Roly's Bistro
7 Ballsbridge Terrace
Dublin 4.
Tel. 01 668 2611

My friend runs a good restaurant. And buried inside this bald statement of fact is also a piece of history that was strangely prescient. When we were but young things with little thought of the morrow, we were friends and also budding thespians. The particular piece of theatre that I refer to now was called 'We've all made Marian' and was a panto that pre-dated 'Men in Tights' by twenty years or so. Friar Tuck earned his name in this pantomime by his penchant for frying all foods that came his way, and was played with the most improbable of rural accents by Roly Saul. Times change and food fashions do too - healthy hearts are not made by fried bread we're told - but Roly the Friar has gone on to become one of Dublin's most successful restaurateurs.

It's seven years or so since Roly left his small, but perfectly formed little restaurant in Dun Laoghaire called Trudi's, to come to his purpose-built bistro in Ballsbridge. Everyone can be wise with twenty-twenty hindsight, but his move happens to have coincided with the most spectacular boom in the restaurant business that Ireland has ever seen, and Roly's is probably one of the busiest restaurants in Dublin. So why, you may ask, has it taken me so long to get around to reviewing a successful restaurant run by a friend? The answer is fear. Fear that if I didn't like it I'd be embarrassed to say so. It took my companion for the night to persuade me - 'I love Roly's,' she said, 'I'd like to go there.' So the decision was finally made and I arranged to meet Patricia Devine there.

Patricia is one of those rare things; a multi-hyphenate. A journalist, an actress and a model. 'Jam might be an acronym' she suggested. Anyway, I got there before her as a gentleman should, and while I waited I had a chance to talk to Roly, who takes up position at a lectern just inside the door doing the greeting and table plans. Patricia had made the booking and had been told there'd only be a table if we could be gone by 9.30. Shamelessly imposing on friendship meant this didn't need to be. 'I'll make sure you don't have to move,' said Roly. I was talking to him for ten or fifteen minutes watching a seemingly endless array of people arrive at the door looking for a table. Even on a Tuesday night the restaurant was completely full and Roly must have reluctantly turned away another twenty while I was with him. Obviously he has to be doing something right.

Actually I know that's true - this isn't my first time dining in Roly's. I haven't been there much in recent years as I'm busy going to other places, but at least I knew what to expect. When Patricia arrived looking Devine in cerise we were shown to our window table upstairs. Maybe we were being spoiled a little, but we were given a big table and we had a lot of space. Looking around the room I couldn't help but notice that others had less than we did, but there's something a little ignoble in me that rather likes being given special treatment. It's a well-designed room and there's a real sense of bistro about it; noisy, bustling and full of people who are enjoying themselves and the buzz that a busy restaurant creates.

Patricia is a very occasional wine drinker so it was a tossup between a bottle or a half, but it was a brief moment. After looking down Roly's very moderately priced list and learning that Patricia liked 'velvety reds' I chose the 1996 Chateau du Paradis, a Saint Emilion Grand Cru, listed at £18.95. Patricia tasted it and thankfully it was to her liking. Roly's wine list is very moderately priced: there are ten 'house selection' wines all at £10.95, and the list itself, although shortish, is heavily weighted towards the £15-20 range - something that I like to see.

The menu too is priced at the lower end of average; starters run from £3.50 for the Clonakilty black pudding in filo pastry to £5.50 for the grilled mussels. There are standards like grilled goat's cheese and unusual dishes like a rabbit and prune terrine. Main courses start at £9.50 for a pizza and average around the £11-14 mark, but don't include vegetables which are £2.95 per person for a selection or £1.95 per individual dish. Patricia chose the black pudding to begin, which was a special, and the prawns Neuberg to follow. I picked the goat's cheese as a starter and followed with the roasted cannon of pork with cous cous and a tomato salsa.

We sat and sipped our velvety wine and were brought a selection of breads which we nibbled at while we awaited our starters. Our conversation turned to writing and acting, things that we both have in common, as opposed to modelling which we don't. I may have persuaded her that everyone has a novel inside them, and if I did, then it may well get written. This profound literary conversation came to an end with the advent of the starters. Patricia's Clonakilty black pudding was nicely presented in its pastry case and tasted very good, too. We swapped tastes and I was surprised that goat's cheese was not much to Patricia's liking, since I've always assumed it has a largely female following. Just goes to show that generalisations are generally unhelpful.

The service, despite a very full restaurant, was excellent, friendly and attentive. There's a note at the end of the menu saying that there's a ten per cent service charge 'which is distributed entirely to the staff'. There are plenty of people working in restaurants all around Dublin who might be pleased to be given the same treatment. Our main courses pleased us both and really, only to finish off the wine, we followed them with strawberries for Patricia and cheese for me. There's another nice touch in Roly's which I liked, and that's unlimited coffee once you've bought the first one. It used to be common enough in restaurants once upon a time and I always thought it made the customer feel that the restaurant wasn't penny-pinching.

Yes, my friend runs a fine bistro. Good, uncomplicated food at reasonable money in a very lively and casual room with the added bonus of decent wines at a low mark up. And thank God I can say that with my hand on my heart.

(c) Paolo Tullio, 2004