Review: Kicky's, Dublin 2
Eric Matthews is back in the kitchen
Despite being one of the oddest-named restaurants I’ve encountered, Kicky’s was very much Dublin’s most anticipated restaurant opening at the end of 2023. I’m still no clearer on why it’s called Kicky’s but a January visit after the initial Christmas rush was most certainly on the cards.
The man in the kitchen is Eric Matthews. The former head chef at Ross Lewis’s Chapter One, he comforted us during lockdowns with his cooking, and we all waited to see what he would do next. Eventually news emerged, Eric and Richie Barrett would open Kicky’s. An experienced operator and a former manager at Bang Restaurant, Richie sounded the perfect counterfoil.
The location is the former San Lorenzo’s, closed by an unfortunate fire which probably foretold the demise of the millennials’ favourite meal, brunch. The interior has been brightened up, with white paint on the red brick walls, and mixed seating replacing the banquettes. There’s even an interestingly geometrically shaped table that will baffle those people who are irresistibly drawn to solving wooden puzzles. The bar has been moved from the front door to the rear and, with its solid marble top, offers a good spot for views into the kitchen.
Before Christmas, Instagram and reviews were full of praise for the potato focaccia with carbonara butter (€6, or €5 without guanciale). It’s a truly inspired snack, and a nice nod to the dish that did much to grow Matthews’ status in the Pandemic era. While not smacking you bluntly over the head, the distinctive carbonara flavour is definitely present and the airy golden-crusted focaccia is the perfect vehicle for scooping up it up. It disappears surprisingly quickly.
A generous dollop of Dundrum Bay crab mayonnaise with January King cabbage delivers a clever contrast between sweet crab and pleasantly acrid notes of charred sourdough (just the right side of charred, not veering into the nostril-stripping territory you experience when you burn your last slice of bread). At €18 for this amount of crab, it feels like decent value, although a smidgen of salt or lemon would have been welcomed.
Radicchio, and its bitter brethren such as chicory, are most certainly having a moment. It’s popping up on cool restaurant menus across the city, here with walnuts, roasted softly crispy artichokes, artichoke puree and Young Buck cheese (€14). The very definition of seasonality, it’s absolutely belter.
Eric is famous for his love of pasta and a plate of rigatoni with delicata pumpkin, caciocavello, whey and sage is softly sweet (€16) and perfectly cooked.
Mains are a bit less successful though. Wild brill is nicely roasted on the bone with the flesh cleaving away easily. A sauce of white shellfish ragù, winter leeks and pickled red Dulse (€39) is too loose for my liking, leading to high drip potential. Across the table, the allure of a Peter Hannan sugar pit cured bacon chop (€35) is let down by the supporting act of smoked white pudding sauce, turnip and apple. They’re a bit of a flop, giving the impression of three solo singers all doing their own thing rather than combining seamlessly to support the main act.
Sides are extra, which means adding at least €6 to the price of mains. Ballymakenny roasted potatoes with confit garlic are disappointingly dull, but the simple Kicky’s salad with Mrs. H dressing is a real treat. And while the deserts from pastry chef Audrey Cahatol have been lauded citywide, we are too full on this trip.
Based on my reading of other critics, I had been apprehensive that Kicky’s would be too full blast flavour wise, but my fears are gladly disproven with our chosen dishes ranging from delicate through to punchy but balanced. Granted, we did consciously try to order from the lighter dishes as I’m frankly getting too old and cranky to be dealing with an overworked digestive system late at night. The wine menu is also a well judged affair and my off-piste choice of a full-bodied Croatian white goes particularly well with our dishes.
It’s still relatively early days for Kicky’s but the subtle seasonality of this January menu means that I already want to return in a few months when the seasons and ingredients have changed, and the excited dust clouds that signal a hot new opening have dissipated. I think there’s real potential for the establishment of a true city favourite, but with a minimum order per person of three plates (one to be a main course), it’s going to have to deliver value for money.