Ballymaloe House, 30 miles southeast of Cork, has stood modestly but emphatically as the lodestar for Irish hospitality since Myrtle Allen and her late husband Ivan welcomed their first guests in 1964.
It has prospered not only because of the culinary principles Myrtle laid down, and which have been reinforced so personably by her daughter-in-law Darina, but also because, despite the obvious improvements such as a small golf course and a heated outdoor swimming pool, so little seems to have changed.
For those who make an annual pilgrimage to Ballymaloe, it still feels like the most comfortable home. The cosy sitting rooms and bedrooms, free of TVs or mini-bars, exude an air of calm. The walls are covered in paintings, prints and lithographs that the Allen family have bought over the past 40 years. And the staff, of course, play their part in this real-life country house drama to the full.
As a result, any visitor returning to Ballymaloe does so with invariably happy memories that Hazel Allen, another of Myrtle’s assiduous daughters-in-law and the one responsible for the hotel’s overall management, does her utmost to maintain. Yet we last ate here one magical spring Sunday lunch 27 years ago. Could even Ballymaloe stand this test of time?
Emphatically yes. No sooner had we settled into an airy bedroom leading straight on to the large garden than I went in search of the table where we had last eaten here. There it was by a large window, as welcoming as ever. I had certainly changed but not the room.
Our table that night was, however, in another of the seven small dining rooms. As Darina explained, “One of the great charms of taking over what was once a private house is that we have this succession of different rooms. None seems too impersonal and none ever gets too noisy.”
But this is Ireland and by 8pm the atmosphere in our particular dining room, which accommodates about 20 at half a dozen tables, could best be described as lively. The wine on every table was obviously partially responsible, and the list compiled by the highly enthusiastic sommelier Colm McCan is a treat, but so too is the equally attractive menu.
They have daily deliveries from the fishing village of Ballycotton ten miles away, but Friday nights are special because that is the day when the kitchen receives its weekly delivery of shellfish. So the Friday dinner menu starts with a buffet course including fresh oysters, prawns, mussels, salmon from the local smokehouses of Sally Barnes and Frank Hederman, and a vast array of vegetable dishes, all sourced from the hotel’s walled garden 100 yards from the kitchen.
The choice after that is one of three soups, of which the consommé julienne would have satisfied any classically trained French chef, and then half a dozen main courses. These included a finely prepared fillet of turbot with scallops and a slow-cooked spiced and braised leg of lamb. These two dishes, very different in their execution, showed the dexterity and confidence of head chef Jason Fahey.
I left Ballymaloe determined to return, and with one new memory. This was of the breadth of the smiles on the faces of the two waitresses as they explained first the cheese and then the dessert trolleys. Served with such genuine warmth, it is little wonder that Fahey’s food tastes so good.
Ballymaloe House, Shanagarry, Co. Cork, +353 21 465 2531, ballymaloe.ie
British Airways flies codeshare to Cork from London Heathrow. Book a flight on ba.com now.
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