Wild Boar Sugo With Pappardelle

As mentioned recently I got a shoulder of wild boar from the excellent John’s Meat Company in Monkstown: a large 5kg bone-in joint with the sort of marbling that unfortunately has been bred out of commercial pigs. Obviously as it was whole I had to debone the cut myself which was actually fine; I took my time and followed the contours of the muscles so I managed to keep them intact. I could have just hacked at the meat as I knew I’d just be making a few stews (in the end I fed eleven people) but having the individual muscles meant I could ensure I was cutting across the grain when dicing. I also had the bone and plenty of trimmings to make stock out of: the process is identical to one I gave for making rabbit stock in the link at the start of this post.

Boned wild boar shoulder, skin side up

Boned wild boar shoulder before I separated the muscles

I originally bought the shoulder mainly to make a Rick Stein recipe but unfortunately it didn’t turn out as well as I hoped. This was mainly because the figetellu sausage I used had been sitting the fridge for around a year and had developed some off flavours and also because I roasted the chestnuts for too long and had to throw them all out (not my finest moment in the kitchen!). In the end it was still nice but the version I’d made before with chorizo was better and I’d rather be completely satisfied with a dish before doing a full post about it.

A few nights before though I’d made a lovely slow cooked pasta sauce I was really happy with. My nonna used to say the best meat to make a sugo (it’s just Italian for sauce but we used the word to refer to one specifically for pasta) from was pork and given boar is just a more flavourful version I knew it would work really well. In Italy what generally happens is that the meat is removed from the pot before the pasta goes in and is eaten as a separate course with some sautéed greens or other vegetables; I normally just mix everything through and serve in one go though. This recipe will work for any type of meat although obviously you ought to change the type of stock and wine to match.

Wild Boar Sugo With Pappardelle

Serves: 4

Ingredients:

25g lard
750g wild boar shoulder, cubed
100g celery, finely chopped
100g carrots, finely chopped
100g onion, finely chopped
4 anchovies
2 large cloves garlic, minced
150ml white wine
700ml passata
300ml wild boar stock
Salt
Pepper
500g pappardelle
25g Parmigiano-Reggiano

Method:

  1. Heat a pan over a high heat and melt the lard.
  2. Brown the meat, in batches if necessary, and transfer to a stew pot.
  3. Add the celery, carrots and onion to the pan and fry for around 15 minutes being careful not to brown the onion.
  4. Add the anchovies and garlic and cook until the anchovies have dissolved.
  5. Pour in the white wine and boil off most of the alcohol and transfer the contents of the pan to the stew pot.
  6. Add the passata and the stock to the stew pot and simmer for around two hours or until the meat is very tender.
  7. In a pot of heavily salted, boiling water cook the pasta until it is al dente.
  8. Remove the meat from the stew pan and mix in the pasta until evenly coated.
  9. Divide the pasta between four plates and top with the meat and Parmigiano-Reggiano or eat the meat separately with some sautéed greens as a second course.

 

Wild Mushroom And Truffle Tagliatelle

When I was in Verona awhile back I visited a fantastic shop selling all sorts of salume and cheeses; I found a beautiful cotechino which we had for New Year’s as is the tradition (with Castelluccio lentils I brought back as well) but something else we bought were white and black truffle slices in oil. And you don’t have to go Italy to locate them either,  my dad got me some whole preserved ones in Sainsbury’s up North last week.

Preserved Truffles

Whole Truffles From Sainsbury's

Now, Antonio Carluccio says not to bother with these, something only a person who is rich enough to afford the fresh versions would say. Unlike him, I can’t justify such an extravagance and even if I could I doubt I’d have access to all the amazing produce his contacts give him so unfortunately this will have to do.  Another option is to use truffle oil instead but for me it’s a complete rip off: I don’t understand how it can be that expensive to infuse something with a one dimensional chemical recreation of the aroma.

Given the paucity of truffles in the recipe, I’ve added some wild mushrooms to help bulk out the sauce and I’ve also cooked them in an unusual way. Conventional advice is to never crowd the pan because you’ll end up stewing the mushrooms rather than sautéing them but the guys at Cooking Issues discovered doing it the ‘wrong’ way actually gives a better result: the non-crowded batch ended up absorbing far more oil and had a worse appearance. I now add a little bit of water to the pan just to stop anything catching and liberally sprinkle with salt to help draw the moisture out; only when the released water has nearly evaporated do I add any fat to start browning. Occasionally, I add too much liquid at the start but I just strain it off using a sieve (if you’re making, say, a soup or a stew you can put it back at a later stage).

