What does a dragon eat for lunch? I'm on the prowl before heading to University College Cork (UCC) to cast a cold reptilian eye over the final-year projects of the food science and marketing graduates. I'm hoping for a taste of the future. But first up is the food of here and now in Cork's new dining district.
After a spell in the doldrums, Cork city centre is starting to feel like a place on the up again. There a lots of freshly painted cafes and restaurants, and a smell of good things cooking. If restaurants are the canary in the coalmine, then Cork's bird seems to be fluffing up its feathers and breaking into song again.
Zamora is a name that makes me think of Dean Martin's voice sliding like syrup over the lyrics of That's Amore. It's a smartly turned out restaurant on Academy Street, opposite the old Examiner offices. It's painted regulation grey outside with spanking-new wine-laden decor inside. There are corks in vases. The menu comes clipped to a wooden wine-box lid. There are wine-barrel tables in the bar area. The walls are a mushroomy cream colour. Everything in the place feels box fresh. Until it doesn't.
We get off to a good start with tap water produced without request, and excellent olives. The soup special is ordered because it’s blue potato and leek. I have to see what that blue potato soup looks like. It turns out to be the same inoffensive colour as the walls, and tastes about as exciting. There’s nothing much more vibrant happening across the table, where a sardine tin filled with potted shrimp is being sampled. It’s sold as chilli, garlic and herb butter, but the watery pink shrimps are coated in a tepid slick of beaded yellow butter with a lone fleck of chilli for flavouring and not much else. It needs a hefty dousing in lemon juice to help it along.
The next main is the best dish of the lunch, fluffy balls of goat’s cheese rolled in panko crumb and served with salad leaves, kumquat compote, toasted walnuts and pomegranate “pearls”. Who knew that an already posh ingredient needed a notch more posh?
Sadly, though, my hake is woeful. There’s nothing wrong with the portion size, made up of two hefty chunks of fish balanced on mashed potato, but one piece of fish still has its narrower tail end folded underneath, as if it was frozen this way, defrosted, and cooked without anyone noticing. It smells unappealing, and tastes worse. I manage only a few mouthfuls before putting a napkin over it like a shroud and pushing it all to one side. The almost untouched plate is cleared without question. I’d have happily eaten a half portion of better fish.
My friend’s daughter arrives and is delighted with a nice scoop of ice cream. I order a brownie that gets forgotten, so we’ll never know if it might have gone some way to redeeming the fish.
Later, at UCC, food and drink projects are a heartening end to the day. The gap between the white-coated world of food science and that of good meals has narrowed, if these projects are anything to go by. The students have used their smarts and creativity to make things you would be happy to find on a supermarket shelf. They are graduates in high demand from the food industry, so they're unlikely to set up businesses to put their products into the real world. But they have already learned a valuable lesson: great food starts with great ingredients.
Good restaurants have bad days, and maybe this was one for Zamora. Writing an appealing menu is one skill; translating it into great food every day is another can of fish. It takes a commitment to source and serve dishes of which you can be proud. During the downturn, restaurant food got better in Ireland. Diners expected more for their money, and cooks gave it to them. If the tide is rising again, it’s worth keeping this idea on board.
Lunch for two at Zamora, with sparkling water and coffees, came to €49.85.
