Review: Lena
When you keep your eyes open, it can feel that the world is full of coincidences.
Take a few weekends ago when I drove to a hotel in Wexford. My listening choice was an episode of the brilliant BBC You’re Dead to Me history podcast about William Morris of the Arts and Crafts movement. Lo and behold, the cushions in our hotel room featured Morris’ famous ‘Strawberry Thief’ print.
A few days later, I’m looking at a plate of sage and anchovy fritti at the spanking new, searingly-hot Lena. It’s only been a few days since I read through the Cafe Cecilia Cookbook from chef Max Rocha, the famous London home of this snack, and here they are now, right in front of me. And what a glorious little snack it is, salty and green, a perfect martini (€13) companion.
Then it’s the turn of bagna cauda with veggies for dipping. This classic anchovy sauce (seeing a trend here?) is silky smooth, served slightly warm and loose. I don’t know about you, but I’ve developed a love for bitter leaves as I’ve grown older, and the mix of fennel, raddichio, endive and potato disappears alongside our accompanying martini. This is what you’d definitely call a good start.
The team behind Lena, Simon Barrett, Liz Matthews and chef Paul McNamara, know what they are doing. Barely a day goes by in the world of Irish food without someone extolling the virtues of Etto and Uno Mas. In Lena, the choice has been to lean Italiano more than Español, but still fitting in with its older siblings. They’ve also wisely decided to leave the former Lock’s dining room largely intact, although the colour palette is a little more caramel than before. The best decision however has been to change the bar layout, creating more space for counter dining.
As a Cork person, spiced beef means something very specific to me and I will die on that hill. Big statement I know. As a result the house-spiced beef in a carpaccio with celeriac, pickled mushroom and gorgeously creamy gorgonzola (€15) wasn’t quite what I was expecting, and I found that the muted beef simply got lost amidst the other flavours.
I pass over the very tempting pici cacio e pepe (€16) in favour of the lumache with cavolo nero (€16) on the basis that (a) every other food critic is going to order it and who wants to be that basic, and (b) I want something lighter. Oh and (c), I bloody love cavolo nero.
I had expected sautéed or fried leaves in the pasta, so I was really surprised by the bright green, blanched sauce coating the curved shapes, absolutely virulent with Vitamin D, iron and intense green flavour. This is literally medicine in a bowl.
By now our martinis are long finished, and we order a 500ml carafe of wine instead of a full bottle. It’s a toss up between a Verdicchio (€42 per 500ml) and a Sicilian blend of Inzolia and Grecanico (€58 per 500ml). We are given a splash of both to help decide ad while the Sicilian is a meatier, more savoury white, I opt for the lighter, crisper Verdicchio for the remainder of our meal.
Uno Mas and Etto have a deserved reputation for steak, but having steak as 50% of the mains for a Sunday lunch is just too heavy for my tastes. Sure, I’d absolutely love a stonking, charred bistecca alla Florentina, but my doctor, my cholesterol levels and my digestive system definitely wouldn’t.
As a result, we have a choice of three mains - pork chop, cod or osso bucco. However, this turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Rich, fatty veal shin osso bucco is perfectly cut through with a zesty gremolata, and the risotto is rich with saffron (€32). A little poke into the bone cavity results in a few globs of heavenly marrow to mix through the rice.
Grilled cod is utter perfection, one of the best fish dishes that I’ve eaten in recent times (€32). Roasted and pureed artichokes represent the absolute essence of this wonderful vegetable, and the pairing with lemony leeks and creamy vermouth sauce is simply luscious.
We can’t leave without dessert and we eschew the tiramisu for the same reasons as the cacio e pepe. Instead, it’s chocolate, espresso and olive oil tart with espresso ice-cream and salt caramel sauce (€11). Ever since Tapas 24 in Barcelona nearly 15 years ago, I’ve been a fan of chocolate and olive oil. Trust me, this combination will rock your world. The tart at Lena is very good but I’d personally have liked more contrast between the chocolate and olive oil.
Locks was one of my long-time favourite dining rooms in Dublin, a space that filled with light from the canal like nowhere else. We spent many a Sunday afternoon there eating great food and getting gently sloshed in the best possible way. So naturally, I had been a little nervous that its magic would have been muted or lost in this transformation.
I shouldn’t have worried. Lena absolutely respects this venerable location, all the while giving us Dubliners the modern Italian we needed, whether we knew it or not. Lena is justifiably going to be the hottest place in town, so make a booking as soon as you can.