Often times, I am queried whether I am identified when I make visits to restaurants. Questions hover around whether there is a sudden rush to seat me at the best spot with a complimentary glass of champagne, similar to how one would react when caught in a wild wave. In truth, there are some trade veterans who are familiar with all of us writers. Occasionally, there could be some adjustments made to position us at the finest table, ensuring that all is attended to meticulously from the kitchen. I recollect hearing the term “restaurant critic” being called out at a new restaurant launch this past year regarding a fellow colleague and I was there, inconspicuously under their very noses.
Truth be told, I’m an average middle-aged female who could easily be confused with many others in similar circumstances – not those who belong to the highlighting enthusiasts with their pricey modifications, but more akin to the kind Ruth Reichl would use a wig to mimic. I am seldom recognized. So, predictably, it’s business as usual, as I find myself following the stereotypical maître d’ at Peploe’s, past several vacant tables meant for a pair, to a premium spot overlooking their busy service and payment counter. Almost a deserted restaurant.
Soon after, a big corporate group joins us, ordering the easiest available options and revisiting for anything unconventional, but sadly lacking in valuable business insights or significant revelations. So, we concentrate on our obligatory reading, a typical listing of bistro regulars. Excluding the over-reference to “truffle” – often an indication for truffle oil (the synthetic flavouring derived from petroleum that Anthony Bourdain loathed, scientifically termed as 2,4-Dithiapentane) – it’s an upbeat array, featuring crab, foie gras, gambas, fried veal kidneys, fish, veal ragu, and steaks. Ample options to select from.
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Your generously portioned French onion soup (priced at €13.50) presents itself in a whimsical rush of cherished memories. A succulent surge of sweetened, caramelised onions carefully layered under an elderly Gruyère cheese covering on a piece of sourdough crouton, all valiantly trying to keep the piping hot filling from spilling out. The piping hot broth, rich in beefy flavours, provides a burning sensation to the tongue, pulling up strands of cheese and mushy onions with each delicious, heated mouthful. As anticipated, the scampi has a flaky light batter hugging a few juicy Dublin Bay prawns (€19.50) served alongside some tossed greenery.
You’ll find a small selection of wines beneath the €40 mark, however, looking at the price range realistically, you’re expected to pay more. The wine list builds up to an array of exquisite bottles from Burgundy and Bordeaux, indicative of the usual clientele. A Brouilly “L’Enfer des Belloquets” (€47), a gamay from Beaujolais, pairs nicely with our chosen meals. We request it lightly chilled, an adjustment made without any hassle. Service, it’s worth noting, is top-notch, and the room atmosphere positively hums as more diners settle in.
The veal saltimbocca alla Romana (€34) is served boldly– slender veal fillets, crispy prosciutto, and additional hints of sage, all bathed in a smooth Marsala sauce. The dish doesn’t simply “hop into your mouth”, it motivates one to lick the plate clean. The sauce is particularly palatable. The fries that accompany it in a quaint copper pot also deserve appreciation.
The halibut shows up well-cooked, golden and crispy on the outside with capers providing a burst of savoriness. Stems of baby broccoli topped with an indulgent, buttery hollandaise sauce. The dish is excellent, however, at a price tag of €42, it’s difficult not to cringe slightly. An alternative option, though, would be a farmed sea bass costing €36.50; a price that still seems rather excessive for an item that wouldn’t typically be my preferred choice.
Our evening ended on a sour note with the lemon meringue pie (£11.80), which, despite a tantalisingly gilded crust, didn’t deliver. The bready pastry, a distinctly unzesty lemon filling, and a meringue lacking in its usual airy lightness were all bitterly disappointing. Furthermore, the sugar had begun to melt.
It was disheartening that our concluding course fell short, for until then, we had been fascinated by how little has changed over the last 21 years at Peploe’s. Executive Head Chef, Graeme Dodrill, has skillfully avoided passing fashions, serving up classic French bistro food that instils confidence without being ostentatious and keeps faithful customers returning. It is reassuredly a menu that can stand on its own.
Dinner and a bottle of wine for two totalled £156.30.
Final thoughts: Traditional French cuisine in an environment with character.
Provenance of the ingredients: sourced from MK Meat, Kish Fish, Glenmar, Gerry Fisher’s crab and scallops, Artisan Foods and Caterway.
Dietary options: Mushroom tempura and aubergine Parmigiana available for vegetarians; also a chickpea croquette with red pepper hummus.
Accessibility: Fully wheelchair-friendly, complete with an accessible restroom.
Background music: Unassuming and subtle.