketchup and people still reach for the Heinz, its smacks of effete gastronomical snobbery. Anyway I digress, the Buffalo Chicken is simply accompanied by some unthreatening mayo, shredded iceberg and the aforementioned “essential” squishy bun. Chicken, batter & hot sauce is always a winner and when you stick it in between some buns you get a taste even the Colonel himself would be proud of.  I’ll tell you right now it’ll be the best chicken burger you’ll ever have.

The fries play an essential support role. They are there to enhance and support the burger, not steal the limelight. They’re like a solid background actor keeping the movie rolling along nicely, the Kevin Kline of the show if you will. They also arrive seasoned, which I like. Seasoning in nearly every case improves your food, without it food tastes sad, listless, depressed. The fries do exactly what you require and ask no more of you. They arrive in the right place, at the right time and beside the right burgers. An excellent coleslaw arrives also but in this company it’s merely a side-note, I almost feel sorry for it in such esteemed company.

The whole thing will set you back less than £15 for pickles, one of the burgers and fries and if that ain’t good value then I don’t know what is. People are all too happy to drop a ton on bland mediocrity so 15 quid on the best burger you’ll try this side of Southern California (any In-N-Out branch really) represents money in the bank. To quote Tom from Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels “It’s a deal, it’s a steal, it’s sale of the f*cking century!”

I’d heard so much about MEAT Liquor before finally getting to eat here. Usually this can end in disappointment but not in this burger instance. Next time you’re in London Town make sure you check it out. Actually just jump on a flight and get there as soon as you can.

*****/*****