Comet

What's the 411 on Comet?

The prodigal chef returns home from Denmark with a grá to settle at home and dreams of achieving big things on home turf. Wexford-born Kevin O’Donnell came up through the ranks of Dublin dining, working at Bastible and Klaw, before decamping to Copenhagen and achieving very big things.

Gaining a job at two Michelin-starred Kadeau, he worked his way up to head chef at Kadeau's summer beachside outpost Bornholm (which has one Michelin star), before being appointed head of research, development and "special stuff" across both restaurants, which doesn’t happen without a lot of talent and an equal amount of graft. O’Donnell’s now wife Laura Chabal also worked at Kadeau as Communications Manager, but the couple, like most in hospitality, dreamt about what they could create on their own, and Ireland was calling.

They moved home in 2024 and started testing the water with their Comet supper club, which had a few run outs at the Fumbally Stables, as well as doing some private catering while they figured out a plan. That plan was hatched with old employers Bastible, who came on board to back Comet the restaurant.

Remember La Ruelle, the wine bar behind what's now Pablo Picante on Dawson Street? The wine list (or room) was never our vibe, so we can't say we were heartbroken to see them go. The site though on Joshua Lane (named after Joshua Dawson who sold the land it sits on to Dublin corporation for £3,500 in 1715) has the most central of locations, and despite a lack of passing trade, we were surprised to see it sat empty since last year – until Comet swooped in to turn on the lights back on.

What table should we be asking for?

If you're a table of six (or maybe less depending on how busy they are) you'll want the oval table in the window - the only one with decent natural light and the perfect shape for group conversations. Thankfully acoustics in here are better than the lighting - be aware that if you bring that older person in your life who wears reading glasses they will complain about needing a torch to see the menu.

Otherwise the room is roughly split in two by a room divider on the left and the bar counter on the right, with natural light diminishing the further back you go, but a mirror cleverly installed on the back wall to combat this. We generally like to be at the front and have a better view of the whole room, but if you're meeting someone to conduct an illicit affair, ask for a corner in the back, or just behind that divider.

What's the menu like?

A genuinely original (for Dublin), European bistro-style, love letter to local sourcing, pickling, smoking, fermenting and doing very clever things to get the maximum possible flavour from very lovely ingredients - no BS included. Start with the "Comet" aperitif while deciding what to order - the white vermouth on ice with a guindilla chilli pepper and a dash of the brine mixed through is an electric opener, and the perfect signature serve.

There’s a “4-course carte blanche” option for €78, but it’s a bit confusing as to exactly what you’ll get. They told us two snacks, two starters, a fish course each (red mullet instead of the pollock on the menu), a main to share, and two desserts, but it’s all a surprise, and with no details of what’s on there it’s impossible to know whether it’s better or worse value than ordering à la carte, which is what we ended up doing.

Don't pass on olives and pickles (€8) thinking you've had them a million times - not like this you haven't. Warm olives arrive so smooth and glistening in olive oil (the really good stuff) you can almost see your reflection in them. A unique assortment of pickled gooseberries, artichoke, asparagus, and onion sit beside them, and between the rich olives and tangy pickles it's a mini flavour riot.

Anchovy and meyer lemon toast came next, covered in a sorrel leaf which we struggled to see the point of (other than the fun of lifting it up to see what's underneath). This one needs a chilli warning - that heat wasn't mentioned on the menu - and while those mink brown anchovies are in our all time top food lists, we didn't love this enough to think about it much afterwards (especially for the €9 price tag).

Onto starters/small plates, and a smoked pork cheek and black kale skewer (€22) arrived concertina-style in the most perfect rectangle. The pork, from Fiorbhia Farm in Laois is cured in shio koji (here's an explainer), hot smoked, then glazed with pork fat, collatura (an Italian fish sauce made from anchovies) and fermented habanero. The tangy, earthy kale up against the ultra-thin smoky pork, dragged through the toasted yeast emulsion on the side makes for a dish where the above average price tag is easily justified.