For the pasta, I would normally make this myself with a large amount of eggs given truffle’s affinity for them; there are lots of recipes online but the one I use is from Jamie’s Italy and the great thing about tagliatelle is that you can use a rolling pin rather than a machine. Just get the dough reasonably thin and into a few long pieces, roll them up like a scroll and the cut into 1-2cm wide strips. Another option is to buy the Italian fresh pasta from Marks & Spencer which is the best one I’ve found in the supermarkets although there’s some great dried stuff from De Cecco too.

Wild Mushroom & Truffle Tagliatelle

Serves: 2

Ingredients:

200g wild mushrooms
Salt
Grapeseed oil
25g butter
1 large garlic clove, minced
100ml white wine
200ml double cream
Nutmeg, pinch of
Fish sauce, splash of
2.5g pepper
10g preserved black truffles
250g fresh egg tagliatelle
Lemon half, juice of
25g Parmigiano-Reggiano

Method:

  1. Heat a pan over a high heat and then add the mushrooms and 2.5g of salt. (Add a splash of water to stop any from sticking to the pan)
  2. Let the mushrooms release their water and allow it to boil off. If there’s a large amount of liquid released that’s difficult to evaporate, strain the contents of the pan through a sieve and reserve it.
  3. When the pan is nearly dry, add the grapeseed oil and fry the mushrooms until golden brown.
  4. Move the pan to a low heat and add the butter.
  5. When it has melted add the garlic and cook for 1-2 minutes being careful not to colour it.
  6. Deglaze the pan with the white wine until nearly all boiled off.
  7. Add the double cream, nutmeg, pepper, fish sauce and if any, the reserved water.
  8. Simmer the sauce for around five minutes until slightly reduced.
  9. When reduced, add the lemon juice and check the seasoning to see if it needs adjusting.
  10. Stir in the preserved in truffles.
  11. While the sauce is reducing, boil a large pot of heavily salted water and cook the tagliatelle. (It should only take 3-4 minutes but won’t be as al dente as dried pasta.)
  12. Strain the pasta and combine with the sauce, mixing thoroughly.
  13. Divide between two plates and top with the Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Lamb Meatballs With Spaghetti

This recipe was inspired by a really good main course we had in Coppinger Row at the start of the summer, a normal meatball and linguine dish was given a great twist by using mint instead of the usual basil in the tomato sauce. I’ve swapped the beef with lamb given its affinity for mint and added some fish sauce to the mince because anchovies are another great companion to lamb but you could use finely chopped whole fillets if you wanted to instead. A good trick when making making meatballs is to add parmesan to the meat which adds umami but also acts as the seasoning so you shouldn’t need any salt (if unsure, fry off a small chunk of the mixture to check); I’ve used pecorino here instead though because it’s a sheep’s cheese and feels like a better fit.

Lamb Meatballs & Spaghetti

Serves: 4

Ingredients:
For the meatballs:
25ml olive oil
500g lamb mince
1 small clove garlic, grated
10ml fish sauce
25g pecorino
5g dried rosemary
2g ground pepper

For the sauce:
25ml olive oil
4 anchovies
75g celery, finely chopped
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
100ml white wine
2 tins of San Marzano tomatoes
3 sprigs mint
15g chopped mint leaves
5g sugar
5ml red wine vinegar
Salt
Pepper

Method:

  1. For the meatballs, combine all the ingredients bar the olive oil in a bowl and mix thoroughly.
  2. Take a chunk of the mince and shape into a ball around the size of a golf ball. Repeat until all the meat is used up, you should be left with around 8 meatballs.
  3. Leave to rest and firm up in the fridge for half an hour.
  4. Heat a pan over a medium heat and add the olive oil.
  5. Fry the meatballs until browned all over. Remove and set to one side.
  6. For the sauce, using the same pan, place over a low heat and add the olive oil.
  7. Add the celery, garlic and anchovies and sauté for 4-5 minutes.
  8. Turn the heat up to high and deglaze the pan with the wine.
  9. When that has mostly evaporated, add the tomatoes and break them up with your spoon (alternatively whizz them to a liquid in your blender before cooking).
  10. Add the sugar and sprigs of mint and simmer for 2-3 minutes before putting the meatballs back in.
  11. Cook the meatballs for 25-30 minutes, turning occasionally to ensure they are evenly done.
  12. In a pot of boiling, heavily salted water cook the pasta until al dente.
  13. When the meatballs are done, remove from the sauce and keep warm.
  14. Stir in the chopped mint and the red wine vinegar and adjust the seasoning if required. Cook for another 1-2 minutes.
  15. When ready drain the pasta and combine with  the sauce, ensuring the pasta is coated evenly.
  16. Divide the pasta amongst the plates and serve the meatballs on top with a large helping of grated pecorino.

