Photos by Mike Rathjen

Chris Mahony comes from a long line of “publicians” and if his restaurant Mahony and Sons is any indication of his rising popularity he is going to continue to win “pint-sized” votes.

My first introduction to the Mahony and Sons Public House situated on the University of British Columbia’s campus was an evening where I took in a performance of long-time friend Bobby Bruce a.k.a. Nearly Neil. As the tribute artist rocked the house with Neil Diamond greats, my entourage and I sipped pints of dark Guinness and grazed on pub snacks. It was a brief visit but it wetted my appetite for more. A follow-up visit, after taking in a 2010 Olympic event, further engaged my curiosity when I looked more closely at the actual pub’s interior. I was captivated by the attention to detail and wanted to sit down and chat with owner Chris Mahony to hear more about the restaurant’s inception, the menu, and the design of Mahony and Sons.

The story of this family owned and operated business is as personal as the sign on the door that greets pub-goers. The script reading Mahony & Sons was taken from Chris’s great grandfather’s signature on his wedding certificate, and it is the icon that cements the brand that the restaurant pivots around. In fact everything from the interior to the menus have been designed around this motif, and it works like a lucky charm.

Chris worked with the acclaimed Irish Pub Company out of Dublin to create the final public house. The challenge was to take the 5052 square foot space, that seats more than 200 people, and design it in a way as to maintain the cozy feel that pub goers are drawn to. Everything from the Gaelic inspired design, signature ceiling, unique bric-a-brac, snugs, and menus all work together seamlessly to create an authentic Irish public house with the Mahony and Sons brand.

I’m a really big fan of the snugs. These are little sections or pockets designed in the room for more intimate conversations. Chris explains the design concept of the snug saying, “The Irish pub concept is all about going to a place where you can meet fiends and chat and so we’ve created little areas to get away that are more secluded. Along with the theme of warm and cozy, when you are designing a space as big as this, you want to feel like you’re part of the pub, the snugs are a little more separated. The whole design concept is comfortable and cozy.”

A sharp business owner, Chris really sees the importance of branding Mahony & Sons. He says, “You have to have a strong brand in business because everything you do is represented by your brand.”

The proof is the pudding so to speak. Mahony and Sons have won multiple awards for their branding, overall company design, and the creation and look of specific products like their in-house beer called the “Hatchet”.

But let’s get to where this Foodist finds her flavours. Mahony and Sons is an Irish pub and thus has some traditional fan favorites. My photographer and I gobbled up the Spiced Onion & Guinness Soup, the Bangers & Colconnon Mashed Potatoes with Roasted Vegetables, and of course the Irish Stew. The stew was by far my favorite. It was a perfect plate of rich meaty braised leg of lamb deglazed with Guinness. We couldn’t get enough and even now as I write this I crave the concoction. Of course I paired this with a “Mahony size” 20-ounce pour of Guinness, and then strangely felt “culinarily” transported to Ireland – “Erin go Bragh”!!!

While dining on these greats, Chris shared with me his excitement for the launch of a new menu in June. He has been consulting with Executive Chef Chuck Currie to create and establish new items that will take Mahony and Sons to the gastropub level. The new menu boasts items like Seared Jumbo Prawns in four flavours (Moroccan, Spanish, Indian and Szechuan), Chicken Papaya Salad, new burgers like the Fontina Cheese and Truffled Crimini Mushroom, semolina thin crust pizzas, and non-traditional mains such as Thai Panang Chicken Curry, and the Miso Maple Salmon. And of course he is keeping a solid selection of traditional Irish fare.

Chris is serious in his passion for the public house. He is detail oriented, has a rich entrepreneurial spirit, and takes educated risks all the while listening and adapting to what his customers want.

With an enthusiasm that can’t be capped Chris explains his vision for the future. “Our vision is building Mahony and Sons into a small chain. So this is the first one and we are opening up our second one downtown which is a natural extension for us.”

Mahony and Sons Burrard Landing will seat 230 people inside, with an additional 150 seats on the patio, and will cater to the downtown business crowd, convention centre staff and guests, residents, hotel and tourist customers, as well as the cruise ship industry.

When asked where he sees Mahony and Sons in 5-10 years a spirited Chris, and with a twinkle in his eye says, “I think you’ll see five to ten Mahony and Sons!”

I wish you “Sláinte agus táinte” (health and wealth) Chris!

Photos by  www.michaelrathjen.com

Oblique cut: cut carrots at a 45 degree bias, quarter turn it towards you so the cut side faces up, cut again at 45 degree right through the middle of the cut face. Quarter turn it again and repeat the process.

Have you ever been in a situation where you don’t know what to make for dinner, so you resort to something basic and generic that you’ve made a million times before, and something that thousands of other families in the continent are also having tonight like a pasta bolognese, chicken casserole, or a stew? And so you go through the drill, you make the dish, you feed your family with it, and everyone eats it with no complaint. I have an experience to share that might change your perspective the next time you make one of these mundane dishes.

