My cauliflower is soft and buttery, the tips of its florets singed and blackened. It’s wearing a hat of delicately thin slices of lardo that is slowly melting into the cauliflower. Tiny crumbs of caramelized bacon and hazelnuts add a textural crunch and a devilish sweetness. Underneath the cauliflower swims a Parmesan sauce, while a chervil oil seeps across the plate. It’s cauliflower and cheese, served like I’ve always dreamt it could be. I’m downstairs in Luna, eating dinner like a boss.
Luna is in the basement of Super Miss Sue on Drury Street, and is the latest opening in John Farrell’s Dublin culinary empire, which includes 777, Dillinger’s and The Butcher Grill. ‘Luna evolved over three years but the concept really took shape over a three-day bender in Miami,’ Luna’s community manager and Farrell’s right-hand man Leo Molloy tells me, as I scribble notes verbatim. ‘I’m just kidding about that Miami bender bit.’ It would be completely on-brand and absolutely believable if it were true. Luna has brought a 1960s New York mobster restaurant to Dublin; a place where there’s a big round table in a back room of the restaurant where some serious shit is about to go down. Frank Sinatra and other naïve romantics might be dining in the main room, looking for the thrill of hanging out with mobsters. ‘We weren’t thinking Rat Pack. We were thinking Wolf Pack,’ clarifies Molloy.
Luna besides, the Miami joke rings completely true for Farrell’s wider brand and image, because there’s always been a healthy dose of danger attached to his restaurants. They’re buzzy, cocktail-fuelled, New York-inspired joints where life sometimes seems to move a bit faster than it does in the rest of Dublin.
Along the three years spent on the evolution of the creative concept behind Luna, head chef Karl Whelan joined them from Chapter One. Soon after opening night, Declan Maxwell, also previously of Chapter One, came on board as host. That two of the leading lights at Luna come from one of Dublin’s most glamorously classic restaurant fits so well. The waiters, all young men as it would have been in the ’60s, wear red jackets with black suede lapels, tailored by Louis Copeland. A more senior waiter, dressed entirely in black, even looks like a bonafide mobster, taking a break from coldly ticking off people from his hit list. I laugh out loud, with delight, when I see a dessert trolley being wheeled out from the kitchen, laden down with figs, mascarpone and candied pistachios, a chocolate ganache cake, and, of course, Tiramisu.
Head chef Whelan has been massively instrumental in the development of the Italian American menu at Luna. But we’re not talking meatballs and tomato bruschetta here. Instead, there is lardo on toast (€3.50) and homemade spaghetti sent out nearly in its birthday suit, apart from a light coating of butter and a few shavings of pungently earthy truffle. The lobsters – enormous, pink, glowing beasts – appear out of the kitchen pass garnished with ’60s-style herb bouquets.
We eat a delicate tuna crudo with balsamic strawberries (€15), and cod cooked so delicately in a buttery sauce that it’s still tantalisingly translucent (€26). There’s a pink, exquisitely cooked lamb rack (€36) that arrives with a smokey slice of aubergine, embossed with hilariously kitsch slivers of garlic and rosemary standing upright like a tidy little garden. Our wild boar ragù (€24), shared for our pasta course, is divine in its flavour and texture, of both the ragù and the elegantly rolled ravioli. But it’s a little rich for a light pasta course and might be better suited as a main course. The menu is designed to facilitate long meals, with a first course, a salad course, a middle pasta course, a meat/fish from the grill course and finally, that delightful dessert trolley. The pasta dishes are an option for main courses, too, and the heavier grill dishes can be skipped all together, depending on your appetite. That cauliflower, though (€12). Bellissima cibo.
Our bill, which includes a Campari Spritz (€8.50), a rosemary and cucumber non-alcoholic cocktail (€5.50), a glass of Fleurie (€10) to accompany the lamb and two bottles of the palate cleansing Vichy Catalan sparkling water (€4 each) comes to a total of €148.50.
Not since Forest Avenue opened its doors have I been so excited about a new restaurant. I love a bit of retro kitsch and a juicy backstory. Farrell and his team have gone to great lengths to create more than just a good, straightforward dining room. We have plenty of those in Dublin. At Luna, I’m getting so much more than a great plate of food. Molloy outlines its core principle thus: ‘It was inspired from John’s nostalgia about the restaurants he was excited to be brought to when he was a kid. He wanted to create something in Dublin that he felt excited about going to.’ I think he’s succeeded.
Luna
2-3 Drury Street, Dublin 2
t: 01-6799009
w: www.supermisssue.com
Words: Aoife McElwain
Photos: Mark Duggan