Orecchiette With Beetroot Leaves

This recipe is based on is the classic Pulgian dish Orecchiette alle Cime di Rapa which involves turnip tops and pasta being coated in an sauce made with absurd amounts of garlic, anchovies and olive oil; the reason I like it so much is because it’s such a great example of Southern Italian cucina povera, cheap preserved ingredients combine to form something that works as a whole far better than you would ever expect from looking at the components individually.

Unfortunately, I’ve never seen turnip tops for sale in Ireland meaning I had to improvise; the standard substitution is broccoli (purple sprouting in particular) but I had loads of leaves left over from my bargain beetroot purchase (which ended up featuring it four meals over the week, not bad for €2!) on Moore Street so I decided to use them. Moreover, given the roots of the original I like the thriftiness of using a part of the vegetable that would often be thrown away by many people. Another great thing about this is you can easily follow the seasons and have it all year round: chard in autumn, kale or cavolo nero in winter and spinach or, as mentioned, broccoli in spring.

Beetroot Leaves

Something to be careful of is the amount of salt when boiling the pasta, not only because of the capers and anchovies in the sauce but also the pecorino (the traditional grating cheese in the south of Italy) as it’s much saltier than Parmesan. The lemon juice acts as a counterpoint to this so don’t leave it out. Finally, I’ve found orecchiette quite easy to overcook: monitor them closely for the last few minutes and take them out while they’re still a slight bit chewy.

Orecchiette With Beetroot Leaves

Serves: 4

Ingredients:
80ml olive oil
3 cloves garlic, finely crushed
5 anchovies
5g capers, finely chopped
2.5g dried chilli flakes
200g beetroot leaves, roughly chopped
500g orecchiette
5ml lemon juice
Pecorino cheese

Method:

  1. Put a large pan over a low heat and add half the oil.
  2. Add the garlic, anchovies, capers and chilli and fry on the lowest possible heat for 5-7 minutes. Mash the anchovies as much as possible so that they completely dissolve.
  3. In a pot of boiling salted water, cook the pasta according to the packet instructions (12-15 minutes, usually).
  4. 2-3 minutes before the orecchiette is finished add the beetroot leaves.
  5. Drain the pasta and combine with the anchovy sauce.
  6. Add the rest of the olive oil and the lemon juice and stir thoroughly.
  7. Divide amongst the plates and top with a generous grating of pecorino.

 

Nettle Gnocchi With Cream And Pancetta Sauce

Another trip to the Phoenix Park to get more wild garlic also yielded a great haul of nettles, far more than I got last time so I had to figure a way of using them up; I was reminded of a lovely meal I had in Croatia a few years back that featured nettle gnocchi so I figured I’d have a go trying to recreate it.

Now, gnocchi have a reputation for being quite stodgy and it’s not entirely undeserved but this is generally because either the dough has been overworked or too much flour has been used. The trick I find is to add the flour in increments and stop as soon as you have a workable dough even if it’s still sticking to your hands slightly.

It’s also vital to boil the potatoes in their skins so they don’t take on too much water which would necessitate using more flour to counteract the excess moisture; in fact, I’ve seen several recipes that call for baking rather than boiling which, of course, eliminates the risk of waterlogging altogether so you could give that a try instead.

It’s especially important here because no matter how hard you squeeze the nettles after cooking them they’re still going to be pretty wet. Also, be careful when seasoning the cream sauce as the pancetta is already quite salty, I misjudged this myself but it’s easily rectified by cutting back on the amount of salt I put in when cooking the gnocchi.

