Allta Bar

What should we know about Allta Bar?

The ever-evolving Allta only made it about four months in the OG Setanta Place space that’s now home to Library Street, before the pandemic forced a closure never to be undone. Well received Summer and Winter House popups throughout those strange years added a cocktail bar, Glovebox, to the stable, and while its artsy vibes and great drinks made it a hit, we sensed the dropping of the name for the stripped-back 'Allta Bar' suggested a change in direction.

Since Allta’s new permanent docklands home opened in January of this year, the smaller space to the left of the building has done solid business for a pre and post-dinner drinks – that’s as much thanks to the lack of any decent options nearby as the custom sound system and decks they installed. Something bigger though was always the plan, and the start of the month saw the launch of a new bar menu to turn this section from high-end waiting room to a destination of its own.

Where should we sit?

With exposed concrete and air vents aplenty softened with fur furnishings and a plethora of plant life, the more casual bar space manages to hit a balance between openness and intimacy. Mismatched swivel and bucket seats as well as benches are set at low tables, for a sit-back-and-sip comfort more fitting for a drinks-only affair.

Those out to eat greedily (guilty your honour) might be best off asking for one of the three high-stool two-tops, or taking a space at the twelve-seater circular bar – the lower tables might make you feel you’ve been seated at a kids’ Christmas table, awkwardly leaning forward to cut through a knee-height steak from your lower perch.

What’s on the menu?

The staff will point your attention toward the oilskin dungaree-clad man in the mural – as if you could miss him – and tell you the tale of Paddy O’Sullivan, the Kerry oyster fisherman whose catch has been on Allta’s plates just as his furrowed brow has been on its walls, since those first days back in 2019. A lesser venue might make this backstory sound like a sales spiel, but true enthusiasm isn’t easily faked, and a passion for provenance is a theme of the meal.

Close your eyes as these sizeable specimens slip-side from the shell and you could be head-deep in the waters of Cromane Bay, such is the fresh shock of salt water. As the meat’s sweetness takes over, house fermented hot sauce and mignonette bring a tart and tangy balance, and the wall décor makes more sense as the quality sinks in.

Not much can match the gasp-courting quality of a top-tier oyster’s briny blast, but the bluefin tuna makes a good go of it. We’ve seen a few versions of these tartare rosti bites at the new Allta, with mussel and dexter beef last spring a standout, but this latest levelling-up leaves them in the dust. The chilli-citrus kick of yuzu koshō plays off the intense sea-saltiness of the fish and the rosti’s crisp richness, for a snack we slivered off in wafer-thin bites to make it last longer.

Pity the poor arancini having to stack up after those two. There’s nothing wrong with Allta’s take on the Sicilian street food, almost obligatory on bar menus these days, but the scale of invention that went before isn’t anywhere in sight here. Tender, fatty flakes of beef shin generously stirred through the bright yellow risotto make for a tasty mouthful and a pretty sight, but sensitive souls that we are we found the saffron notes too domineering.

You won’t find Allta’s beef supplier plastered on the wall but Woodtown, proud owners of Ireland’s oldest purebred Jersey herd, have just as prominent a place. Chef and owner Niall Davidson spent time as a butcher and has put a lot of thought into how we can be more sustainable and less wasteful with beef – fatted ex-dairy cattle are the result.

At the restaurant side of the house, you’ll find a choice of steak cuts charged by the 100g; here, it’s an even €18 for the cut of the day – if there’s any you’re unkeen on, be sure to ask. Ours was short rib, superbly charred from the alternating grill-and-rest technique Davidson has settled on for his custom beef, with the medium rare interior’s locked-in juices teeming forth from tenderised meat. The thick puddle of horseradish bearnaise is a smart accompaniment, if on occasion a little too sweet for our palates.

We know you're dying to know about the Allta Bar cheeseburger that's been touted so much in their promo photos. It's a masterpiece, as good a use as any for this prime meat. House pickles, Mount Leinster cheddar, a fermented potato bun from No Messin’, and the infamous shiitake miso butter we all licked the jar clean of in those lockdown box days - every element of this is one we would eat in isolation, but brought together it’s the stuff of burger loving dreams, a concert of quality ingredients that bolster rather than bury the beef. The scant serving of chips are hand-cut and triple-fried to moreishness, ill-served by having so few more on either plate - another spud is hardly likely to torpedo the price point.

