Moyglare Manor Hotel
Maynooth
Co. Kildare.
Tel. 01 628 6351

It's been a while since I dined in a country house - I think Mount Juliet was the last occasion. It's a breed of dining that's different qualitatively from restaurants - for a start you know pretty well what the shape of the place will be like. Georgian, Palladian and Neo-Georgian have similar proportions and similar grace. I've always liked the Grand House, big rooms with high ceilings make a man feel in proportion with the place. And Moyglare Manor is no exception to this rule: you approach it along a long, manicured drive with fine, mature beeches, which brings you to a three-storeyed house and a gravelled car park. A quick glance at the exterior before parking offered two possible entrances; a side door which looked promising, and a front door, which looked more imposing. I parked and led my wife, Susan Morley, in through the front door.

A small antechamber inside the porch led into a hallway where we stopped and looked around. Somewhere in the background there were sounds of conversation and a piano playing. We stood for a while and looked about us. An eclectic mix of Victorian and Edwardian furniture filled the hall to the brim. To the right a small sitting room, to the left a room that had a table set for two - I could smell food, I knew we must be close. There was only one other exit from the hall which led along a corridor towards the side door I'd seen earlier. Halfway along it we came to a bar inside which a man played thirties and forties classics on a grand piano. A large bar counter with a padded front filled one end of the room and tall paned windows overlooked park land where a few bullocks disported themselves. Some low tables surrounded by sofas and armchairs looked welcoming and we chose one next to a window. A fire blazed in the grate in front of us, a handsome marble fireplace surrounded it. Through a veil of potted palms and aspidistras I could see the dining room was alongside us. But what strikes you instantly is the amount of swagging festooning the windows and the bewildering variety of coverings on the sofas and chairs. Nothing minimalist in the decor here.

We were handed menus and ordered two glasses of sparkling water while we studied them. More than half of the menu is seafood, so if you hate fish the choice becomes more limited. For starters, which were priced between £5-7, there was a choice of prawns, crab claws, tartare of salmon, oysters, a tian of avocado, pate and Mediterranean salad. Two soups came next at £2.50, then the main courses which were also strong on fish. Turbot, monkfish, salmon and sole were followed by breast of chicken, duckling, pork steak and rack of lamb. Fish is at a premium here; all the fish dishes except for the salmon were over £22, which starts to be quite pricey for a single dish, especially as vegetables are extra at £3. Not dissuaded by this, Susie chose prawns to start and turbot for her main course while I picked the avocado tian and followed it with the pork.

I asked for a wine list and sat back. This is a wine list that has won prizes and deservedly so. It's heavily weighted towards fine French wines, especially Bordeaux crus classes. The first part is impressive enough, listing fine clarets back to 1970, but then come the listings for '66, '61, '55, '49, '45 and right back to '29, plus there's an entire listing for Chateau d'Yquem - including magnums - back to 1943. Okay, the prices are all in three figures, but it's astounding value for a restaurant list. Brane Cantenac 1970 is £145, Cheval Blanc 1966 is £295 and a 1949 Pontet Canet could be yours for £350, as could a 1969 d'Yquem. Unfortunately outside of these rarified delights it's not so easy to find a wine for under £20. In the end I settled on the 1995 Montagny 1er Cru from Faiveley at £22.50.

With that choice made we were shown into an annexe of the main dining room which overlooked the park land. Four or five tables were divided visually from one another by more potted palms. Big, upholstered chairs and nicely set linencovered tables were entirely in keeping with the surroundings. Our starters arrived and Susie's took us both by surprise. Her prawns were served in a bowl with a lot of sauce around them, making it look for all the world like a soup with prawns in it, but they tasted good and so did my avocado tian. All the while the service was attentive and thorough; water and wine glasses were topped up unobtrusively and often.

The Montagny turned out to be a good choice; as it opened up it disclosed itself as a full-bodied white, complex and long in finish - a real treat. And isn't it always just as you're feeling that all is right with the world that something happens to disturb that cosy feeling. My main course - large medallions of pork fillet pan-fried and served with a creamreduction sauce - although not memorable, was competent and pleasing enough. Susie's fish was so over-cooked that it had lost all its texture and become like a watery paste. It's a tragedy for that to happen to any piece of fish, but at £23.50 the tragedy somehow becomes enhanced. I had long finished my meal when the waiter came to ask us if everything was okay. When Susie told him that her fish was over-cooked he apologised and took it away.

Since she hadn't had much of a main course Susie was keen to try the desserts. I wanted cheese, but unfortunately the cheese board was off that night. Susie picked a baked Alaska, a pudding I haven't seen on a menu for years, and I chose the chocolate fondant. When it came the baked Alaska didn't look home-made; it had all the hallmarks of a bought in dessert and it wasn't very good - Susie left most of it. My chocolate fondant turned out to be no more than a small round of dry chocolate sponge with no runny chocolate sauce inside to enliven it. And why does a dining room of this calibre give you only a spoon for dessert, nursery-style?

When I asked for the bill the price of the desserts had been deducted, because, explained the waiter, it was to make up for the turbot. It was a nice gesture, but I would have been happier to see the £23.50 for the turbot deducted. The final total was £87.35 not including service.

(c) Paolo Tullio, 2004