Serves: 2

Ingredients

For the gnocchi:
4 medium potatoes
150g nettles
25g parmigiano-reggiano
1 egg, lightly beaten
70g flour
Salt
Pepper

For the sauce:
Small knob of butter
50g diced pancetta
50ml white wine
100ml creme fraiche
100ml veal stock
2 sprigs thyme
Grating of nutmeg

  1. For the gnocchi, place the potatoes in a pan of cold, salted water and bring to the boil; lower heat to a simmer and cook until easily pierced through by the point of a knife.
  2. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and blanch the nettles for one minute.
  3. Remove from the pan and squeeze out as much of the water in the leaves as possible.
  4. Finely chop the nettles and leave to one side.
  5. When the potatoes are cooked remove from the water and peel off the skins.
  6. Mash the potatoes using a ricer or food mill and put into a bowl.
  7. Add the nettles, parmigiano-reggiano, egg, flour and pepper to the bowl.
  8. Flour your hands and mix all the ingredients together into a soft and slightly sticky dough, taking care not to overwork it.
  9. Lightly flour your work surface and take a small ball of dough from the bowl and roll into a cylinder around about 1cm in diameter.
  10. Using a sharp knife, cut the cylinder into 2cm pieces. Repeat these two steps until all the dough is used up.
  11. Place the gnocchi on a lightly buttered plate and put in the fridge to firm up.
  12. For the sauce, melt the butter over a low to medium heat and then add the pancetta: fry until it is golden and the fat has rendered.
  13. Add the white wine and boil until most of it has evaporated.
  14. Add the stock, creme fraiche, thyme and nutmeg and leave to simmer until the sauce has reduced by around half.
  15. Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and then add the gnocchi. They will only take 2-3 minutes to cook and are generally done when they start floating to the top of the water.
  16. Drain the gnocchi (or remove using a slotted spoon) and with with the cream sauce.
  17. Divide between two bowls and top with more parmeggiano-reggiano.

Nettle And Wild Garlic Risotto With Horseradish

After such a long and harsh winter it’s nice to see that spring is finally here, the days have got longer and the bitter cold of the past few months finally seems to have passed; the hungry gap of March is over and there’s lots of great vegetables starting to come into season. Something I’ve been meaning to try for a long time are nettles which need to be eaten around this time of year when they first start sprouting because the older they get the more tough and bitter they become. I was planning to make nettle soup with them until reading a post over on the L Mulligans blog – about some wild garlic they’d found in the Phoenix Park – gave me the idea for this risotto instead. I think there’s a nice contrast between these two humble, foraged ingredients and the richness of the butter and the cheese.

As you can probably guess from the very existence of this post, I wasn’t disappointed: there was a glut of the stuff growing around the entrance to the American ambassador’s residence and I could have picked a black sack full if I wanted too. As a bonus there were lots of nettles in amongst the garlic leaves too so I could just pick both at the same time. One mistake I made though was bringing thick gardening gloves to pick the nettles which made it very awkward to pluck the small, young leaves from their stems; next time I’d just bring marigolds or even thin latex gloves.

The thing I think puts a lot of people off risotto is the constant stirring of the rice but I’ve found you really don’t need to be obsessive with this, there’s not going to be a huge difference if you leave it alone to simmer for a minute or two while you prepare something else. I’ve also noticed the age of your rice can determine how long it will take for it get to the al dente stage so any timings here are at best rough guides.

Blanching the nettles and putting them in cold water is necessary to preserve their bright green colour, the longer they stay on the heat the duller it will become. Something to note as well is that the creme fraiche is not there for the texture of the finished risotto as it should be creamy to begin with, it’s just nice to have a bit of acidity and it carries the horseradish very well. Finally, instead of using shallots here, you could use the last of the season’s leeks to add an even bigger springtime flavour to the dish.

Serves: 2

Ingredients:
50g butter
100g finely chopped shallots
50g finely chopped celery
200g carnaroli rice
100ml white wine
600ml veal stock
25g nettles
25g roughly chopped wild garlic leaves
25g parmigiano reggiano
Salt
Pepper
50ml creme fraiche
15g freshly grated horseradish

Method:

