Serial ideas man Niall McKenna and his partner Joanne were busy during the lockdowns. Invisible to passersby in Hill Street, work had begun on Hadskis’ replacement: a vast former warehouse and offices transformed into a complex which now includes a cookery school, restaurant, dining rooms and event spaces.
elcome to Waterman House. The big spaces buzz to the whir of blenders, rat-tat-tat of chopping boards and hum of fan ovens in the cookery school while the sound of happy diners in next door’s high ceilinged, austere-yet-charming dining room envelopes you as you step inside.
This is one of the most unusually attractive dining rooms in Belfast.
It glows with the strict, assertive modesty of a Soviet tractor factory canteen and its occupants chatter loudly through the clattery acoustics.
The bareness is compelling and the mood of excitement, joyfulness and expectation is tangible.
The front of house staff, a team of five, manage the dining room and bar with cool and friendly elegance adding even more spark to the whole Mittel Europa vibe.
I am utterly seduced. I don’t even mind what the menu has to offer, I’m so glad to be in this room.
The menu is a surprise. There is no borscht, sauerkraut or pickled herring from the east. Instead, we head to Europe’s west and south with Carlingford oysters, mushroom arancini, English asparagus, halibut, whole roast duck and beef ragu pappardelle, among the offers.
The oysters are Dublin prices at £3.50 each but the sting is softened by the rhubarb mignonette which is a surprisingly good match, the bitter sweet rhubarb and vinegar a perfect foil for the cool, sweet and briny oysters.
Crispy squid comes with a spicy sausage ragu, both flavours and textures playing to each other’s strengths in a party on the plate.
The asparagus has the same effect, the clean green sharpness of the stems playing against the gorgeous Parisian charcuterie-style savoury cheese tart beneath.
Maybe the cause of the tiny festival at our table for two is down to the contrast between the austerity of the room and the exuberance of chef Aaron McNeice’s beautifully created dishes.
A golden butter-roasted brick of halibut comes with a deeply warming caponata with basil and tomato. Generous and simply presented it captures all the charm of quality home cooking with seriously good judgement of flavours and textures.
Every mouthful brings us closer to the end and that tinge of sadness is surely the sign of greatness.
House linguine with shellfish and seaweed butter echoes the James Street South mothership and Niall McKenna’s unforgettable crab linguine. More depth of flavour and pasta cooked a minute beyond al dente, it is another soon-to-be classic.
Even the sides are compelling: mixed leaves and seaweed pesto, pak choi with nuts and seeds, pickled organic vegetables and confit potatoes beckon.
The Waterman — so named after a leading archaeologist who worked in this building, a former Environment and Heritage office — is unique in style and mood and heralds a new approach to going out for dinner. It’s new but it draws on great examples across Europe of reliable mid-range brasseries where the food is fresh, local and prepared by skilled people who care.
This is the best thing Niall and Joanne McKenna have done so far.
The early days of James Street South had the same sense of occasion.
The historic building added charm and the McKennas didn’t overheat it with too much interior alteration.
The same respect applies here and the Waterman will become one of Belfast’s greats.