Seafood Feast in Octopussy's

I have this theory that, every single time I spend the day in lovely Howth, my gluttony takes over and possesses my appetite. I always end up wolfing out in some crabshack or street food market.

Octopussy's Seafood Tapas Restaurant is often packed for a reason and I knew I HAD to get in there and try all the food my (dilated, ahem!) stomach could handle. I mean, what else is one supposed to do on a gloomy Sunday? A dreary miserable afternoon spent in one of the most satisfying eateries in County Dublin is the perfect excuse to indulge.

After some seal spotting and pub snug pints, this was the place to be. Cosy, warm, good music (The Specials, Bessie Smith and some more formidable tunes) and a tempting wine selection including my all time favourite Alvarinho from Portugal. The portions are, as you can expect, tapas-like in quantity but the quality is fucking extraordinary. High-grade. It took us a while to decide what to go for, since there was a little bit of everything: mussels, calamari, prawns, octopus... you name it. It was like an entire ocean in menu pages. The good thing about the small sized dishes is that they leave room for more and more, allowing us to try many different things in one go.

We started with Carlingford oysters - fresh, yummy and rich in aftertaste. Then, crab mousse with herbs served in brown bread landed in our table and I shit you not, that's the texture and flavour dreams are made of. Describing it as heavenly would be an understatement. Scallops in lemon and garlic butter ensued and there are no words to define such scrumptious taste. The chilli and chorizo squids didn't disappoint either - the spicy factor and garlicky sauce was a real treat. And have I mentioned the char grilled lobster yet? The crustacean was an absolute winner, nothing beats that sweet flesh covered in garlic butter and a home made marie rose sauce to die for. I even dipped the brown bread in it (and in every other sauce, for the record). Given the money and time, we would've certainly go through the whole menu, this I know. The feast eventually met an end but only after we ordered dessert. Crème brûlée, the perfect classic, and oh so delicious. I think of that custard and I drool.

With a casual yet effortlessly romantic (as in candles, sheltered shack-like ambience) atmosphere, Octopussy's offers the best seafood for a reasonable price, meaning it's an affordable option either you're by yourself or with a bunch of friends - just make sure you book it in advance (I didn't but I guess it was my lucky day). I'm glad it wasn't a fancy spot so I didn't have to worry about my manners... This is definitely a "to be continued" kind of place for sure, and fair play to the staff - our waitress was lovely and extremely efficient. I'll be back on a sunny day to try the swordfish teriyaki.

Hometown Holidays: The Food

Portuguese people live for food. I mean it. It's not a hyperbole. There are no rules when it comes to stuff our stomach. We simply love to pig out, even if that involves regurgitating at some point or the eventual heartburn. So this Christmas was really THE FEAST. Eat 'til you drop, that's what I told the girls. You see, it's a simple, modest, humble home but my mammy doesn't mess around in the kitchen. Her cooking is Michelin star-worthy, she's the best traditional cook ever and if you think I'm a hard-to-impress bitch with high standards, you obviously haven't tried food as scrumptious as Laurinha's. Her passion for food is inspiring and something I take very seriously. I find it impossible to copycat her cooking skills, and everything tastes bland and boring compared to her grilled chicken (if you think Nando's is the real deal, there is something deeply wrong with you) or the rich octopus salad with boiled eggs and avocado dressing. Seasoning, cooking, digesting... it's all a ritual. Thank fuck we had some Rennie, strong tasty black coffee and liquor to help us digest... We ended up like pythons after devouring an entire lamb, unable to stand or even move. Food high!

For starters, feast your eyes on these beauties: gigantic Jurassic-looking mussels (the garlicky lemon white wine sauce was to die for), delicious cockles and oysters we shucked ourselves with a kitchen knife. We really brought the flavour of the sea to our tastebuds with this shellfish feast. Those crab claws were yummy too, add some fresh bread and butter for some heavenly pairing. Crustaceans are my most recent crush. Also, look at that cheeeeese covered in dill and thyme! YUM. Mice would prostitute themselves for a bite of that, I tell ya. Shame on me for not photographing the enormous pomegranates we had as a midmeal snack - so sweet.

Prawns piri-piri were only the chapter 1 of a gluttony party that went on for several hours. Fried cod with coriander and caramelised onions certainly made an impression on the guests but my personal favourite and the winner of the evening was roast duck rice with orange slices (the juiciest, sweetest oranges you can possibly imagine, providing a refreshing citric contrast to this epic dish) and smoked chouriço. God almighty, that shredded duck still haunts my dreams, it's one of the heartiest comfort meals we all could ever experience.

There were a few surprises that made my eyes (and stomach) sparkle. Fried cod cakes stuffed with parsley, coriander, garlic and potato mash... OH.MY.FUCKING.GOD! So, so good! An absolute winner. My mam's rice with beans - homefuckin'made, obviously - was just perfect and basically something I'd eat on a regular basis since it's Winter and carbs come in handy. Now, let's talk about squid skewers. I remember eating them when I was a kid but I think I love them more now. Bacon, peppers, squid bits, onions, chouriço... all grilled and put together for the sake of gluttony. The sauce was a lovely cocktail of olive oil, garlic, butter and lemon. Trust me, it can't get any better than this.

