16 SEPTEMBER 1978, Page 27

Garden cooking

Kerry's gold

Marika Hanbury Tenison

Have you noticed a thing about children that always fascinates me? They have an apparently in-built attraction to what I, at any rate, would call 'bad taste'. Take my seven-year-old for instance; Rupert actually likes garishly coloured plastic lampshades, shocking pink carnations, and animals made out of shells with 'a present from Seaforth' scrawled across them; and he is, of course, addicted to 'junk' food. Imagine my surprise therefore when, travelling to the west of Ireland, Rupert and I stayed in a hotel called the Arbutus Lodge in Cork, and this small boy actually became ecstatic when the 'fish and chips' I had asked to be sent up for his supper turned out to be an exquisitely grilled dover sole accompanied by some wafer-thin, crisp saute potatoes. The last thing I had expected to find in the west of Ireland was a gastronomic treat. Over dinner I became friends with Mr Ryan, the owner of the hotel. We chatted sporadically as I ate Dublin Bay prawn tails served in a delicate sauce, followed by a grilled lobster I had picked out from a tank of live and angry armour-plated bodies. After I thought I had finished eating I joined the Ryan family for their evening meal, unable to resist a featherweight fish pate and an amazing chocolate gateau. Next day, however, Rupert was bored with the gastronomic scene. After a long drive through wet and foggy Irish countryside I was only too glad to find the haven of the Ballylickey House Hotel, and to relax in a log cabin by the swimming pool where the French chef worked magic with an open log fire, grilling steaks that were singed on the outside and pink in the middle. Our destination was County Kerry. There we were to join a house party on an estate called 'Doreen' with one of the most beautiful gardens! have seen. The climate is soft, damp and almost sub-tropical and the land (the gardens are open to the public) has been shaped by nature and men into a series of breath-taking views and vistas gently sloping down to the Kenmare River. For the thirteen children in the party it was the nearest thing to heaven with the additional bonus of an imported cook whose heavy hand with the liquid Oxo, glace cherries and angelica proved to be just what they appreciated. For the grown-ups there were freshly cooked shrimps, mussels and mackerel.

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland please make a pilgrimage to Doyle's Sea Food Bar in Dingle for if woods, caves on islands, climbable trees and Mars Bars for lunch were Rupert's dream, then Doyle's Sea Food Bar was mine. It is small, unpretentious and intimate, scrubbed pine tables in a converted pub, and Mrs Doyle cooks some of the best sea food I have eaten. I tried sea urchins for the first time, oysters grilled with a snail butter, and lobsters that were so fresh their flesh melted like butter in your mouth.

The Blue Bull at Smeen run by yet another attractive Irishman, Peter Robinson (weathered complexion, bright blue eyes and home-spun sweaters), is also a converted pub. On his menu he has moules marinieres, mushroom pate and locally smoked mackerel pâté; there is local salmon with cucumber and cream (arrange salmon steaks in a lightly buttered dish, surround with chunks of cucumber which have been salted and left to sweat to rid them of excess liquid, season and add just a little dry vermouth and smother with cream. Cover with foil and bake in a moderate oven for about 30 minutes or until the fish is just cooked).

Although the sea food is still plentiful in this part of the world and the meat is exceptionally good, one thing was lacking —fresh vegetables. The Ryans and the Graves at Ballylickey grow a certain amount of their own garden produce but if you try to find anything other than potatoes, onions, carrots and cabbage in the smaller towns you will be disappointed. It is strange that the Irish have not yet caught on to the fact that the rest of the world is becoming more and more vegetable-conscious. In that soft, semi-tropical climate of the west of Ireland they could grow an amazing variety of vegetables to, one would have thought, great advantage. Now there is an idea for anyone who wants to get back to the 'good life' and make enough on the side to keep him in Guinness for the rest of his life.