Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Sunday, 5 August 2012

“A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm”

A restaurant review!
Since we moved south, eight years ago, there has been a ðearth of restaurants where you can bring visitors to show off the best in food of this region. The Old Convent in Clogheen is an obvious exception but while that is truly spectacular it has it's own difficulties in terms of isolation.
Based on last night's dinner, there is a new kid on the block and The Stonehouse has set high standards for itself and hopefully this will continue. Clonmel needs a Fine Dining Restaurant. This was a great place when it was Clifford's and is a welcome return. Clonmel has more than enough Chinese restaurants who churn out almost 100 dishes on a menu. The StoneHouse is very much the opposite to this.
It has quite a limited menu. This is not a bad thing. It helps with both seasonality and te sense of walking before running in terms of getting the basics right. The food was exquisite with a high emphasis on presentation and taste. Our starters were the terrine where the duck was really allowed to come through. It was strong in flavour. The pain roti that it was served with was just a little bit too delicate for the terrine. Luckily we had been offered homemade bread on sitting and the sweet brioche worked well, by accident with the starter. My wife had the smoked salmon which looked beautiful and tasted just as good.
We both had lamb. It was lovely and pink. The parsley crust pulled every bit of the parsley flavour through. The ratatouille with feta was worthy of a course in itself. The little gnocchi were flawless
The pastry chef is certainly on their game. My wife adored the chocolate fondant. The honeycomb nougat was quite exquisite. Good coffee finished things off nicely.
Well done! We look forward to coming back.

Thursday, 10 May 2012

new blog time

You know sometimes when you think out loud?I have a problem! I do it all the time. Today in class, I started rambling as is my wont. I was congratulating one of my fine erudite young students on being accepted for his drama course. I told him that it is a rare treat to make your hobby your profession. I also confessed that if I hadn't been waylaid into the teaching profession, my dream job would have been to be a critic; a food critic, a TV or film critic, a book critic  it doesn't matter. A number of students simultaneously proffered the view; why not now? as only a seventeen or eighteen year old can. I offered the usual excuses that any forty year old balding fat man can; mortgage, kids, time. As has been proved many times over the past two years they are wiser than I. (Collectively at least). This blog is the result of that discussion.
One of the great virtues of being an English teacher is the opportunities that it gives you to see great writing being written and subsequently the urge to help somebody make that great writing even better. While we criticize as teachers, the best of us only do it to allow our students improve that which is already there.
I love Ego's speech at the end of Ratatouille:
In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.
I hope to use this blog to thrive on positive criticism. To celebrate books, food, tv, film, teaching, parenting, sport and all the rest and I hereby dedicate my ramblings to my Leaving Certificate Class of 2012.