Paolo Tullio's Review

You may have heard the phrase ‘journalistic ethics'. I've been hearing it all my life and have always had a rather fuzzy idea of what it meant. I've been on the sharp end of tabloid doorstepping and I've seen stories in print that I personally know for sure are untrue, so the exact meaning of that phrase has always eluded me. As a journalist myself I do have moments of soul-searching, which I suppose could be the fore-runner to a fit of ethical behaviour.

You see I've been struggling with a problem for the past couple of years and it's this: how do I set about reviewing a restaurant that belongs to a friend of mine? You see the problem; if I don't like it and write up that opinion, then I lose a friend and if I don't write it up all then I'm dishonest. If I like it and I say so, then I'm open to the accusation so admirably expressed by Mandy Rice-Davis, ‘well he would say that, wouldn't he?'

Well, this was the week I made a decision. After two years of will I, won't I - I did. I went to Neven McGuire's McNean's Bistro in Blacklion. There can't be many people in Ireland who don't know who Neven McGuire is, he's our own home-grown celebrity chef and he's on telly more than me. He's exactly like his telly persona: he's personable, smiling and friendly as well, I always thought, as being a good chef. Quite how good he is I only just found out.

Getting to Blacklion is a bit like getting to southern Kerry; that's to say when you think you're nearly there, you're not. You reach Cavan town easily enough, but then you discover just how big a county Cavan is on the diagonal, because Blacklion is very near Enniskillen and about half a mile from the border. But the truth is simple, a trip to McNean's Bistro is worth the trip and here's the good bit; Neven also has bedrooms, so you can eat and then slump off to bed, to rise refreshed in time for a fine breakfast.

McNean's Bistro was where Neven grew up, it's his family's business. I'd guess that that's how he manages to give such extraordinary value for money - he's not having to repay start-up costs. But more about the value later. The restaurant is part of a small hotel; when you walk in there's a dining room on each side of you, a smaller room to the right and a larger one to the left, but between the two you won't be among more than forty diners.

I'd arrived there with Marian Kenny and we got a table in the larger of the two rooms, which seats maybe twenty-five. Marian has for some time been losing interest in red meat, so she scoured the vegetarian menu, which is four courses plus coffee and is priced at €35. I chose from the dinner menu, also four courses plus coffee, and it was priced at €55. If you have a real appetite, you could always choose from the tasting menus. The vegetarian tasting menu is priced at €50 and for that you'll get eight courses and coffee. The tasting menu is priced at €70 and offers nine courses, which is surely only for only for true trenchermen.

I spent some time on the wine list, which is where Neven is now directing some of his boundless energy. It's a well put together list with about a hundred wines and it begins with six red and six white house wines which are priced at €20. The main list is well priced and includes some very good wines, the vast majority pitched between €20 and €40, which is great to see. There's a good selection of half bottles as well, a service that more restaurants should offer in these days of the breathalyser. The last part of the list is Neven's Premium Selection where the wines from €40 to €80 can be found: good Burgundies and Bordeaux, as well as super Tuscans, Rhones, Alsace and a smattering of New World greats. I chose the excellent Pouilly Fuissé Beauregard 2002 at €38.75.

Like many high-end restaurants, what's listed on the menu isn't all you get - apart from the listed courses you get amuses bouches and inter-course tit-bits, so the impression you're left with is of unending dishes arriving before you, each tastier than the last. I won't describe all the dishes that came to Marian and me because that would take up more room than I have, but some of them were too good not to describe. We both began with an inventive parsnip and honey soup, which Marian followed with a saffron risotto while I had a seafood platter. Next she had the baked goats' cheese with roast peppers and balsamic syrup, which she declared to be the best goats' cheese she'd ever tasted. Meanwhile I had a long thin platter placed before me on which I found a slice of pate de foie, a slice of delicious brioche and a perfectly seared foie gras.

It didn't stop there. An apricot sabayon came to both of us as a plate cleanser, then a raviolo of organic chicken to Marian, a saddle of rabbit stuffed with smoked bacon to me, a fillet of wild sea bass for Marian and then confit duck leg to me. When the next course came, a strawberry and orange crème brulée and we were told it was a ‘pre-dessert' we gave up. ‘Please, no more,' we begged and the meal ended there.

It's hard to praise this meal enough. The quality of what we had was on a par with the very best I've eaten in France, Spain and Italy. Careful, thoughtful, skilful, inventive and presented with élan, this was really haute cuisine at a price that anyone could afford. Remarkable.