  1. Blanch the nettles in boiling hot water for 1-2 minutes and when cooked, strain (reserving some of the cooking water) and plunge into cold water to stop them cooking any further. Strain the nettles again and put to one side.
  2. Melt enough butter to coat the bottom of your pan, add the shallots and celery and sweat over a low heat for around ten minutes being careful not to colour the onions.
  3. Turn up the heat and add the rice. Stir to coat the grains in the melted butter and cook for 2-3 minutes.
  4. Add the white wine and keep stirring till it has nearly all evaporated.
  5. Lower the heat and add a ladle of the veal stock and again keep stirring until it has been absorbed by the rice. When that happens add another ladle of stock and repeat the same process.
  6. Keep repeating the addition and absorption until there is no stock left. This should take around 20 minutes.
  7. Three quarters of the way though add the the wild garlic leaves.
  8. Meanwhile put the nettles in a blender with the reserved cooking water and process to a puree.
  9. If after twenty minutes the rice is not cooked (it should be tender but still have a small bit of bite but be in no way chalky) just keep adding water until the it’s done. Likewise, if the rice is cooked and you still have stock left don’t add any more as it will overcook.
  10. Take the risotto off the heat and stir the nettle puree in.
  11. Add the rest of the butter and parmigiano reggiano and stir it through.
  12. Adjust the seasoning if necessary, cover the pan and leave to rest for 3-4 minutes.
  13. Add the horseradish to the creme fraiche and mix thoroughly. Season to taste.
  14. When the risotto has rested, divide between two plates and top with a dollop of the horseradish cream.

Lamb And Fennel With Garganelli

We had some fennel leftover from a risotto I made this week and I figured since the spring lamb season is upon us again I’d combine the two. I generally much prefer lamb from the end of summer or coming into autumn that’s had a chance to graze on pasture because it has a more pronounced flavour but I know a lot of people can be put off by its strong taste so younger lamb can be a good option here.

If you get a chance this fennel risotto is really worth making; ricotta salata can be bought in Little Italy in Smithfield

I found this recipe online years ago but I’ve made a few alterations to it, mainly dropping the saffron which never really added anything for me and upping the amount of fennel because it’s one of my favourite ingredients. You can get garganelli pasta in Little Italy in Smithfield but otherwise just use penne (although try to get the type without ridges). If using dry Marsala you can probably increase the amount here; I could only find the sweet variety and you have to be really careful as the sweetness can overwhelm the dish. To counter that I sometimes add lemon juice or more sherry vinegar. Should either type of the wine be unavailable, I’d say a good substitute would be madeira.

Barilla garganelli from Little Italy in Smithfield

Lamb & Fennel With Garganelli

Serves: 2

Ingredients:

15ml olive oil
250g lamb mince
200g fennel (thinly sliced)
2 cloves garlic
2 anchovies
30ml marsala
250ml veal/lamb stock
5g fresh rosemary (finely chopped)
5g ground fennel seeds
5ml sherry vinegar
30g butter
250g garganelli
Salt
Pepper

Method:

  1. Heat a pan on a high heat and then add the olive oil, when just smoking add the mince and fry until golden brown.
  2. Meanwhile melt half the butter in another pan on a medium heat and throw in the fennel. Sauté for a few minutes and then lower the heat and cover. Cook until the fennel has browned, stirring occasionally to stop it burning.
  3. In the pan with the lamb, lower the heat and add the garlic and the anchovies and fry until the anchovies have dissolved.
  4. Turn up the heat and pour in the marsala.
  5. When the marsala has almost completely evaporated add the stock, rosemary and fennel seeds.
  6. Drop the heat and leave to simmer until the liquid has reduced by two-thirds.
  7. Bring a pot of heavily salted water to the boil and add the pasta.
  8. When the fennel is nicely brown, turn up the heat and add the sherry vinegar and let it boil off.
  9. Scrape the fennel into the pan with the lamb, stir in the last of the butter and season to taste.
  10. When the pasta is al dente drain and then add to the lamb.
  11. Mix them thoroughly and divide into plates and top with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Chicken, Walnut and Tarragon Pasta

I’ve had a few people say to me before that chicken and pasta are never paired in dishes in Italy and if we’re talking about topping with a full chicken breast  for no reason other than to add some protein to the meal then they’re right. But I definitely remember eating the combination in my Nonna’s when we went to visit her: there was no room for squeamishness because she’d generally kill a chicken from the coop outside especially for the dinner.

When the bird had been plucked, gutted and jointed it would be boiled in water (with some onions and celery) and the pasta cooked in the resulting stock as a kind of soup; it was only after this soup that we’d eat the meat. It appears I’ve begun to digress somewhat because I now find myself justifying the breaking of an absurd rule I’m not even sure exists! So enough of that.

This recipe has gone through quite a few iterations, originally I used to make it with strips of chicken breast and spaghetti but of course chicken breasts are tasteless and spaghetti is no good for holding onto pieces of walnut, or meat for that matter, so I changed things a bit. I started to use thighs instead because their fuller flavour worked with the tarragon a lot better but also because they could withstand cooking for longer even when minced (I have a mincer but the pulse function on a food processor should work as well, although make sure you don’t end up with a paste).

