The Clarendon, 32, Clarendon Street, Dublin 2.
Tel 01 679 2909

The hardest thing to achieve is simplicity. Philosophers may debate this proposition as it applies to the human condition, but when it applies to cookery there's nothing to debate. It's a fact. Think of it this way: if you're only going to put a few elements, or a few flavours on a plate, then if those few things are not the best, or aren't in harmony, the dish fails. The obverse of this coin is that you can hide a mess of mediocrity in complexity, both in thinking and in the kitchen.

The fact is that it takes confidence to do things simply. Many of us are inclined to respect what appears to be complex, simply because it seems to be the product of high invention. Similarly we often underrate simplicity, because at first sight it offers itself to us almost naively, lacking sophistication and speaking quietly. And yet, when I think of the most memorable dishes that I've eaten in my life, all, without exception all, have been simple. For example, a brouillade of eggs and truffles has but two ingredients yet it can be sublime, if and only if, the eggs are fresh and free range, the truffles equally fresh and then the whole cooked to exactly the right consistency. Should any of these variables be even slightly off, then the word 'sublime' will not apply.

When you present simplicity in the form of food for public consumption, each element has to be right. Restaurants all too often shy away from simplicity because it's easy to spot any mistake. Suppose you were to find on a menu 'poached egg'. You wouldn't need to be a gourmet to know if it was undercooked or overcooked. On the other hand, if you were to find as I did last week, a 'snail and Roquefort pithivier', would you know, hand on heart, if it was a good pithivier or bad one? You'd know if you liked it or not, but honestly, how many pithiviers could you compare it to?

It may be a broad generalisation, but what makes Mediterranean food good is its simplicity. I mean food here as served in homes, not the more refined fare of restaurants. I prefer the food in households in Italy to that of their restaurants because the simplicity of home-cooked foods is based on treating the best ingredients with complete respect and performing as few chef tricks as possible on it. There is a clarity in the flavouring, which compliments the simplicity. That doesn't mean there isn't variety, there's plenty of that, as well as regionality and seasonality.

All the above generalisations apply to this week's review restaurant, The Clarendon. The food that I ate there was well-cooked, nicely presented, perfectly seasoned and flavoured, and demonstrated all the clarity of simplicity that I've just been talking about. What's surprising is that it stands out like a beacon from this point of view. It may be important to note here that The Clarendon is run by the boys from 'Bang', which is a port of call for many of Dublin's chefs on their night off, and that has to say something about the quality of the food there.

I went to meet my friend Gerard Carthy for lunch in The Clarendon and we were lucky enough to get a table. I mention this because The Clarendon gets very busy at lunchtime and there is a variety of seating choices from sofas and low tables to high tables and stools. We got a high table and stools, which is comfortable enough for eating.

The menu here is very well chosen. Simple, tasty dishes that cannot fail to please. Here's a selection: onion tart, shrimp and crab cakes, red pepper risotto, braised belly of pork, linguini with clams, bangers and mash, cod and chips and shepherd's pie. All simple classics that work only if properly done. Well, we ordered fishcakes and chilli squid to start, then cod and chips and shepherd's pie to follow.

These dishes worked and worked well. The shrimp and crab cakes, so often a mishmash of potato and general fishy bits, were superb with the taste of the shrimp and crab showing through well. My squid rings were from small, tender squid, fiddly to prepare, but far preferable to the rings cut from bigger squid. Cooked to perfection and served with a chilli dip, they were delightful.

Again, the main courses turned up trumps; the cod and chips came in a light batter that had been cooked to a golden crisp with the cod cooked just right inside. It came with good chips and a very tasty pea and mint purée. My shepherd's pie came in its own little dish topped with mash and underneath the minced lamb with pieces of carrot made a sweet and flavoursome dish.

A chocolate brownie between us finished a meal where neither of us had wine. A bottle of mineral water was charged at a very reasonable €4.20, but before we'd ordered that the three glasses of mineral water we'd started with were charged at €2.70 each. Moral, buy by the bottle.

This was one of the best lunches that I've had in a long time. I really liked the clarity of the cooking here, things tasted exactly as they should, no corners were cut, the ingredients were best quality. The Clarendon is a place I'd return to with pleasure, content in the knowledge that even foodie purists couldn't fail to be pleased by the fare. Make a note of this one. Oh yes, the bill came to €63.90.