I Get A Kick out of Kicky's

My first restaurant review in over a year

One of my favourite chefs - and people (sometimes an important distinction) - is Jeremy Lee of Quo Vadis in Soho. He uses the word “kickshaw” to describe small, usually crisp, often salty little bites that go especially well with an aperitif. It’s an old-fashioned word, derived, supposedly, from the French quelque chose by which is meant Winnie-the-Pooh’s celebrated “little something”. Jane Grigson extended kickshaws to include one filled with jam. An excellent idea.

When Eric Matthews, formerly of Chapter One when Ross Lewis was at the helm, and Richie Barrett, late of Etto and Uno Mas, opened their restaurant Kicky’s last Autumn, I assumed that the name is related in some way to kickshaws. I may be wrong, but it seems reasonably appropriate, reflecting a marked and commendable reluctance to apply the soft pedal on flavours.

With pedigrees like theirs, expectations were high and early reviews were enthusiastic, sometimes wildly so. Corinna Hardgrave saluted the food as “inventive, original and skilfully cooked with flavours that are ratcheted up to full throttle.” Lucinda O’Sullivan urged readers to beat a path to its door, Leslie Williams said he’ll be back for the “punchy flavours”, while All The Food, only marginally less impressed, concluded that Kicky’s was “off to a flying start.”

By the time I made my way there on a Wednesday night in May it was certainly flying. I had been careful to book well in advance as Kicky’s still has some of the hottest tables in the capital.

First impressions? Formerly Temple Garner’s San Lorenzo, the fit-out is stripped back, modishly industrial, with a touch of pop art. It’s busy and pretty loud but not unpleasantly so, and it’s brightly lit. Service is friendly and charming. The menu is divided between “bites”, “to share” (essentially starters), “main course over charcoal” and “sweets” (oh, how I hate that word; it’s marginally better, I suppose, than “afters”) of which there are just two, plus a cheese selection.

The most talked-about – or, more accurately,  Instagramed – menu item has been the focaccia (proved for 72 hours) served with “carbonara butter” (€8). This is not a Kicky’s  invention but I’m pretty sure they introduced it to Irish restaurants.

Essentially it’s whipped butter with Parmesan and Pecorino plus little fragments of crisped guanciale. If, like me, you like all these things, you will love it. And the focaccia is first rate. The only problem, for me, is that it sates the appetite before I get a crack at the rest of the menu. And that would be a shame.