Penne is a great choice for something like this because the pieces of walnut and chicken stick not just to the outside of the the tubes but inside them too. Any type of long pasta ribbon like the one in the picture here is another good option. I also used to put lemon peel in and finish with parmesan but I don’t think either are necessary, the cheese especially makes it overly heavy given the butter content; one of the reasons for the lemon juice at the end is to cut through the richness of dish, feel free to add more if you think it’s needed.

One final thing is that I hate the imperial measurement system which is why everything here is in grams and millilitres. Unfortunately, this makes the ingredient list look ridiculously precise even though it’s not intended like that: as with any recipe it’s more of a guide so trust your instincts and just use common sense.

Chicken, Walnut & Tarragon Pasta

Ingredients:

45g butter
50g chopped walnuts
250g minced chicken legs
1 large clove garlic (finely chopped)
100ml white wine
250ml chicken stock
15g tarragon
Salt
Pepper
5ml lemon juice
250g penne rigate

Method:

  1. Melt 15g of butter over a medium heat and fry the walnuts until golden. Remove walnuts and set aside.
  2. Wipe the pan clean and over a medium-high heat add another 15g of butter. When it begins to foam add the chicken and allow to brown slightly. Be careful not to let the butter burn.
  3. Add the garlic and fry for around 2 minutes.
  4. Deglaze the pan with the white wine.
  5. When the wine has nearly evaporated add the chicken stock and half the tarragon and lower to simmer. You want the liquid to reduce by around two thirds so that should take roughly twenty minutes.
  6. Meanwhile cook the pasta in boiling, heavily salted water until al dente.
  7. Five minutes before the the chicken is ready add the walnuts.
  8. When finally reduced, adjust the seasoning and take off the heat.
  9. Stir in the tarragon, the last of the butter and lemon juice.
  10. Mix the pasta and chicken together and serve.

Serves: 2

Osteria Il Baccaro

Osteria Il Baccaro is a restaurant in Meetinghouse Square in Temple Bar I often pass but very rarely eat in. In fact, the only meal I’ve ever had there was over five years ago; take that as more of a reflection on the location rather than the quality of the cooking because it is hidden off the square meaning it often slips my mind when deciding on somewhere to eat.

The food for the most part avoids the sort of clichéd dishes many Italian restaurants in Dublin serve, there’s no Bolognese, pizza or lasagne, for instance, which makes a nice change given how poorly executed and inauthentic these often are. There seems to be more of a central and southern regional slant to the menu, with little use of butter or cream.

This isn’t to say they don’t serve any common Italian fare – the starter I chose was a minestrone – but that there is a welcome amount of variety on offer. Sadly, the soup itself wasn’t very good: most of the vegetables were bland and out of season and the stock, really the most important component of a simple soup like minestrone, just wasn’t flavoursome enough; the pieces of pasta were also quite undercooked, a good 2-3 minutes shy of al dente, I’d guess.

Thankfully, my main course was a lot better. I ordered porchetta, a Roman street food (though it is served all over Italy now) which normally involves a whole pig being stuffed with garlic, fennel and other herbs and then roasted until the flesh is fork tender. Obviously it wouldn’t be practical for Il Baccaro to replicate this method so instead they slice pork shoulder braised with fennel and lightly fry each side before topping with a rich mushroom sauce. A nice byproduct of frying the pork was that some of the fennel seeds adhering to the side of the cut became toasted and imparted another layer of depth to the dish; the meat offered only the barest resistance to the knife and had a very good flavour with the sauce complementing rather than overpowering it. The only disappointing part was the very unimaginative, and again unseasonal, salad of butterhead lettuce and tomatoes tacked on the plate as an afterthought. Maybe a more appropriate accompaniment would have been some dressed winter leaves like radicchio, chicory or even spinach. Moreover, if you weren’t having a starter you might want to order a side of potatoes to bulk up the meal as there’s nothing starchy included with the secondi.

I also ordered a glass of Chianti to accompany my pork from a wine list featuring glasses starting as low as €4.00 which is definitely the lowest price I have seen in a Temple Bar restaurant for a long time. My red (€5.50) wasn’t the best but was still quite drinkable though given this it may be the cheap wine is cheap for a reason.

Unfortunately because I was in a rush I wouldn’t have had time to order dessert but even then there was nothing that really grabbed my attention on the menu so I probably would have skipped it anyway. Service was pleasant, unintrusive and efficient and the whole meal came to just under €30 including tip.

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