One day in culinary school, I was assigned a task to cook something from Irish cuisine. “Irish cuisine? Isn’t that just meat and potatoes?” I thought, wishing I was the student with the Caribbean cuisine assignment. I chose the Irish stew, and then headed out to find Chef Duffy, an English man with an Irish father. “Chef Duffy, what’s in an Irish stew?” I asked.  “Beef, potatoes, carrots, peas….you know,” he shrugged and looked as though he was sorry he couldn’t give me a more exciting answer.  “There’s no Guinness or something in there?” I inquired, desperate for anything special. “Nope.” I got the point, it’s just a stew.

“Then I’ll make it the best gosh darn stew I’ve ever had!” I thought, inspired by my disappointment.  Here was the philosophy I adopted and the moral of the story: Maximize the flavor potential of every boring ingredient you have.

So I could’ve made a mundane stew by throwing the beef and vegetables in some stock, let it cook until tender, thicken it with some flour, add some salt and pepper and call it a day.  But instead, here’s what I did:

First, the meat. I was given pretty much the cheapest cut of beef available, but it didn’t matter, because I was going to, that’s right, maximize its potential.  Firstly, and most importantly: I salted the beef before I did anything to it. Salting the stew at the end would’ve made my liquid salty, but the beef would’ve remained bland. Salting the beef now gives the salt a chance to penetrate the meat itself. Then I tossed the beef in flour and seared it in butter and oil.  Butter for flavor, oil for higher smoking point. The flour helps with browning and thickening. I used high heat for maximum caramelization, because caramelization equals flavor and color. By the way, by sear I don’t mean stir-fry. I didn’t touch the meat until I made sure it was well browned, then I flipped it and let it brown again on the other side because as soon as I stirred it around, I would’ve lost my color. Also very important was my searing the beef in small batches—crowding the pan causes steam which leads to insipid, uncaramelized beef.

Next, I deglazed it with chicken stock. Not the stuff from a cube, but the one I made with love which I knew was flavorful and delicious. I could’ve used water, but as one of my chefs always says, there’s no love in water! Then I salted it again, because now I wanted to make sure my liquid was salted so that when I add my vegetables, it would season my vegetables as they cooked.

At this point I also added onions, because cooking onions for a long time would dissolve it completely into the stock, adding natural sweetness to my stew. I also added bay leaf and dried rosemary now so they would get maximum infusion time. Then it simmered for 1 hour until the meat was fork tender. I regularly added more stock so my beef was always submerged. (Plus all that extra love from the stock!)

If there was one difficult thing to excel in making a stew, it’s presentation. How do I make it not look like a regular stew?  I turned to my veggies. I chose the oblique cut for the carrots for a geometrical variety preferable to stews with only cubic shapes, and it usually gets people wondering how they were cut that way. I processed parsnips the same way except double in size for, again, variety, and so that I could add them with the carrots since parsnips take much less time to cook. I wanted each vegetable to have a different color, so I opted for red-skinned potatoes. I cut them into ½ inch cubes because it’s a nice bite size and because that’s the size that would take the same amount of time to cook as my carrots. All the root vegetables went in for 10 minutes before offing the heat, at which point they were tender but not disintegrated into unidentifiable lumps, unless of course, you were making your 5-month-old some Irish stew.

I added mushrooms for extra umami…and just because I love mushrooms. I chose crimini mushrooms, again for color, and I cut them into quarters like cute little playing cards spades. But boiled mushrooms? That’s not maximizing flavor! So I seared them in butter, same technique as the beef, until they were beautifully crusted. And yes, I salted them too.

I noticed I needed extra thickening for my stew, whose smell was now triggering salivation, and I could’ve add a flour-water slurry to thicken it, fast and easy, but we’re maximizing flavor here, and that wouldn’t fit into our mission statement. So I made a brown roux by cooking equal weight of flour and butter until it darkens. I added just a little bit of stock and whisked until it was smooth and pourable, this helped it assimilate into my stew easily without lumps.

Some peas went in at the end, and after minor adjustments for salt and pepper (apparently in Ireland they use white pepper), it was done.

It was a beautiful stew, as confirmed by my Irish taster who grew up eating stew weekly in his motherland, who was also surprised by how good “just a stew” could be. Beef, tender and flavorful. Vegetables, perfectly cooked and colorful. Liquid, bold and well seasoned. No special ingredient was added–no spices or exotic herbs like when I cook Thai food, not even beer (which for some reason I thought was essential in an Irish stew), but I employed every technique I knew and made the best out of every ordinary ingredient for an extraordinary stew.

About a year ago I was faced with the task of roasting a leg of lamb in an unfamiliar kitchen. I pulled it off, barely, but we were left with a bunch of undercooked meat in the fridge that needed using the next day. A drool-inducing photo of a beef stew on the cover of that month’s Sunset Magazine caught my attention, and as soon as I had finished reading the ingredient list I knew exactly what we’d be doing with our leftovers.

This stew was a great find. I find myself coming back to it every now and then as warming soul food for a cold and lazy winter weekend. With a modification or three along the way, here’s my latest version. It’s a slow cooker, you’ll need to start this at 2 or 3pm in order to have it ready for a reasonable dinner hour. Plan on 4 hours or so from start to finish.

