777 hits the jackpot with spec-taco-lar Mexican feast

THIS was not just a takeaway, it was an education. You see, Mexican is one world cuisine of which I’m spectacularly ignorant. Ask me about Tuscan bread, Sichuanese noodles, the origins of gyoza dumplings, even the subtler points of risotto-making, and I’m on fairly firm ground.

Of Mexican food I know, well, guacamole which I make at home quite a lot. And I’ve a vague recollection of making a ‘mole’ with dark chocolate, but that was a long time ago and there must be a good reason why I’ve not attempted it again.

I know what a taco is, more or less, and I’ve always been intrigued by the words ‘refried beans’ but that’s about it.

When I was ordering from 777, it suddenly struck me that I had never had a margarita. I’ve had a pisco sour overlooking the Pacific in Valparaiso and I’ve lowered a caipirinha in Buenos Aires; I realise it should have been São Paolo, but having the national drink of Brazil in the capital of Argentina seemed pretty exotic at the time.

Well, 777 (said as ‘triple seven’), has taught me what I was missing. First the potent margarita, a zesty combination of tequila, triple sec (think Cointreau) and lime juice that came in a five-cocktail bottle for €40. It also came with a combination of sea salt and lime zest with which to encrust the rim of your glass. We enjoyed our margaritas very cold, over ice while a whole par-cooked spatchcock chicken Al Pastor finished in the oven in its sauce.

The cocktails were enhanced with totopos which are probably best described as the ultimate tortilla chip: delicate, thin and splendidly crisp. These were dipped in all manner of sauces. There was a brilliantly green habanero one which inspired me to check how these chillis differ from the more familiar jalapeño on the official heat scale, measured in Scoville units. Jalapeños run from 1,000 to a distinctly warm 20,000. Habaneros go from a scorching 100,000 to a thermonuclear 350,000.

This sauce was searingly hot but not to the exclusion of flavour. We loved it, as we did the much gentler tomato-based salsa roja, the sour cream, black bean purée and, perhaps the most seductively interesting of them, the morita salsa, made from smoked, dried chills and roast garlic.

I think it became clear at this stage — and we had not even tucked in to the main course — that this meal is the very definition of what you would never even dream of cooking at home. It’s all the little bits that make it both so compelling and so labour-intensive.

Anyway, the chicken emerged and was duly shredded. The mushroom mole, a very intense variation on a traditional Mexican style of sauce, was heated up as were the little tacos, ready to be smeared with it before being topped with chicken.

And then, of course, there was the grilled corn slaw (featuring

also finely shredded red cabbage), guacamole (what was left after we had attacked it with the topotos), the pico de gallo, a traditional fresh red salsa with tomato, pepper, onion and, of course, chillis. Differing amounts of these were balanced on top and eaten with varying degrees of messiness. Messy food, I find, always tastes extra good.

Finally, a break from out-andout Mexican and a return to nursery food with a good, dense bread and butter pudding with a caramelish dulce de leche sauce. This is pretty multi-cultural, Spanish meets Irish/British, and as often happens when cultures come together we wonder why no one thought of it before. Sweet, but not too sweet, comforting and soothing.

The kinds of takeaway that you finish in your own kitchen can vary a great deal in terms of what needs to be done. I have to say, this one was as easy as it was tasty.

Tasty can be a lazy term but I use it advisedly here. This was a meal that was all about flavour, about zing and zest and contrasts, and, yes, a bit of chilli heat to exercise the endorphins.

And you know what? Above all, it was fun!

THE SMART MONEY

THE menu varies from week to week but three courses are €60 to €65 for two people.

AND ANOTHER THING...

COLLECTION is from 777 or from Dillinger’s in Ranelagh. Delivery is available within the M50 in South Dublin but check in advance.