Dayhawks
It’s a torn newspaper cutting (The Irish Times? The Irish Independent?) that makes for fascinating reading. The article is long, but is worth taking the time to consume. “Head waiter laments the passing of the good old days of eating out” shouts the headline. “‘They have all closed – Red Bank, Dolphin and Jammet’s – restaurants that gave Dublin its Lucullan reputation up to the mid 1960s. That era has passed away. There is not the same discrimination in food,’ says Jimmy Beggan, for 40 years a water and finally head waiter in Jammet’s as he talks about the good old days to Conor O’Brien.”
Jimmy Beggan would undoubtedly be impressed by the contemporary restaurant scene in Dublin. There’s the British invasion of The Ivy and Ivy Asia (close neighbours as per this chain’s double branding location strategy) and Marco Pierre White Grill all on Trinity Street as well as Hawksmoor opening on College Green. It’s an international scene: spinach paneer in Baggot Street’s Kerala Kitchen, frequented by the urban elite on Friday evenings, is pure Patna on a plate.
At least one restaurant has made a comeback. The Unicorn, an Italian restaurant down Merrion Row was established in 1938. It was The Place to Be Seen at the turn of this century thanks to its flamboyant flame haired owners Simon and Christian Stokes, known as the Bang Brothers after their beautician mother Pia Bang. The restaurant was the victim of the Great Recession – and some extravagant spending. Chef Patron Kristian Burness has reopened The Unicorn.
In contrast to Hawksmoor’s carnivorous draw, Glas has a majority vegan minority vegetarian completely gluten free menu. This Michelin recommended restaurant is on Chatham Street under the shadow of St Stephen’s Green Centre. A three course €30 lunch (Carrot Mosaic, Hazelnut Gnocchi, Chestnut Mousse) is as joyful as the slightly nutty interior. Every colour is the new black in the maximalist decoration. Prints of Edward Hopper paintings add a sense of calm to the bathroom walls.
The article on the restaurant that had a strangely placed apostrophe continues: “Nothing, perhaps, illustrates the change in eating and drinking as Jimmy’s move from gracious living at 46 Nassau Street to the French Wine Centre in the basement of a Georgian building in Baggot Street. The basket chairs have been replaced by functional benches, the starched table linen by bare tabletops. Food takes the form of snacks but the wines, chosen by the French Ministry of Agriculture, form the main attraction. The Centre, in fact, represents France’s effort to cultivate an interest in the wines for which it is so famous. And that suits Jimmy Beggan, a member of the Guild of Sommeliers, a group dedicated to ‘the better service of wine’ as he puts it.”
“But it is in reminiscing of the old days that Jimmy’s eyes really light up. The shock of living in a Dublin devoid of its former famous restaurants has left him bemused, as if he had woken up one morning to find St Stephen’s Green replaced by a supermarket. ‘Dublin can ill afford to be without a restaurant like Jammet’s,’ is his verdict. Jimmy reflects a loyalty for the restaurant which he will never lose and which comes through in his conversation, laughing as he remembers the shouts of the French head chef and the pride with which he points out that all game served in Jammet’s was wild, unlike the great Tour d’Argent in Paris, where, he hints darkly, ‘Some of the duck is domestic.’”
“All dishes on the menu were à la carte; no question of table d’hote. And even though the list would not form a 10th of the Tour d’Argent’s, it had its speciality, Sole Jammet, steamed on the bone and serviced with a white wine and lobster sauce Americaine. Jammet’s I learnt has contributed greatly to gastronomic history, but in a rather obscure way. Lobster Burlington, lobster baked in the shell with a cheese sauce, owes its origin to the original Jammet’s known as the Burlington Restaurant and Oyster Saloons which was run by two brothers, Louis and Michel, at 26 St Andrew Street. That was before Louis moved to Nassau Street and Michel bought the Hôtel Bristol in Paris. Louis had previously been Chef to Lord Cadogan at what was then the Viceregal Lodge, now Áras an Uachtaráin.”
“In contrast with the present day, when a shop can turn into an office block overnight, the survival capacity of Jammet’s through the Great Depression and the stringencies of the Economic War are to be admired. The restaurant set its standards and kept to them. The international reputation helped so that wealthy visitors like the ‘old’ Aga Khan always dropped in. Jimmy reels off the names of the famous – Grace Moore the actress and opera singer who bought a special bottle of sherry there two days before she was killed in an air crash, Tyrone Power, Robert Donat, Burgess Meredith and of course, William Butler Yeats and his family. Yeats, his wife, daughter Anne and son Michael, were waited upon, Jimmy remembers, by Tom Kavanagh, whose claim to fame lay in his attending the Irish delegation to the Treaty signing in London in 1921 as official food taster. ‘Just to make sure they were not poisoned by the British.’”