That this is going for €18 is a shock - given the endless gastropubs around the area shilling a basic-as burger for that or more, this feels like the deal of the year.

We couldn’t quite say the same for the €28 dessert (not a typo). Six grams of caviar and a strip of gold leaf are primarily to blame for that price point, a luxury temptation that feels out of sorts with the rest of the meal. The minimal waste philosophy is in play again, with potato peels saved from compost and oven-caramelised for an intensely earthy, subtly sweet ice cream. We’ll confess a cynicism that spud scraps and sturgeon egg would make for a sensible pairing, but the silky-soft scoop played so well off the salt-spiked richness of the roe that we ate our words along with our caviar.

Tiramichoux is as nice to eat as it is to say, and a good deal less guilt-inducing on your wallet than the ice cream. Have cameras at the ready for the stream of caramel that cascades down the filling of mascarpone cream as you cut through the crisp pastry. The contrastingly light and heavy textures are a wonder to munch through, with the smooth coffee oil ice cream and crunchy cacao nibs adding extra flavour bursts.

We might have expected petit fours over at the restaurant, but not so much the bar. A blackcurrant pastille was a densely delicious shock of intense fruit flavour, while a pretty orange caramel bonbon brought a just-right richness to round things off. A pitch-perfect contrast of crisp caramelised exterior and chewy custard centre are the hallmarks of any great canelé; here, as elsewhere, Allta shows its no amateur.

What are the drinks like?

This new lease of life for the bar brings with it a new cocktail menu, most at a €16 price point that puts it solidly toward the top of the market – we noted that’s a €2.50 hike on the previous list we sipped our way through when the space bore the Glovebox name. The quality has risen along with the price though, and if you’re willing to part with that amount it won't be spent in vain.

The Scottish-Irish hybrid 'Rathlin' pairs poitín and Islay single malt with sherry and kelp for a smoke and salt-saturated answer to an old fashioned – what a way to whet the appetite. 'Skellig Michael' sits among the lighter choices, gin spiked with the complexity of Stillgarden’s Glas 55 herbal liqueur and the crisp bite of apple juice. As a fresh foil to cut through richer dishes it works very well.

We cannot urge you enough to have an 'Aran' with dessert. Allta’s miso butter shot to fame long ago, but here it’s found an altogether higher purpose washed with Teelings for a butterscotch-scented beauty we want to drink again and again. For those not partaking, the 'Conor’s' gets a kick from Fire & 5th's N/A spirit, played off the zip of a grapefruit and a tarragon sherbet-spiked tonic for a grownup teetotal choice.

The solid BTG wine list counts producers we've enjoyed elsewhere in the city like La Sapata, Bulli, Meinklang and Hacienda la Parrilla among the 12-strong choice. There's plenty to enjoy there, and all the more by the bottle, with prices broadly on-par with competitors like Note

How was the service?

As in the restaurant, the Allta staff are trained to a tee on every inch of the menu, and bristling to be asked for more detail. They will go long and deep on any dish if you care to hear more, without the stuffiness that sometimes brings. Service here is a testament to the reality that you can keep it informal without ever being anything less than deadly serious about great food.

The plates here could be wheeled out by mute robots and would still sing, but the staff’s copious pride and passion speaks volumes about the kind of food culture that's been sought out and cultivated, and it’s infectious.

And the damage?

We had a much fuller feast than we’d expect most to enjoy at Allta Bar – caviar and all – so don’t take our €115 food bill (cocktails came to another €60) as any kind of indication. It is fair to say we went all-in; more normal sorts could exit well fed for €30 a head before drinks. There’s not many places around town you can eat so well for so little.

One sore note that we didn’t notice until afterwards was a €6 charge for those petit fours we never asked for. We’d pay it again, but it doesn’t feel right not to know it in advance.

What’s the verdict on Allta Bar?

For all we’ve loved Allta in its many guises, it’s fair to say it’s never quite been a casual night out – to all but the most devout food fans, this has always been special occasion stuff. This new Allta Bar feels like a conscious effort to elbow into another end of the market, with some dishes – mains especially – clocking in at prices of sensational value for the quality you get. To have ethical, sustainable, seasonal and minimal-waste food this accessible is an exciting development for the city, and we hope it gets as busy as it deserves to be.