And then there was pork. I'm not a huge fan of pork but my genius mother can bring out the best of anything, just get her the right ingredients and she will seduce the foodies with her memorable seasoning. We've had bifanas for lunch - it's a simple sandwich, really, the secret is in the way the pork is marinated. Expect a lot of garlic, white wine and mustard. Christ on a cross, it's a heavenly snack and it's as Portuguese as it gets. Wash it down with a cold beer and you'll know what I'm talkin' about. Roast pork with pineapple in a mustardy beer sauce was also a majestic meal that we still ate in the day after since it was still tender, tasty and juicy as fuck. And I repeat, pork isn't even my thing.

One word: quails. When properly seasoned and cooked, magic happens. My tastebuds can still remember that soy, garlic and wine sauce. These birds really made up for the absence of suckling pig (ah, the sticky glaze, the crispy crackling... I could write poems about it).

As you can imagine, there is ALWAYS room for dessert. Always. There's no other way. There were many cakes, dried figs with almonds and of course many digestion helpers like moscatel, Port wine and ginjinha in chocolate cups. We got liquored up and sugar high - the highlight of the entire week was my mam's chocolate mousse with walnuts, hazelnuts and brandy. Pure gooey chocolate porn. I could watch that shade of brown forever. My birthday cake was also a surprise: strawberry (or raspberry!?) cheesecake. One year older but still eating like a pig in stained pyjamas and very gladly wearing the dinosaur socks my mam offered me. So, are you drooling yet?

Disappointing Dinner at Front Door

I curse the moment I convinced Gerda to have dinner with me in this place - to be honest I wouldn't have entered it if we weren't both so hungry; every other place was packed and queuing for half an hour didn't sound good. 

Where do I start? The place itself is a gastropub-looking bistro with a cocktail bar and an inviting, reasonably priced (considering the central location) menu. Nice decor, glass roof, neat contemporary restaurant interiors dimly lit by candles. All good until we ordered the food. The waitress didn't know the actual meaning of the words coeliac and gluten-free so she was a bit confused when Gerda enquired about GF options. There was this fella at the bar who, for some reason, convinced himself we didn't speak English and tried to communicate via pseudo-sign language - I know I'm a bit deaf but come on. 

I ordered... you guessed it, steak. Sirloin steak with veggies and a glass of red wine for 20 euros (for that price, my expectations didn't fly too high), some weekend promotion going on. Gerda ordered roast chicken wrapped in bacon paired with cheddar mash, it actually looked better than my steak when it finally made it to our table. She wasn't too impressed, apparently the cheese was too gluey and the chicken a bland fiasco.  Now, the steak. Possibly one of the worst I've ever been served. Lukewarm, watery, far from rare and worse, NOT SEASONED. Unforgivable. The only silver lining in this cloud of unsatisfying meat was the subtle, distinctive taste offered by the charcoal grill. If there's something I'm actually great at is cooking the perfect steak and ruining a good cut of meat is a sin. A tragedy, really.

Washed-down-with-Malbec veggies were ok but the sides didn't make up for the catastrophic meal I've had. Can't really complain about the presentation but I wondered why the hell my pepper sauce was placed in a gigantic ramekin. Oh, and I didn't even bother finishing my chips because they were undercooked... I have one friendly advice to the chef: when in doubt, double fry it. I should also reveal that poor Gerda had a bad reaction after our unfortunate dinner. Cross contamination's a bitch. Moral of the story: you get what you pay for.

Carnivore Ecstasy at My Meat Wagon

I present you another Smithfield gem: My Meat Wagon! This is the place to go if a) you're hungry as fuck, b) you're a Texan BBQ enthusiast, c) you need a meat fix asap. My gluttony made me dive into a food coma-inducing feast, in one of the coolest spots in the Northside. Located right next to Lighthouse Cinema (how handy is that?), this meat wonderland offers an epic selection of cuts from ribs to brisket, including finger-lickin' delicious sides like tasty onion rings (I rarely enjoy them as they're often covered in tons of grease but I didn't complain about this batch), hearty chorizo-like sausages and homemade chips. 

We ordered a mixed meat platter, which is basically a board of meaty yummies: smokey pork belly, juicy pulled pork, scrumptiously seasoned chicken, the whole shebang. The texture was everything - crispy crust, juicy bits, succulent fat. Add a delightful BBQ and mustard sauce, and nothing beats a refreshing craft cider to wash it all down.

I liked how the decoration was simultaneously cool, cosy and casual, yet not too pretensious - and the toilet walls were covered in vinyl records. Gotta love some red neon and those butcher-reminiscent PVC curtains. Great atmosphere, groovy music (and more importantly, not too loud), genuinely friendly staff (thanks a mill for your efficiency and helpful suggestions, lads!) and everything on the menu was reasonably priced, offering an exceptional good value for such quantity and quality.

If you want to survive My Meat Wagon, you'll need an infinity of napkins and the appetite of a starving pig. Colossal portions rich in taste and texture are always worth drooling for; my stomach will forever welcome substancial comfort food like this.