Restaurant review: Gold standard at Cork's Goldie

It is a wild and frightful Friday in June, squalling wind adding venom to spiteful, sheeting rain. Factor in two major concerts in town and combination of musical and meteorological circumstances means taxis are rarer than a hen’s dentist so The Gambler, who set out earlier dressed for summer, is a tad ‘moistened’ when we convene in the ever splendid Welcome Inn, 100 yards from Goldie.

Amongst its myriad charms, The Welcome Inn sports an excellent selection of more than 120 whiskeys and the notion of hot toddies in June doesn’t sound remotely outlandish on such a night. But we regain the run of ourselves, settling for a pint of plain before trooping down to what is fast becoming one of the hottest tickets in town, on foot of chef/co-proprietor Aishling Moore’s burgeoning national reputation.

We have ringside seats, at the top of the counter, peering down the length of an exceedingly narrow drinks/service station leading on into an equally compressed galley kitchen. It is the best view in the house if you’re up for following the action, play by play. The Gambler, a recovering hospitality professional and a stickler for standards, is immediately drawn to the innate fluidity of the culinary choreography: four chefs, often supplemented by two or three servers, weaving in and around each other, a ballet of practised, professional efficiency with the laser-focused Moore as principal dancer.

First, snacks: Old Bay & Langoustine Potato Crisps are absolutely on the money, sporting peppery umami and just thick enough to hold firm while shovelling up lemony sour cream; Taiwanese fish nuggets, four little fried morsels of lightly spiced (five spice) hake with a sublime taste of ‘more’ — you’d very easily sit down with a cold Jawbone ale (brewed across the road in ‘sister’ restaurant, Elbow Lane Smokehouse & Brewery) and eat far too many.

Next, small plates. We have two cured fish dishes. So finely julienned are slivers of Churchfield radish, they might be fish bones adding gentle toothsome crunch to demure cured turbot, sweet, salty, almost dreamily creamy as it melts in the mouth. Any slide into somnolence is arrested by the giddy citric exuberance of blood orange kosho. Each bite draws an unsolicited smile, the way I seem to do every time I see a Fiat Bambino — I just can’t help myself. Cured cod pastrami, on the other hand, is more ‘adult’, heft to the fish, beet kraut and pickled mustard seed fleshing out flavour spectrum with potent earthy and acidic notes.

A plate of saltwort & onion bhajis appears as a spikily exotic creation, but is a deeply satisfying and guilty comforter of elemental appeal, savoury crunch of batter yielding to carmelised sweet sugar of cooked onion. Green chilli and wild garlic puree nips around the ‘ankles’; lime pickle yoghurt is a blanket of lush, creamy acidity.

Pick of small plates is buttermilk fried ling, wonderful fish, battered in buttermilk, flour and fermented hot sauce, deep-fried, served with tangy bread and butter pickles and bright, emollient lime mayonnaise; each mouthful pops with flavour and texture in a way that has me closing my eyes and squirming with pleasure.

Little belly space remaining, we share a single main: pan roast ray, succulent meaty flesh, sliding off the ‘comb’ of bones, swimming in the glistening fats of pil-pil butter sauce, smacked with chilli, topped with swollen, blistered slices of charred Singing Frog courgette. We add superb sea salt shoestring fries, cadging equally superb gherkin ketchup for dipping.

Similarly, we opt for a single dessert, pleasing Toonsbridge ricotta cheesecake, with silken Bushby’s raspberry sorbet, the latter featuring Ireland’s finest raspberries, instantly elevating any sweet offering to an infinitely higher station.

Our Les Granges Roussillon is flush with floral notes and citric fruit, swaggering along at a bolshie 13.5%, but I’d much rather a room temperature bottle, freshly chilled to serve, rather than this poor craythur seemingly rescued after days in the fridge, near as cold and lifeless as the poor Gambler was earlier. It may be a minor point to most but such is the level of food now being served in Goldie, it merits an equally top-notch wine experience.

It is not my first time eating in Goldie, having pitched up within a few short months of its opening late in 2019. Yes, of course, any new restaurant should be capable of meeting its own standards from the off, but I’m generally inclined to leave a new establishment sufficient time for it to realise in practise what it first set out to achieve, for restaurants can take on a life of their own, evolving in ways never previously envisioned at planning stage.

However, it was hard to resist a shot at a seafood bar with a difference and though a great night of dining in a smashing new venue, I’d liken it to seeing a young, talented footballer not quite ready to graduate to the big leagues. Moore’s potential and ability were apparent but equally she was betimes tentatively stretching for a place then beyond her reach.

Watching her tonight, she ‘owns’ the place and I’m not talking about her name on any legal documents. She exudes controlled, powerful, confident energy, the other chefs orbiting her like planets around the sun and the food is often exceptional: balanced, creative compositions, sometimes even playful, yet always taking the most simple, direct route, no faffing around at the fringes.

I honestly can’t claim to have anticipated this level of evolution in such a comparatively short time, most especially with the last two years so blighted by the pandemic. I won’t make that mistake again. Moore will continue to evolve and grow as a very special chef and the only limitations she will face in the future are the extent of her own ambitions.

The Bill: €131 (including wine, cocktails, drinks, excluding tip)

The Verdict:

• Food: 9/10
• Service: 8.5/10
• Value: 9/10
• Atmosphere: 9/10