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28th May 2019
10:56am BST

So now, if you’ll bear with me, I’m going to enter into an extended metaphor likening the dishes to the Nirvana album Nevermind.
Our first dish was basically the Smells Like Teen Spirit of opening gambits – a plate of bright green asparagus with dukkha (a Middle Easter blend of nuts and spices) and Velvet Cloud sheep’s yoghurt. Simple but perfectly executed. The asparagus was a welcome shock of Spring on a plate, while the slightly sour, creamy yoghurt provided a moreish sauce. It was a delight.
Next up came the ling fillet with crispy chicken skin and baby turnip with turnip pesto. Ling is a close relative of cod, though I felt it was a teensy bit more substantial in texture. The overall vibe here is subtlety. It’s kind of the ballad of the album, Polly. If you’re a fan of big, robust flavours this one may not be for you – for us the fish was well-cooked and flavoursome but the turnips were the real revelation. I am a woman who reads that fairy tale about the gigantic turnip to my kids and genuinely every time thinks, “ugh WHAT are they going to do with all that turnip?” This dish really shifted my opinion however and me and my eating teammate were fighting over the turnip pesto – a great showcasing for the oft-underused turnip greens.
Our next course was the crowd pleaser, Come As You Are – two generous, nicely pink-in-the-centre pieces of Irish lamb rump served with violetta potatoes and greens. It was mega yum.
And now for the actual, real, no-F*CKIN-arguments, don’t-@me-in-the-comments, BANGER of the album, Stay Away in the form of a fried cauliflower. Yeah, I know were little surprised too. We were still guzzling the juices from the lamb from our fingers when the cauliflower appeared. We’d even forgotten we’d ordered it and I sensed we were both looking dolefully at this new culinary mountain to climb.
“Sure we’ll have a taste,” I ventured, privately thinking look, there’s no way I give a shit about this cauliflower business after that lamb.
Then Mother of Divine Jehovah – as Kurt, himself, would say – it was good. Really good. Good, like we threw ourselves upon it. Gorging, fighting over choice morsels and generally marveling between bites.
From the menu description, it sounded unassuming – panfried cauliflower, mushrooms and spelt – but, oh, it was an absolute joy to eat. The crunch of the cauliflower contrasted nicely with the soft spelt while the mushrooms packed a punch of umami.
Desserts were two classics with the INK stamp of precision and care. An Eton Mess with blackcurrents was inspired, the berries were unsweetened though I was here for the sharp twist, tempered as it was by shards of meringue amid the whipped cream. The rhubarb posset was flawless – the perfect balance of rich, creamy posset with just the right hint of acid and complimented nicely with tart rhubarb.
With INK being so good, I’ve now been pitched into an irrational (and probably slightly in bad taste) anxiety about it being not long for this world, á la our beloved Kurt. That is why I’m concluding the review with a vehement urging of everyone to GO THERE. We need to show our indie diamonds the love they deserve. Supporting INK is both the right and the delicious thing to do.
INK at the Lexicon
Open for brunch, lunch & coffee , Monday to Sunday 9am-5pm
INK Supper Club is Friday & Saturday 6pm-9.30pm (call 01 236 0425 for bookings for larger groups)