For the pot:

• 1½ to 2lbs of stewing lamb (a prime cut would just be a waste)

• 5 strips of thick-cut hardwood-smoked bacon

• 2 medium yellow onions

• 1 bottle dry red wine (I tend to grab the cheapest BC cab sav the liquor store has on hand)

• 1½ lbs each of yukon gold potatoes and carrots

• 2 whole chipotle peppers from a tin (without the adobo), or grind a single dried chipotle if you can’t find tins, or just use a couple of tablespoons of chipotle powder if you can’t find either

• paprika (the original recipe calls for smoked paprika, but that has proven awfully elusive so I just use normal unsmoked paprika)

• flour

• olive oil

• salt

To garnish:

• sheep’s milk feta, or even better, a light blue cheese like stilton

• chives, or green onions if not available

• pepper

You can go all mise en place and have the ingredients ready to go before you start, but the long cooking times mean a bit of prep strategy is the better choice.

Start with the lamb. Cut it into rough 1½" cubes, and trim as much fat as you can, you’re not going to need it. Turn on the stove to medium heat, and pour some oil into the bottom of a dutch oven. Get it nice and hot, then drop in a few pieces of lamb, making sure there’s a gap between each; I can fit about 8 pieces on the bottom of mine at once. Partially cover, and cook until the underside of the meat is brown and the pieces stop sticking to the bottom. Should be about 4 or 5 minutes, then flip and cook for another 3 or 4 minutes until that side’s brown too. Remove the cooked meat to a bowl (leaving the oil), and repeat until the lamb is all cooked. It’ll take 45 minutes to an hour.

Right about now, turn on your oven and get it warming up to 350F.

While you cook the last batch of lamb, chop up the bacon and onions into ½" slices. Once the lamb is all finished add the bacon to the pot. Stir every few minutes until it’s well-cooked, but not crispy. Move the bacon to the bowl, retaining the fat. Drop the onions into the pot, add a few pinches of salt, and cook until they start going soft and translucent while stirring occasionally. Remove them to the bowl as well, still retaining the oil.

As the bacon and onions cook, mix together about a quarter of a cup of flour and a teaspoon or so of paprika, and chop the chipotle peppers. When you’re done with the onions, pour the flour in the pot and slowly stir with a wooden spoon for about a minute, until the flour smells like baking pastry. Drop in the chipotles, stir and cook another minute, and then pour in the bottle of wine.

Turn the heat up to high, add the lamb, bacon and onions that were sitting in the bowl, and stir. Once the wine is boiling and the oven is ready, cover the pot and put it into the oven.

Set the clock for an hour and a half, but near the end of that time peel and chop the potatoes and carrots — the former as medium-sized chunks and the latter into thickly julienned 2" long strips. Once the timer goes, put the pot back on the stove and set it to high, drop in the vegetables and stir until the liquid is boiling again. Then put the pot back in the oven and cook uncovered until the veggies are tender. It should take about 30-45 minutes.

Now it’s time to serve. Garnish with sharp cheese and fresh green onion, the flavours contrast the stew amazingly well. Complement each bowl some buttered crusty bread for sopping up the excess liquid.

You can see the original recipe on myrecipes.com

(Makes 4 to 6 servings)

2- 1-1/2 lb domestic rabbits (de-boned and cut into serving pieces)

Marinade:
1/4 cup olive oil
2-tbsp brandy
1 white onion (diced)
2 cloves garlic (chopped)
1-tsp fennel seed (crushed)
few strands of saffron

In a bowl combine olive oil, brandy, onion, garlic, fennel seed and saffron. Place rabbit pieces in a plastic bag and set in a deep bowl and pour marinade over rabbit and seal the bag. Marinate 2-3 hours at room temperature.

Stew:
1 chopped white onion
4 medium carrots
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup snipped parsley
3-5 cloves garlic crushed
1- 28 oz can tomatoes (drained)
1/2 cup dry white wine (or red wine if you prefer)
4 medium potatoes
Salt & ground pepper (to taste)

In a large saucepan, cook onion in 2 tbsp olive oil until translucent, add the three cloves of garlic. Add drained tomatoes; simmer uncovered for five minutes. Add rabbit pieces, marinade and salt. Simmer covered 15 minutes. Add potatoes, carrots, celery and parsley. Cover & cook over low for 30 – 45 minutes (the longer it simmers, the better – but the veggies and potatoes will get softer). [note: for a little more flavour and thickness, try lightly dredging the rabbit in flour, fry some bacon and brown the onions and rabbit in the bacon fat]

Liver Sauce:
4 oz baby beef liver
2 tbsp butter
2 medium jalapeno peppers (seeded & chopped)
1 clove garlic minced (peeled & sliced)
1/4 tsp salt (to taste)
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

Meanwhile, slice liver. In a small skillet cook liver slices in butter for 3-4 minutes until medium rare. Place liver in blender with I clove garlic, jalapeno peppers and olive oil. Puree with 1/2 cup liquid from the stew pot and salt to taste. Serve stew in bowls. Drizzle the liver sauce lightly (too much liver sauce can be overpowering).