My Dublin home

Most people, I think, believe that restaurants are a place to spend some time and take a meal. I suppose for many this is the basic truth. For those folks, though, I feel sad because a quality experience in a restaurant is about so much more than what goes into your mouth.

I’ll give you an example…

The food at my favorite restaurant in Ireland (In Europe? In the world??) is fantastic – fresh, seasonal, creative, nicely presented and thoughtfully assembled. Yep, Dublin’s The Vintage Kitchen nails it every time.

But going there is about so much more than the food.

For instance, the music and the vibe. Both of these can be critical factors in creating an environment that invites one to settle in and simply enjoy. The playlist at the VK is wildly varied, yet wonderfully cohesive. There are songs I’ve never heard (hello, Pulp, where have you been all my life?) and nuggets that can reliably bring me to tears.

When my cousins and I had dinner there last week, a Tom Waits’ tune came on that prompted remembrance of one of their first dates and resulted in the staff indulging us with a medley of additional Waits’ songs. My long walk through Phoenix Park later in the week, was accompanied by the VK’s Spotify playlist as my soundtrack.

Do you have Spotify? If you do, go download the playlist right now. Don’t have Spotify? Get it.

Another aspect of an elevated restaurant experience is the decor. It doesn’t have to be fancy but, for me, it has to help create a consistent atmosphere. At the VK, the walls are artfully littered with musical references, Irish quotes and bright artwork. It’s as much a feast for the eyes as the cuisine is for the palate.

And, finally and most critically, the service. The people who are serving the food have the potential to deliver so much more than a meal and at the VK, I have been provided with true hospitality on each occasion I’ve been fortunate enough to dine there. It’s kind of like my experiences with U2 shows – each one has been even better than the previous one.

Last week was absolutely beyond stellar.

Prior to our 8:30 dinner reservation, the fam and I had plans to meet at Mulligan’s, the pub next door. Since Monday and Tuesday nights the VK hearkens back to their early, pre-licensed days by offering BYOB at a minimal corkage fee,

I came packing with a bottle of one of my favorite sparkling wines, an Alsatian Cremant, and I popped into the restaurant to leave my bottle to ask them to keep it cool. As soon as I stepped into the restaurant, I was approached by a server offering assistance. As she met my eye, she smiled and gave me a warm welcome, saying, “I remember you! You’ve been here before.”

In fact, last February, she had taken care of me when I had dined there solo. We had talked between courses about various topics as she graciously served me a meal and made me as comfortable as I’ve ever been in a restaurant.

I remembered her, too, and was thrilled to see her again.

After our pre-dinner drinks at the pub, our party of three settled into our table at the VK, sipping our bubbly while we read menus and made decisions about meals. Hard work complete, we sat back to enjoy the atmosphere and each other’s company, feeling fortunate to be together again after our recent shared time in Boston at the beginning of the holiday season.

During a lull in conversation, the party of four at the table next to us verbally approached my cousin, E. Now, you might not know this but, E is kind of a big deal after spending many years appearing in an Irish nighttime soap opera of sorts called Glenroe. It is not unusual for her to be approached when she’s out in Dubs and I’ve witnessed the fandom she inspires on other occasions. This time was different, though.

While it was clear that both couples were aware of E’s celebrity, the man who initiated contact wasn’t prompted by her own fame. Instead, it was his own experiences of having worked with her father many years prior. It wasn’t a case of “Aren’t you from Glenroe,” but a “Aren’t you Con’s daughter?,” and it was beautiful.

Connection made, the remainder of the evening was spent eating delicious food, drinking lovely wines, and having lively conversation amongst the seven of us with well timed visits from the staff. It was fantastic.

After the check had been paid, and the last sips of wine swallowed, I hugged the servers good night and we opened the door to depart. The last thing I heard from the staff was “See you soon.” We tumbled into our cabs and drove away.

Now, that, is what a great night in a restaurant is to me.

Have you had any experiences like it that define for you what a memorable meal out is?