Traditional ideas still a hit, proving ageing can be graceful

Sometimes it’s the food that makes a meal, sometimes the company. If you’re very lucky, it’s both. So it was when I ate at Peploe’s for lunch on a Saturday afternoon with my nephew. Actually, he’s my grand-nephew and we were marking his arrival at double digits, ie his tenth birthday. He’s a keen cook and I suggested to his parents that I might give him a pasta machine to mark the occasion, but it turns out that they already have one. When I asked for a suggestion, his mum said, ‘what about an experience?’

What a good idea that proved. I took him to Dublin for the weekend and we had a ball. There was the zoo (even better than when I last went with my own children), the

Lego Store (not great), the Book of Kells exhibition and the breathtaking Long Room at TCD (brilliant), a takeaway from Bombay Pantry in Glenageary (lovely, as always), lunch at VICE (great wings and pizzas) and, finally, the wonderful jungle in the Palm House at the Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin.

Plus, lunch at Peploe’s. Not many 10-year olds get to eat in a proper restaurant, the kind of place where there are three courses and proper linen. But I reckoned he’s the kind of child who would like that kind of thing. So it proved.

The only trouble was that I had not actually intended to review Peploe’s but we had such a good time that I think it’s only right to share the experience. I like to spread good news.

I have come to the stage in life where I generally add to the average age in most gatherings but my companion certainly shifted the balance at lunchtime when it seemed that every second table was occupied by groups of people enjoying their generous noncontributory pensions.

I suppose they are of a generation that enjoys the kind of restaurant that Peploe’s is. By which I mean, it’s old-fashioned in the best sense of the word: a place where the food is certainly innovative but deliberately restrained, the service is seamless, the napery and stemware crisp and glistening, respectively.

My lunch companion – ‘I’m starving!’ - having studied the menu intently, decided against a starter and declared that he doesn’t much like prawns, a position he would revise a few minutes later.

This is because Graeme Dodrill, who heads the kitchen here and who I’ve known for a long time, sent out a little taster of a dish entitled Scampi of Dublin Bay Prawn, Mango & Chilli Relish that was, frankly, sublime. I explained to the young man – who was taken to be a young lady on several occasions, thanks to his long and luxuriant hair – that these were not just prawns but the very best prawns in the world. He nodded in agreement, his mouth being full at the time.

I had already ordered salt cod

THESE WERE NOT JUST PRAWNS BUT THE VERY BEST PRAWNS IN THE WORLD

croquettes, which were crunchy outside, moist and savoury within, so that by the time our main courses arrived to the table, I was already pretty well fed.

My young companion larruped – I think this is the correct expression – into a medium-rare rib-eye steak so enthusiastically that it never stood a chance. Nor did the skinny fries, and the odd supremely crunchy onion ring – with which I ‘helped’, quite considerably.

My own veal saltimbocca was a variation on the Italian classic of thinly sliced meat with sage leaves and a thin layer of prosciutto.

Traditionally, the buttery juices in the pan are deglazed with a dry Marsala but here they were sharpened with lemon and, you know what, I think I prefer it this way.

Roast potatoes with rosemary were used to scoop up much of it.

A touch of uncharacteristic indecisiveness afflicted us both when it came to pudding, so we ordered two with a view to swapping halfway through. Which we did.

Dark chocolate fondant with decadent caramel sauce and proper vanilla ice cream and a – now very fashionable – ‘burnt’ basque cheesecake were excellent and provided a further foundation for the afternoon before we headed round the corner to Dawson Street to catch a 46A to the Phoenix Park.

To top it all, we got a seat at the front on top!

A big thank you to Peploe’s for making a very young diner feel completely welcome and, indeed, for being exactly the kind of restaurant that I wanted on this occasion.

Dublin is the richer for having such a place, not a slave to fashion but true, at every level, to traditional values of hospitality.