Review: Forêt
John and Sandy Wyer deliver yet again
Right, let’s go. Time to tackle one of the newest spots in town.
Dublin has a new French bisto-style restaurant, something that was in bizarrely thin supply in this town. It’s from John and Sandy Wyer, the owners of adjacent Forest Avenue, Una bakery in Ranelagh and Little Forest in Blackrock.
Personally, I’m still mourning the loss of their fantastic smaller Forest & Marcy, particularly the version under the leadership of chef Ciarán Sweeney, who is now doing great stuff up in Donegal at the Olde Glen. I have the memory of an elephant when it comes to greats spots that no longer exist, regarding the closures as personal affronts denying me forever more the pleasure of eating there again.
Anyway, onto Forêt. It’s upstairs over O’Briens pub, and the dining room hasn’t changed a whole lot since the previous incumbent closed earlier this year. It’s deceptively big with two dining areas separated by a thin stretch which is home to the kitchen pass and a few tables. It’s surprisingly quiet on the night we visit, but it’s also the opening night of the Autumn series. In fact I’d say there’s a strong overlap between the rugby set and potential Forêt customers.
The menu starts with ‘Les Petites Assiettes’ or small bites. We skip over Bayonne ham and saucisson sec and go straight for classic oyster mignonette (€3 each) and egg mayonnaise with celeriac rémoulade (€6). I’m told that the oyster suppliers change regularly and the oysters that night were from Connemara. Egg mayonnaise had received a bit of bling with a crunchy golden breadcrumb topping, which I actually found a bit de trop (hey, we’re French today), but loved the creamy mayo and diced celeriac.
The ‘Les Entrées’ section delivered two belters. Rillettes of gently sweet soft trout housed under a little jelly came with deliciously toasted Forest Avenue sourdough, a perfect supporting act for generous slathers of the trout and various accoutrements (€15). This on its own actually makes a decent light dish, especially if you get some extra bread for bulk.
I genuinely think this steak tartare is the best in Dublin right now (€16). It had all the right elements; crunchy cornichons, salty sharp capers, tangy mustard etc, but there was some magical slightly smoky quality that I just couldn’t quite pin down. I tried to figure it out, but after a while I just enjoyed it. Delicious.
And now to ‘Les Plats’, a slightly less successful pairing than the rillettes and the tartare.
Steak frites is undoubtedly one of the greatest French combinations. When done well, it’s truly sublime, even though it’s fundamentally a lump of beef and some spuds. At Forêt, the beef comes from Kingsbury Wagyu in Co Armagh, and it is bloody excellent (€42). It’s described as rump on the menu, but there’s none of the expected chew, and the meat simply melts in the mouth. The disappointment came in the form of the pepper sauce which was ultimately creamy rather than peppery without significant depth, and in the fries which were nothing special. I’d hoped for those paradoxically crunchy yet soft fries that the French do so well.
Across the table though, a plate of halibut grenobloise with artichoke purée was another knockout. A lovely golden sear, topped with butter, capers, parsley and lemon, this was a joy from start to finish, and decent value at €28. If you like fish, this is a must order.
We finish with a slice of croissant pudding which is cleverly made using leftover pastries from Una. A slice of the pudding is fried off with sugar, then served with Calvados caramel and custard (€8). Sweet toothed people are going to love this one.
For wine, we go for house white, a Bourgogne Blanc available also in Forest Avenue, which delivers classic Burgundy style at a decent price (€48). Dessert is accompanied by two glasses of dessert wine, a Petit Manseng from Jura (€12) and classic Sauternes (€15).
In summary, this is really rather good bistro cooking. Yes, there were a few things that I felt could have been better, but not enough to take away my enjoyment of Forêt. For the cost of a taxi trip to Leeson Street, diners are transported to the streets of Paris for a few hours, wrapped in a Gallic blanket woven from well executed, classic dishes. If you pardon my language, the French don’t f*ck around with food, and neither do the Wyers.
Mangez bien, riez souvent, aimez beaucoup.