Picture this: you’re a family-run restaurant that experiences an unexpected power-cut in the middle of a busy Sunday service just as a party of 40-plus children and their parents descend on you for a family celebration of a christening. Meanwhile, an incognito food critic is visiting to scope you out.
Sound like a kitchen nightmare? This was the daytime reality when I visited Moloughney’s of Clontarf. A half hour before we arrived and while the christening party was making their way in, the power had gone off. Manager Michelle had put in a call to their sister business, Woodstock Café in Phibsborough, to see if they could deliver 50 hot dinners stat. Thankfully, the power returned before that delivery had to be confirmed and Moloughney’s kitchen was back online.
You’re probably imagining a chaotic scene with toddlers throwing tantrums and adults throwing wobblies amidst flustered service and drama at every corner. Instead, staff at Moloughney’s coped so admirably with this whole debacle that we were entirely oblivious to it. Over desserts of a sinfully rich chocolate and salted caramel tart, poached pears and goat’s curd ice-cream and a sticky toffee pudding, we casually remarked that the place seemed very busy only to get the full story from our waitress. But let’s start at the beginning.
Moloughney’s is a five year old business run by husband and wife team Liam and Michelle Moloughney. “When they opened Moloughney’s, they wanted a place that was relaxed and casual,” Angela Ruttledge, Michelle’s sister and co-owner of aforementioned sister café Woodstock tells me. “They wanted to create a neighbourhood place you could go to without feeling guilty about the spend.”
We are there on a perfect sunny Sunday, with the sun springing out of winter along the Clontarf Promenade near Vernon Road. Moloughney’s is probably a spot that shines in the wintertime but it’s bright and airy enough to let the early summer in. We’re seated downstairs alongside the clientele who look comfortably local and all very grown-up.
It’s only when we take a trip to the bathrooms upstairs that we realise the restaurant have separated those with accompanying children and those without. It is chaotic up there but only in as much as there are three year-olds in full on I-will-use-my-food-as-paint-on-the-table mode, with the christening party in full flow. It’s like two different restaurants and, as much as I like kids, I was grateful for the segregation which I have no doubt suits the families (and the staff) too.
We settle into starters of mussels with a tasty white wine broth of the perfect consistency (creamy and complimentary as opposed to watery or cloying) while a plate of hot smoked salmon works well with its accompanying beetroot tzatziki and picked red onion. We’re all obsessed with the courgette and feta fritters which are light, crispy and salty in all the right ways. Our only let down is the chicken liver pâté which, though probably a crowd-pleaser, is on the bland side of subtle for our tastes, though the cucumber pickle it comes with keeps us interested.
Main courses of various dishes of fish are shared and enjoyed with various degrees of success. The grilled whiting is slightly over-cooked but the accompanying flavours of black olive and juicy tomato salsa go quite a way to mask it. The pan-fried cod’s crispy skin makes its more of a success than the whiting, but, while the vegetable linguine and baby potatoes are enjoyed, the chive buerre blanc could have done with a stronger personality.
We aren’t given a choice of how we want our rib of beef cooked and we’re disappointed when it arrives well done. The quality of meat is excellent which makes it even more of a shame. I order some extra gravy (it’s good) on the side to compensate and bring a bit of life back into roast spuds on the dry side, a contrast the portion of mash sitting under the roast beef that is pretty much creamy perfection.
I bring it up with Michelle when I say hello after our meal. “Today was mad. We would normally ask how people would like their beef but today the rule book went out of the window,” she explains. Angela confirms this in response to my follow up email. “Before he was a chef, Liam was an electrician. It’s usually very handy having him around when things go wrong with the electrics – but there was naught he could do about a complete power failure!”
And yet, the food and service were well above your average Sunday roast lunch. We’re soon walking out on Bull Island and it’s a glorious afternoon. Sunday lunch is €20 for two courses and €25 for three. A meal for four with two glasses of wine, coffees and water came to €121.90.
Moloughney’s
9 Vernon Avenue, Clontarf, Dublin 3
01-8330002
www.moloughneys.ie
Words: Aoife McElwain
