Breath of fresh air from the new comer to town
You know the way everyone claims that if they had their life to live over again there isn’t a single thing they’d change? Well, I don’t buy that for a nanosecond. Given a second chance, anybody with a titter of wit would do almost everything differently. Personally speaking, I can think of two major instances when I ought to have done the exact opposite of what I ended up doing.
For starters, there’s absolutely no question that I should have accepted the lead role in Ocean’s Eleven when it was on the table. Equally, I fully accept that taking that summer job as personal shoeshine boy to Imelda Marcos probably wasn’t my cleverest move. You live and learn. Besides, given that it is easy to have 20/20 vision in hindsight, there’s not much point in losing any sleep over this kind of stuff. One thing I do genuinely regret, though, is my lifelong tendency for cutting off my nose to spite my face. Due to the potential embarrassment factor as well as the lack of available space, I don’t intend going into this particular personality defect too deeply. Suffice to say that I refused to watch the film Withnail And I for several years, solely on the basis that I didn’t especially like the bloke who’d recommended it to me. When I finally relented, it was of course immediately obvious that it’s a work of comic genius and I’ve now seen it dozens of times.
Almost from the moment the opening credits roll, it is crammed with classic one-liners and brilliantly executed set pieces. The opening scene, which is largely set in the disgusting kitchen of the main characters’ Camden Town flat, involves a memorable exchange between Richard E Grant and Paul McGann. The latter is spooning an unidentified, darkcoloured liquid into his mouth from a bowl. It turns out to be coffee and he’s using the bowl because there are no clean cups or mugs. Before this becomes clear, though, Grant’s Withnail takes great umbrage. ‘You’ve got soup’, he declares in a tone bordering on outrage. ‘Why didn’t I get any soup?’
Well, I’d have been pretty miffed if I hadn’t got the soup at Saison, as it was a thing of rare beauty. It arrived at the table as a handful of peas and bacon bits scattered into a bowl, over which the waiter then poured a rich green, slightly sweet and intensely flavoured pea broth. Not only was it absolutely delicious, it also pulled off the clever trick of being both hearty and summery. It was a very promising start, but the first impressions were already good. Though Saison has only opened in the past couple of weeks, this basement premises has a long and varied history. I remember when there was a restaurant here run by Mitchell & Son, the venerable old wine merchants that operated upstairs at street level from the late 19th century until just a few years ago. About a decade and a half back, it became Bruno’s. And then it reemerged as Town Bar & Grill.
That particular operation ran into trouble about five years ago and was taken over by controversial developer Johnny Ronan. The preposterous beardie sold it on for a song to his sister, Gillian Kelly, in 2011 and it re-emerged as Town Kildare Street. Now it has been taken over by Alison Barker, who owns the La Bodega tapas joint in Ranelagh, and reports suggest the French-influenced menu will only serve food that’s in season. Which, presumably, explains the name.
Frankly, I never understood the popularity of the various Town incarnations. There was nothing wrong with the food, but it wasn’t anything to write home about either. Nor was the atmosphere much of a selling point. Yet wouldbe showbiz types and assorted rubberneckers used to clamour for a booking, presumably in the hope of getting to touch the hem of regular patron Bono’s garment.
The long, well-spaced room has undergone a tasteful refurbishment and I particularly liked the deep turquoise shades in the décor (although I am slightly colourblind, so they could be something else entirely). Service is friendly, attentive and refreshingly low-key. And the food is very good indeed.
After the spring pea and soup to start, I had a lovely portion of juicy roast chicken from the €21, twocourse lunch menu. Both of my companion’s fish dishes – mackerel then John Dory – were also topnotch. Our desserts – champagne rhubarb for him, the ice cream selection for me – were €7 a pop, but they didn’t charge us because they have only just opened.
Even after just a few days in business, though, Saison already feels like a more impressive establishment than what’s been in the same room for the past decade or so. Let’s just hope the celebrity classes don’t colonise the place and ruin it for the rest of us. Hang on, though, who’s that lurking in the corner? Why, it’s former U2 manager Paul McGuinness lunching with his old mucker, Gate Theatre boss Michael Colgan! Spoke too soon.