Amai by Viktor

What do we need to know about Amai by Viktor?

This one caught us on the hop. Usually when a new restaurant cooking at this level opens, especially one metres from Grafton Street, there's a lot of build up. A chef makes their name in one restaurant, gets backing to go out on their own, a PR company is hired and we're subjected to months of teasers before actually getting to eat anything. Up until a few weeks ago we had never heard of Viktor Silva, eaten his food (we think), or had any idea there was this serious a contender en route to the capital's restaurant roster.

Amai by Viktor is a partnership between the chef and the owners of The Corkscrew downstairs on Harry Street (facing The Westbury, what a location). After the wine shop's last partnership with Sicilian restaurant Amuri, who they installed upstairs in their old location on Chatham Street, we're starting to think these guys could have an alternative career in spotting the next big thing in food. Silva's last position was as head chef in Amuri, and he's also worked in Bang, on events with Jordan and Maiken Bailey, and staged in multi-Michelin starred restaurants like L'Enclume.

He grew up Brazil's favelas (scenes from which he's hand drawn on one of the dining room walls), and says the idea for Amai developed during the pandemic, when he was thinking about his family, identity and legacy. His grandparents were unable to read or write, and survived by cooking food which Silva's parents then sold in the city. Their sacrifices and "meals full of love" started his passion for cooking. Amai means "mother" in Shona (an African language and part of his heritage) and “to love” in Portuguese, and the chef says it's a tribute to the women who raised him.

What table should we ask for?

This is a beautiful old room (it used to be a shoe shop!) that's gotten the fit out it deserves, with comfortable, elegant seating, and Brazilian touches throughout - Silva's aunt's paintings are dotted around the room; a cavaco banjo hangs on the wall; a large black mural of an African woman covers the wall that greets you as you climb the stairs (painted by the chef).

There are hanging florals, a parquet floor, a timber-lined bar with a swirling green marble countertop, rich dark wood and terracotta cushions on a creamy backdrop - it's a joy to take in, light flooding the room from those old sash windows.

The best seats however are the two tables for two at the windows. On a muggy summer evening in Dublin it felt like having our own personal wind machine, the loveliest breeze drifting in through the window. Add to that the 10/10 people watching below (including right into The Westbury's lounge) and these aren't just the best seats in the restaurant, they're some of the best in the city.

What's the menu like?

It's a tasting menu only for €79 with no options (but they'll happily accommodate dietary requirements, just give them notice please).

Snacks first. A thickly crusted croquette with a rich feijoada interior (the famous Brazilian bean stew), animated by orange and nam jim on top. A smoky yucca (starchy root veg common in Brazil), egg and Gubbeen custard with lardo powder on top - dig deep for sweet and tangy black garlic underneath and scoop it up onto a crunchy tapioca cracker. A foie gras, coffee and açai (actual berries, not smoothie slush) tart that looked and tasted like it had come by taxi from Chapter One. If you weren't paying attention before, this opening salvo will have you correcting your posture.

The statement cooking continues with barbecued ochra (a vegetable native to Africa but popular in Brazilian cooking), sitting on a ring of Ardsallagh Goats Cheese, with candied strawberries, nasturtium leaves and puffed rice. Watermelon gazpacho is poured in at the table, along with mint oil and fermented tomato honey (made in house, obvs). Getting your greens is rarely this exciting.

Fennel brioche is a wow moment (the same way Jordan Bailey's brown soda bread course at Aimsir was), corn-cultured butter moulded into the shape of a corn cob. Tear open the sweet, fragrant bread topped with salty crystals and lather it on. This is not the stuff for scraping or scooping, this is bread that needs its own moment.

Monkfish is next, and Silva's take on the Brazilian fish stew moqueca, with red pepper, coriander, coconut milk and red palm oil. The frothy top hides a deep red sauce underneath that you'll be using your fingers to scrape from the bowl, and the firm, meaty fish was needed for all that tang and spice.

We're always surprised to see beef on menus these days with prices out of control, but it is synonymous with Brazil. AGM Mariana told us this dish represents the churrascos in her and Silva's home town of Porto Alegre, where meat is cooked over an open flame, but like everything else it's levelled up with vinaigrette (our favourite salsa-like Brazilian condiment), a rich jus, and a long wafer filled with potato salad.

Smoky short-rib to the side, so tender you could eat it with a spoon, was the best thing about this plate, with the striploin too firm and the "jus bras" slightly too salty. Why are tasting menus "mains" always the least exciting part of a menu? We're still waiting on that restaurant with a tasting menu of just snacks.

The culinary sparkle was back with a dessert of mango sorbet, mango pieces, lime, polenta cake, camomile infusion, and vanilla caramel tuille with bee pollen. Got all that? You will once it's swimming around your mouth, every flavour holding its own.

A tenacious chef ends a menu with the same strong statement they started it with. A blow-torched lemon meringue tart; a banana caramel choux; a Capirinha pâte de fruits. Three perfect bites, ideally paired with a decaf espresso (10/10), and you'll float happily off into the night.

What about drinks?

Being the national drink of Brazil, you've got to try a Caipirinha (€16) - this is the best one we've had outside of Rio de Janeiro, and just LOOK at those custom ice cubes (there are more than a few Michelin-worthy touches here). They don't have mocktails on the list but delivered a beauty of a mango one with N/A gin on request.

The wines are coming through The Corkscrew downstairs, with Drappier the house Champagne at €22 a glass. Bottles start at €41/€43 for basic white and red, with the more interesting producers starting from €50-60. You'll find something you like here, but we would have liked to see some more exciting, off-beat choices, and they've gone high with margins - the same wines (like Pieropan's Soave) are available in other Dublin restaurants for a good 10% less. Must be the Grafton Street tax.

Glasses are also 175ml which is large for this type of restaurant, so expect sticker shock looking at a glass of Portugese Dao for €20, or an Italian rosé for €17.

How was the service?

They posted on Instagram that what they hope makes them stand out is their "warm, welcoming spirit—that rare quality both Brazilian and Irish cultures share. The genuine kindness, generosity, and love for making people feel at home that's fundamental to who we are."

That statement of purpose sums up our experience here, and the generosity that flowed from arrival to departure. From the broad welcomes on arrival, to the offer of any table we'd like, to the generosity of time chatting and explaining more about the food and concept, to the offer of any drink you want on the house to end your meal (what a novelty!), it's like sitting through a crash course in what it means to be "hospitable".

What was the damage?

The tasting menu is €79, and if you go all in on cocktails, wine and coffee you'll easily spend €150 a head after tip. We considered that money well spent.

What's the verdict on Amai by Viktor?

Dublin is on a hell of a roll right now. 2025 has already brought us Lena, Comet and Chubbys, all operating at the very top of their game, and now Amai by Viktor has swooped in as a challenger to the best of them.

We said Comet was bringing something unique to Dublin that didn't exist elsewhere - now here's another player a couple of streets over doing exactly that. Brazilian food has never had a showcase at this level of cooking in Ireland, and it's clear from the first few bites that this is a chef with an obsessive focus, who's pushing harder every day (just look at Google reviews to see how the plating has developed over the first few weeks).

Take our advice - book Amai by Viktor now before the Michelin men and national critics write about how impressive, unique and exciting it is, and those window seats become a lot harder to secure.