Lemon Tree excels in homely fare that’s simply the zest

We had fun at The Lemon Tree. It was a bright, sunny day, hardly a cloud in the sky, just the time to appreciate the coastline of Co Waterford, one of Ireland’s best kept secrets. If you have never seen the Copper Coast, you don’t know what you’re missing.

Now Dunmore East, a favourite with holidaymakers, is not quite on the Copper Coast but it’s still bracingly maritime and only a short skip from the suburbs of Waterford city. The Lemon Tree comes as close as I may yet have seen to that elusive restaurant which manages to be all things to all people. And you can eat in or take away. Or partially in, as we did, in the sense that we sat at an outside table, the more to enjoy the day that was in it and the view of the sea, albeit well wrapped up against the chilly onshore breeze.

It has plenty of seafood, an equally wide range of dishes for carnivores, a plethora of serious sandwiches and a section for children that includes ‘tempura fish and chips’ no less. It’s a place where the portions are huge, by Dublin standards at any rate, everything seems to be made carefully from scratch and service is charming.

There’s a house-smoked duck breast that comes with a roast plum salad for the adventurous, slowcooked beef shin with creamy mash for those seeking comfort, sauté spinach and leeks with whipped goat’s cheese for the vegetarians. And a great deal more.

We decided to go partly pescatarian and ordered tempura prawns and crispy calamari – nothing wildly adventurous but a good test of a busy kitchen. And what prawns they proved to be! At

€11.50 as a starter (a main course is available for €21.50 and I’m kicking myself now), they were never going to be Dublin Bay prawns, not a geographical description, of course, but this variety costs pretty much the same as lobster. No, these were lovely wild Atlantic prawns, appropriate considering the view, and they were cooked to the nanosecond of perfection within their crisp but yielding batter, not too shattery and really utterly lovely.

They came with a dillisk aioli, most definitely made in-house (I mean, can you buy this stuff?) and a big dollop of mixed salad that made a further appearance with our other starter and which we felt needed a touch more oil. Pickled fennel was a thoughtful addition as was a little salad of sea vegetables which were interesting if a little too much of a chewing challenge. But not something one sees every day, so welcome.

The rings of crisp calamari (€10.50) were tender, fresh and, indeed crisp, and were mopped up with the same accompaniments plus a very pleasant sweet chilli sauce, a proper one, not the gloopy orange stuff from a bottle.

Fish of the day (€22), spanking fresh and just cooked, comprised five little fillets of the often overlooked lemon sole, served absolutely plain with just a wedge of lemon. As it should be. Mind you, the deal also included two enormous pillows of mashed potato and a selection of vegetables, admirably seasonal

EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE MADE FROM SCRATCH AND THE SERVICE IS CHARMING

and properly cooked, including creamed leeks, boiled beetroot and carrots, enough to feed several of me for days on end.

The other main course was a carb fest and certainly the kind of thing that would feed you up if you planned on walking from here to Tramore and back at speed. This was a black bean and spiced duck burrito (€16.50), the wrap packed tight with slices of duck in a black bean sauce and plenty of rice that had been similarly seasoned.

Tasty and a bit much, we felt, but we generally go very light on the carbs at home.

It came with first rate skinny chips.

Again, I suspect they were prepared in the kitchen, which is quite a rarity in Irish restaurants.

Desserts were delightfully traditional and featured – let joy be unconfined – proper, old-fashioned, unpretentious bread and butter pudding, moist and vanilla-ish within and crisply topped, studded with raisins and consumed rapidly as a shared dish with whipped cream. The taste of memories.

Unfortunately the two coffees we had ordered quite a while before failed to materialise but nor did they appear on the bill. As flies in the ointment go, it was very small.

The Lemon Tree may not be a destination restaurant – and, frankly, how many really are? – but it’s good to know it’s there, doing a good job and being all things to all people.