“Jimmy Beggan first went to work in the restaurant as a commis waiter in 1928 and had progressed to head waiter by the time the place closed in 1967. He had been trained by a Swiss instructor in the first waiters’ course at the Technical School in Parnell Square. In 1932 he made an exploratory foray to Paris, but that was in the depths of the Depression so he decided to remain on in Dublin and Dublin certainty had its advantages. How did a top class restaurant obtain its supplies, the whitebait for instance, and the gulls’ eggs served as an appetiser? The whitebait came from ‘a family in Ringsend and they would be jumping out of the bucket when brought into the kitchen’. The gulls’ eggs came strangely enough from Raheenleagh in the Midlands. Lord Revelstoke sent some too from Lambay Island. But the really exotic foods like caviar and escargots were, naturally, imported.”
“The War brought changes and in fact Jimmy blames that conflagration for the change in eating habits. Gas rationing meant that the cooking had to be done at a certain time and this put an end to the long, drowsy meals which used to stretch into the afternoon. ‘People had to eat and drink by the clock,’ he says. There is art and skill in being a waiter, as Jimmy demonstrates. In the first place you had to time your dockets for the chef so that the dishes appeared in the correct order, and that was not always easy when things were busy. Then you had to know how to prepare the crêpes suzettes at the table – ‘the less butter the better and six pancakes at a time’.”
“The ingredients were exotic – kirsch, crème noyaux, brandy, Curaçao. You’d reel out satisfied after that. And then there was the caneton à la presse, duck compressed in the handpress and served in a kind of pâté with the legs, fried diable, on the plate. Recalling the routine made one’s mouth water. Jammet’s were fortunate, too, in that both Louis and Madame Yvonne, his wife, were the descendants of restaurateurs. Madame Jammet had other talents too as an artist, sculptress and woodcarver, producing the Stations of the Cross for churches in Dun Laoghaire and Limerick. She was also a dress designer and patron of the theatre.”
“Yes, undoubtedly talent of that sort and the easy sophistication of those days is sadly missing. Just think of the care which went into preparing a dish which we take for granted, the ubiquitous prawn cocktail. In Jammet’s it was Prawn Cocktail Marie Rose made with their own mayonnaise, tomato purée, white wine and a little fresh grapefruit juice. Nor did Jammet’s make any concessions to Women’s Lib. All the staff, except for the cashiers, were male. The head chef until shortly before the closure was always French. Then there were the others, the sauce, vegetable and entremets chefs, the kitchen porters, commis and full waiters, bar staff and doorman, all fitting into place, all part of a crew.”
“The minimum price of a meal at the Tour d’Argent is now something over £20 a head. To provide food and service of the quality of Jammet’s might well cost that amount in a comparable restaurant here. Slightly inhibiting, perhaps, which makes it all the more pleasant to recall the days when one could actually afford, about once a year or so, to try the rable de Lièvre sauce grand veneur after a dozen huitres Galway and followed by bombe glacée accompanied by a good burgundy. Jimmy recalls that the wine buyer was a Burgundian from Dijon, a man who had been a cooper in his youth. ‘And what could be better than that?’ he asks. What, indeed.”
Jammet’s was Ireland’s finest French restaurant from 1901 to 1967 run by two generations of Jammets: brothers Michel and François and then Michel’s son Louis supported by his wife Yvonne. A regular customer, the painter and broadcaster John Ryan, recalled “the main dining room was pure Second French Empire with a lovely faded patina to the furniture, snow white linen, well cut crystal, monogrammed porcelain, gourmet sized silver plated cutlery and gleaming decanters”. Opposite the side entrance to Trinity College, 46 Nassau Street is a central location. Lillie’s Bordello nightclub opened on the site in 1991 and for the next 28 years was The Place to Be Seen Dancing after dining in The Unicorn. Ever since, various pubs have taken over the premises.
It’s easy to become misty eyed about days of yore but the reality is that 60 plus years ago the choice of restaurant in Dublin was thin pickings and Jammet’s closing was a big loss. More poignant is the ephemeral nature of fame highlighted by this newspaper cutting. Only one of the mid 20th century celebrities is still a household name: William Butler Yeats. What about the actress and opera singer Grace Moore? Did she get to enjoy her special bottle of sherry before tragically dying? Now – in place of Red Bank and Dolphin and Jammet’s – fresh memories are being made in Kerala Kitchen and Glas and a myriad other restaurants. Some day some writer will reminisce on the Lucullan Twenties restaurant scene in Dublin below the parapets and pediments, namedropping long forgotten celebrities. Tour d’Argent is still going strong under third generation ownership.
