Certain pathfinders travel so far ahead, that the full import of their trailblazing can be muddied or even entirely obscured by the time the chasing pack catches up. The Black Pig (TBP) fits that bill.
Life/business partners Siobhan Waldron and Gavin Ryan met while working in Dublin’s Ely Wine Bar for almost a decade but when they first opened TBP in Kinsale, back in 2013, a ‘wine bar’ sounded like the last thing the ‘Gourmet Capital of Ireland’ needed, as, bar a few noble exceptions, a tired and lacklustre local hospitality offering was running on fumes from its gourmand glory days of the previous century.
While Dublin’s Ely wine bar, a long-running and progressive operation, opened in 1999, and Cork’s L’Atitude 51 opened in 2011, back then, Kinsale seemed an odd choice of location, having lost its vital spark of former years.
It took TBP all of a wet weekend to begin proving otherwise, a smash hit from the off.
For starters, it was effortlessly stylish; timeless, muted interiors, a blessed union of traditional Irish pub and elegant Spanish bodega, with a lovely semi-enclosed garden oasis to the rear. TBP remains one of Ireland’s most becoming venues.
Not only did TBP open with a superb list (now 300 wines, 100 by the glass; overwhelmingly organic, biodynamic, and natural) but it also included a splendid sherry selection accompanied by a messianic zeal to convert all to this still criminally overlooked nectar.
The initial food offering was small, to complement the wines, but influences were immediately evident, graced with a distinctly Spanish sensibility.
Initially, that largely meant judicious shopping for premium speciality imports — and they still feature prominently — but gradually in-house dishes of finest fresh local produce were added; no outré innovation but hitting the mark every time.
In fact, TBP was exactly the adrenaline shot to the heart Kinsale required, building on local underground stirrings to kickstart Kinsale 2.0 and a return to its place at the top table.
These days, the always charming seaside port hosts some of the finest contemporary establishments in Ireland.
Several are amongst my most favourite in the country: fabulously funky OHK Café; St Francis Provisions, a national superstar; and the monumentally magnificent Primm’s, TBP alumnus Simon Primm’s bookstore-cum-sherry/wine bar, so sublimely singular, I once settled a nocturnal bar tab that included good natural wine, greasherries and a Damon Runyon 1st edition.
And then, as I repeatedly returned to these fine establishments, it dawned on me that, while TBP was their natural stablemate, they rarely cropped up together in the same conversation.
Captain Seadog and I arrive on a miserable evening to find TBP heaving with a joyful clatter of humanity, exuberance crackling in the ether like electricity, and once we manage the alchemical feat of scoring a walk-in ‘ringside’ seat at the bar on Easter Saturday night, we’re like a pair of giddy kids waiting for the circus to begin.
The crisp, dry bite of Lustau Palo Cortado sherry, nutty shavings of Tete de Moine cheese and salted Marcona almonds aid perusal of the menu but I’m pretty soon lost in the wonderful wine list until rumbling from CS’s belly and grumbling from his béal chivvies me into action.
An extraordinarily good Fontanasanta Manzoni Bianco (Vigneti delle Dolomiti 2022) from Foradori, a favourite Italian winemaker, gets us up and running; shimmering, silky, with notes of camomile, sage, sweet apple and a poised, delicate acidity.
My first encounter with authentic croquetas in Spain began an ongoing lust, yet to be sated.
TBP’s serrano ham and chorizo croquetas are amongst the best I’ve eaten, light crunchy breaded shell housing molten lava of velvet béchamel, studded with salty-sweet porcine nuggets; creamy, astringent aioli, a divinely calibrated counterpoint.
Colum O’Regan’s Horizon Farm’s purple sprouting broccoli is chargrilled to a smokey snap, lounging indolently in sweetly-acidic romesco, showered in almond, sherry and caper dressing.
Plump, swollen panfried Dublin Bay prawns glisten in chilli butter, garlic, parsley and lemon; the recipe is starkly simple, the impact, deep and primal.
Somewhere along the way, we turn to one of the Loire Valley’s ‘heritage’ grapes, Pineau D’Aunis, in Eric Nicolas’ Domaine de Bellivière Rouge Gorge 2018.
I liked it a year ago in Waterford’s Union Wine Bar & Kitchen but time has added further elegance to its minerality and soft spicy fruit, which reins in the exquisite excess of succulent, meaty Ballyhoura mushrooms with parmesan on toast.
Virtuous and pure cucumber and coriander raita puts similar manners on sinfully louche sweet potato and spinach pakora with pickled red onion.
A charcuterie board of Gubbeen chorizo, finocchioni, Chorizo Ibérico de Bellota and serrano ham ‘Gran Reserva’ offers further pleasures, but is then eclipsed by freshly sliced Jamon Ibérico de Bellota, lush fat buttering up melting salty-sweet flesh, wearing an intoxicating hum of saddle.
Close to saturation, we share a single, near-perfect crème brûlée; it achieves total perfection when paired with Christmassy spices of syrupy Lustau PX.
That would be a good point to stop but barman Brendan decides otherwise, taking Valentia Vermouth to astonishing new heights, creating an elemental digestif with just fresh mint and orange peel.
TBP is a true national treasure … and it never went away, you know?
- Food: 8.5/10
- Service: 9.5/10
- Value: 8.5/10
- Atmosphere: 10/10 (’10’ is the starting point in Bank Holiday Kinsale!)