Most cities do not shine on a wet day and Dublin was no exception. The Temple Bar Farmer's Market was on between 10am and 4pm, most of the stallkeepers were grumpy, sitting under their makeshift shelters as the rain fell hard. The market was small; so small the Belturbet Farmer’s Market almost put it to shame.
Home to Fitzsimonds and to get ready for dinner, we would go back to Marco Pierre White’s, Frankie’s and give it a more thorough going over. Carpaccio was brilliant and was a great showcase for Irish beef. The pork belly was forgettable, laced with sinew and dry around the edges. I sent it back. The second was so much more succulent and came minus the sinew which was nice. I was later told the chef had decided to take it off the menu, to refine it a little before it reappeared. My panna cotta dessert came topped with strawberries poached lightly in champagne. The flavours were all there but the texture nearly had me running for the ladies! It was laced with creamy lumps; I sent that back too. I was later informed that the panna cotta had been taken off the menu for the night as the entire batch was afflicted with the same unfortunate problem. Would I be responsible for closing the kitchen tonight?
We sat in the Temple Bar Pub and enjoyed a drink and some live music; it was just the place to be. It was before beer o’clock but that did not seem to matter to the drinkers of Dublin as they chugged down their dark Guinness nectar, which in this city is a major part of the staple diet. While any self respecting adult would have been proud to shelter from the rain in a fine establishment such as this, AJ was not so happy to do so, boredom had set in.
Lunch would fix that so off we headed to The Bad Ass Cafe for a hot bowl of ‘Forraged Mushroom Soup’. We wandered the streets and it was so miserable, windy and wet we decided to go to a movie. On the way in the sole fell off my hiking boots, just the thing to top off a lovely rainy day, I put it on the arm of the seat beside me for safe keeping; I would glue it later. We saw '12 Rounds'; a good dose of action was just what we needed. We were almost out on the street when I realised I was without my sole (the shoe kind ok), so I dashed back into the cinema to find the cleaners completing their finishing touches. Yes, they had found a sole, no, they did not know what stinking, putrid garbage bag it was in. I have never been afraid of getting my hands dirty but this was ridiculous. It was probably worth $200 Aussie to find it so in I dived. Sucess at last, I found it sloshing around in the soggy bottom, marinaded in Coke.
Home to Fitzsimonds and to get ready for dinner, we would go back to Marco Pierre White’s, Frankie’s and give it a more thorough going over. Carpaccio was brilliant and was a great showcase for Irish beef. The pork belly was forgettable, laced with sinew and dry around the edges. I sent it back. The second was so much more succulent and came minus the sinew which was nice. I was later told the chef had decided to take it off the menu, to refine it a little before it reappeared. My panna cotta dessert came topped with strawberries poached lightly in champagne. The flavours were all there but the texture nearly had me running for the ladies! It was laced with creamy lumps; I sent that back too. I was later informed that the panna cotta had been taken off the menu for the night as the entire batch was afflicted with the same unfortunate problem. Would I be responsible for closing the kitchen tonight?
