Greystones in the rain. Sounds like one of those 1930s or 1940s ballads. Autumn in New York, Moonlight in Vermont, that sort of thing. We found ourselves in that parish on a drab Saturday morning in January on foot of a quest for one of those arcane-but-necessary domestic tranklements that no one seems to sell any more. (Don’t get me started on the tragic demise of Churchtown Stores, the landmark hardware store beloved of so many southsiders.)
Anyhow, we got lucky and secured the desired item. Business done, a glance of the wrist told us it was lunchtime. The helpful lady in the shop told us it would be OK to leave our car where it was and proffered a couple of suggestions as to where we might dine: “There’s a nice little Italian place just down the road and, of course, there’s the Happy Pear.”
Folk who live in Greystones, I have found, tend to have something amounting to reverence for the Happy Pear, a family-owned and run plant-diet deli and cafe that, from small beginnings, has become a succès d’estime among the burgeoning vegetarian and vegan community. I have eaten there a couple of times myself and, despite my personal commitment to the world of animal husbandry, enjoyed the fare on offer. However, the popularity of the Happy Pear has come at a price, and the price is “queuing”. One glance at the massed ranks of happy herbivores told us that we would not be getting lunch for some time. So we moseyed on down the road, in weather increasingly inclement.
The Italian job did not seem to offer much beyond pizzas. I would have been happy with a curry but, alas, Chakra does not open for lunch. By now the nature of the rain had changed from stair rods to javelins. Despondent, we trudged back to the car.
I was almost through Bray, the next borough, when I remembered a place that might offer some appropriate sustenance. The gods were making life even more difficult for the traveller here, though. The deluge was still extant but in Bray it was coupled with a savage northwesterly wind that made opening the car doors a trial of strength. Exhausted and soaked to the skin, we staggered into Campo de’ Fiori where we were warmly greeted and accorded a table, exchanging our soggy outer garments for menus and a wine list.
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Chef-patron Marco Roccasalvo founded Campo de’ Fiori Bistro Market in 2004 and won early plaudits for the authenticity and excellence of his food. He and his wife Laura, who manages front of house with a light and confident hand, also established a reputation that soon spread beyond the Wicklow seaside town; indeed as far as Rome where, in 2006, the Accademia della Cucina Italiana bestowed the couple with its prestigious Silver Plate award, given for fidelity to the Italian culinary tradition.
The phrase Bistro Market was appended to the restaurant’s name to point out that Campo de’ Fiori is also a delicatessen where fine Italian products are available. The atmosphere I am happy to describe as “homely” without any negative vibes. The whole experience is as if you were dining with an Italian family which, in point of fact, you are.
A dish described on the menu as “Marco’s favourite” lured me in after but a cursory glance. A starter portion of salsiccia al pomodoro (chunks of fresh Italian sausage in a spicy tomato sauce) would, I hoped, ward off any complications emanating from the drenching I had received up the road. With excellent garlic bread to mop up the rich, vibrant sauce, Dr Roccasalvo’s “Tuscan penicillin” did the trick.
Meanwhile, herself surprised me by choosing to start with the insalata caprese as I thought that, like me, she would be straight into the thermals. This dish, properly fettled, is something I adore. It is simple enough — just mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and extra-virgin olive oil, salt and pepper. It stands or falls on the quality of the ingredients. The mozzarella was truly excellent. Imported direct, it had that indefinable delicacy that the latter-day Irish clones still cannot quite achieve (although they are getting closer every year). The basil sang, the quality of the olive oil could not be faulted. But the big letdown was the tomatoes: oh dear, tasteless as a Rubberbandits’ gag and cold as charity.
My companion’s day was redeemed, though, with the stunning melanzane alla parmigiana (aubergine and mozzarella bake), a simple traditional dish combining rampant yet harmonious flavours. It came with a crisp salad of interesting leaves. I took for my main course one of the day’s specials, a generous plateful of exquisite made-on-the premises tagliatelle adorned with a creamy and substantial sauce of gorgonzola and walnuts — comfort food indeed. We took a single glass of wine apiece from the carefully sourced list: a user-friendly nero d’avola for me and an engaging terre bianche white from Sardinia, made from the uncommon torbato grape, for her.
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Altogether simple stuff, though I know from past experience that the estimable Marco can do “flash” when flash is needed. He has a way — in fact, several — with seafood. I would particularly commend his padellata dal mare, a seafood feast for two, and his orata (sea bream) in crosta di patate (potato crust), both of which I have had previously.
We shared an in-house-made pear and Nutella flan; not a “me” thing at all but we were cozened into it by the friendly, engaging staff who joined forces to sing the dish’s praises. I had to admit it was damn good while being as far from my choice of dessert as Bray is from Bologna.
Our meal cost just short of €70, including a brace of coffees (an espresso and an americano), both pretty good and bang in the Italian idiom, completing the recuperative process. Before leaving I procured a grappa, which I downed as a shot to inure me against the dash back to the motor. After handing over the keys, of course.
@forkncork
http://www.twitter.com/forkncork CAMPO DE’ FIORI
1 ALBERT AVE, BRAY, CO WICKLOW
01 276 4257
ERNIE’S VERDICT
FOOD Four stars
WINE Three stars
SERVICE Four stars
AMBIENCE Three stars
VALUE Four stars
OVERALL Four stars