14 January 2009 |  By Pat Nolan

Ruminating over the Christmas period about sunnier times in 2008, I experienced a certain warm glow when remembering my summer hols which were somewhat soggy as I topped them off with a week on the Shannon, often cruising through the Irish version of Cyclone Gustav. At the time though, my thoughts were not on the weather but rather on the fortnight we’d spent immediatly before the Shannon trip – in France. Now I like my grub as much as the next trencherman but it makes me very happy to be able to relate that these days, French cuisine couldn’t hold a candle to our own. No matter where we went in France – and we traversed the country quite thoroughly by car – the food was practically an identikit version or variation of Steak Frites, Crepe Frites, Spaghetti and other pasta dishes etc, all cooked with a nonchalant air which showed up in the lacklustre flavours and couldn’t-care-less attitude to tourists. This was finally brought home to me by the really really good food and service we experienced in pubs and restaurants along the shores of the Shannon.

Here lies a good example of Irish pubs that are firmly not part of a major conurbation making a go of it in ‘the wilds’. The food and the beverages were excellent as was the atmosphere. After all, that’s what we’d come for and I’d reckon we must have been representative of millions of other ‘tourists’ all looking for the same thing from our hostelries, unmindful of the Irish weather. I was particularly impressed by the food and service in the excellent Larkins in Garrykennedy and decided to firmly moor ourselves to one of their tables in this scrupulously clean establishment on a number of occasions during our week afloat. We weren’t disappointed. The fare was fabulous. I don’t even like Fish Chowder but was encouraged to try a spoonful by my better half. I ordered it for myself the next time we were in. Atlantic mussels, roast duckling and as much steak as you could comfortably spancel in a weekend – all immaculately cooked and presented before the pub settled into a traditional music session for the evening. Maura and Cormac Boyle took over the place two years ago and a great fist they’ve made of it too. The coup de grace came when – uncharacteristically – someone forgot the order of French Fries which, on being reminded, arrived at the end of the meal. Still nobody minded; we’d eaten our fill and the Guinness was good. When the bill arrived, Maura insisted that there would be no charge for an order that didn’t arrive on time. So free chips and a fulsome feeling as we waddled back to the boat that night, having enjoyed Irish hospitality at its finest. If our experience is replicated by other tourists visiting this country there could be no finer place to eat than in Irish pubs such as Larkins. We should be proud. Footnote: Alas our enjoyable evening in Larkins wasn’t to last the night. We returned to our craft and had to let out one sick dog from the boat’s cabin which Hurricane O’Gustav had rocked and rolled mercilessly for the evening while we were in the pub, leaving us with doggie vomit and other attractive traits of the family pet in a number of unsuspecting places……

Source: Drinks Industry Ireland Magazine