7 March 2022
A visionary leader could be described as a person who sees the full potential of an idea or concept, how it should exist in the world, and is moved to realise that vision. JP McMahon is one of those people. With bells on. A self - confessed workaholic, DR. McMahon is herculean in his bid to put Ireland on the global culinary map. Restaurant Aniar, JP’s flagship Michelin starred restaurant in the heart of Galway city is a mirror of obsession. A passionate obsession for indigenous Irish foods, artisan producers, wild edibles and traditions. It’s not just the food. Hibernicisms run through the veins of Aniar. Our visit to Aniar was an eye-popping assault on the senses, all to the backdrop of JP’s voice imparting knowledge, stories and insights. If you are jaded with the food industry come here, or to one of his other establishments, Cava and Tartare and if you are not infected by his vision throw away your knives, rip up your toque and walk away!
Aiming to reclaim a country's food heritage suggests that it was lost. Reclaiming Irish food does not mean denouncing a multicultural approach to food, indeed the reverse. The genius lays in producing dishes associated with other countries, classics, without losing the integrity of the dish but being in no doubt what country you are in when you are eating it. It is not enough to just substitute ingredients; you need to get to the soul of it. Easy right? I believe this takes more than dedication and knowledge, if this was the case there are no shortages of passionate dedicated chefs in Ireland. It takes belief. The type of belief that borders on arrogance and even a touch of madness. Persistent, resilient and resolute. A willingness to put yourself forward, to be ridiculed, to constantly fight your corner, it’s not for the faint hearted. It is to be greatly admired.
The food
Every last bite was a lesson in flavour, technique and a display of intimate knowledge of the ingredients. The team in Aniar do not use lemons, but the acid hints would test the best palate to discern where it came from. Umami was ever present. Salinity often coming from seaweed concoctions. Salt is a bone of contention within the kitchens of Aniar, with JP regaling us with stories of (often disgruntled) chefs arguing over the texture of salts from different parts of the world, demanding they be used. Sweetness is allowed to come to the fore using techniques designed to allow the ingredients natural sweetness to shine, not too much, just enough. Everything is a delicate balance of taste, flavour, texture and mouthfeel. I almost wept over the oysters, not enough to blur my vision of one left at the other side of the table though! Balanced is too boring of a word to use here. Eating those oysters was like making love to Poseidon. I may need to calm myself a little.
I could write a novel about the experience of this workshop. A bestseller I’m sure! I may be waxing lyrical, but, the importance of a workshop like this cannot be underestimated. You cannot be what you cannot see. Seeing, listening, tasting a vision can lead a person to have faith in their own vision, to have belief and to go ahead and shuck their own oyster.
Not just the food
The menu is a love letter to Ireland. It invites the diner to not only peruse what will be offered to them but, to immerse themselves in this vision. A map of Ireland showing a snapshot of ten thousand years of food heritage, an introduction to JP’s writings, pride of place given to their suppliers and all printed on artisan seed paper made specifically for Aniar. Just beautiful.
Trying to describe the crockery is beyond my writing skills. They were so earthy but delicate. I’m not sure if terroir is used as a term associated with ceramics but these were ‘of the place’. They looked like the west of Ireland. They felt like the west of Ireland.
I tasted a vision. I knew what country I was in.
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