Corin
119 High Street
Bangor
BT20 5BD
028 9122 7295
corinrestaurant.co.uk
BLAME it on a Catholic upbringing, but I always feel uncomfortable around the idea that food can be cooked in such a way as to render the pleasure intense – surely that’s not allowed.
Or perhaps it’s being Irish, a hangover from the Famine – food is fuel, food is survival, so get the spuds in and don’t be gettin ideas above your station. It’s all very well for them French, but who do we think we are, serving up amuses bouches on Bangor High Street? Bangor!
All the above buttons were pressed when I spied a dish that looked like a Philip Treacy fascinator floating by on its way to another table. What about the refugees? What would Jeremy Corbyn say?
But I’m delighted to report that I not only survived the journey into hedonism but came out the other side without feeling the need to immediately go to Confession. The trick is, the nouvelle cuisine at Corin is wholesome as well as fancy.
Yes, it’s elaborate – there are literally layers of flavour in every mouthful which is quite incredible to experience. But it’s also kind of simple – like everything has been stripped back to reveal and intensify the natural flavours, so it doesn’t feel gratuitously decadent (or not too much anyway).
Take my starter. The scallops were lightly pan-fried, and served with pancetta, leek and sauce vierge, a deceptively simple dressing made with olive oil, lemon and herbs. The tastes were beautiful – complex yet never threatening to overwhelm the naturally strong flavour of the seafood. Plus, the scallops were cooked just how I like them, which is not underdone.
Across the table, my partner’s eyes were feasting on dainty cubes of smoked eel with spots of pickled celery, carrot ribbons and 'textures of cucumber', which turned out to be a kind of whacky cucumber reduction – it sure as hell didn’t look like cucumber but, boy, did it taste like cucumber.
This is food that’s fun and inventive – like Willy Wonka has stormed the kitchen and is determined to put the playfulness and the alchemy back into cooking.
After a palate-cleansing sorbet, the mains continued the Zumba workout for the tastebuds. My monkfish was a fine, chunky piece of meat, with delicate shreds of cauliflower, leeks, girolle mushrooms and purple sprouting broccoli surrounding. Sure, a few chunky chips wouldn’t have gone amiss but hey, let’s not start on the spuds again.
Meanwhile, himself was happily clearing a fillet of hake with saffron potato, tomato and herb veloute, pak choi and that foraging vegetable du jour, samphire. He loved every flavour-calibrated morsel. The pleasure (there, I said it) was heightened by a rather lovely glass of French sauvignon blanc recommended by the well-informed and friendly sommelier. In fact, come to think of it, all the staff were lovely, which is not always what you expect with posh nosh.
But the best was still to come. Bucking the trend whereby dessert is usually the Big Letdown, Corin really came into its own. My fig tartelette with fig jam, textures of pear and, wait for it, cardamom ice-cream (mis-spelt as cardamon on the menu) was a glory.
The tart was quite rustic, which I loved – a rough-around-the-edges pastry case like your mum would make and wouldn't give the neighbours as it's not perfect-enough looking, filled with lovely thin slices of fresh fig. The jam was pleasant but the ice-cream – OMG, the ice-cream was amazing. Refreshing and daring – the absolute opposite of regular, sickly sweet. Way to go, Corin, you really impressed me with that one.
My dining partner was simultaneously blissing out with banana cake with hazelnut granola, cinnamon (also mis-spelt on the menu) ice-cream and espresso dressing. Once again, the combination of flavours hit all the right notes – think Cocteau Twins and you’ll get some idea of the endorphin-releasing, synesthetic experience we had.
A couple of good coffees (served with petits fours) rounded off a highly enjoyable evening, our faith in Norn Iron restaurants restored. It’s so inspiring to stumble across a place where people are striving for excellence – the decor is suitably classy also – and now that two NI eateries have put Michelin stars back on the map, Corin has everything to play for.
All it needs is local support – and maybe a proof-reader for the menu.
THE BILL
Scallops £8.95
Smoked eel £7.95
Hake £17.95
Monkfish £18.50
Banana cake £6.95
Fig tartlette £6.95
Coffee £2.95
Coffee £2.95
Glass wine £5
TOTAL: £78.15