"Peas, broad beans and pistachio" wouldn't have been on our order sheet if owner Chabal hadn't told us it was her favourite, and gosh were we glad we listened. Peas and beans from Abercorn Farm and Castleruddery in Wicklow tasted like they'd been plucked from the ground moments earlier, podded by nuns who yodelled as they worked. Tossed through with pistashio and fermented plum, and sitting on a puddle of crème crue (another name for crème fraîche), this is the kind of dish you want to never come off the menu, but you know it has to – that’s what makes seasonal eating so special.

When you get to mains DO NOT look past the quail on toast - currently a top contender for the best thing we've eaten in 2025 (or ever?). French quails are deboned, given a sweet Asian glaze (confit garlic, cider vinegar, soy), stuffed with leeks, melded to homemade sourdough, and sat in a pool of Vin Jaune sauce – this is gamebird witchcraft and we were suitably spellbound. You might start off with a knife and fork, but a few bites in and you'll be making a show of yourself gnawing every last sliver of meat from the remaining bones - a finger bowl would be handy. If we don't see this on the Michelin Inspector's dishes of the month some time soon we'll be questioning whether they know what they’re talking about.

The fish dish was pollock cooked in beef fat (ooooof for us, controversial for pescatarians) served with girolles and toasted hazelnuts, in a buttery sauce made with the mushroom cooking liquid and fermented white asparagus juice. Anything sitting side by side with that quail is going to pale in comparison, but the mouthfuls where you got a bit of everything were pretty special. As fish dishes go, this isn't light, and those (crazy people) who don’t like too much butter may want to pick something a bit less rich.

Pommes boulangère usually looks like more like a gratin than a potato rose, but we prefer this version. Cooked in chicken stock and so soft that a knife glides from top to bottom of the waxy potato stripes, it tasted like the best Christmas potatoes, without veering into carbocide territory. Yet another impressive kitchen turn.

In too many bistro set ups like this, desserts are an obvious afterthought. Something spoonable, something freezable, always simple and negating the need for a pastry chef. So Comet's three options plus an out of the box cheese course is more cause for applause.

We usually skip the cheese course - we eat enough of it at home for a fraction of the price, why bother with the premium restaurant surcharge - but Comet is where habits will be broken. Are we going to cook the softest warm oat pancake as a base, make a marmalade-from Cedrat, an ancient citrus fruit imported from France, and generously shave nutty, caramel, crystal-flecked Coolea (an Irish gouda-style cheese) over the top? No we are not. We're good, but we're not that good. This is that good.

A fig and brown sugar tartlet had the kind of ultra-short, crumbly, cocoa-filled pastry that only the most skilled Granny can produce. Filled with slices of ripe fig and topped with a silky, coffee crème diplomat (there’s cold-infused coffee oil in the crème), it's the kind of thing you could imagine Cedric Grolet serving you after a Parisian pilgrimage, while you tell yourself it’s a perfectly acceptable breakfast alongside a Café au Lait – fruit and coffee = breakfast.

What about drinks?

This is a wine venue - there's a few aperitifs and some NA options but no beer or spirits as we type. There's a short, sharp by the glass list, with a single sparkling and rosé, three each of white and red, and a couple of dessert options. It's considerably cheaper to drink the same wines by the bottle, with small glasses (125ml) at a premium price, so you will pay more for variety.

There are no bad choices on this list - everything's been carefully chosen to take up a treasured slot, and the minimal intervention lean in much of the bottles is the perfect fit for the thoughtfully prepared food. If you tend to stick to the more common grapes and are unsure which of the by the glass options you might like, ask for a taste. And if you're in the wine drinking big leagues (and/or the salary big leagues) ask for the cellar wine list (also online). This is the kind of starry-eyed selection we’re more used to seeing in London or Paris, and this alone will draw a very specific type of diner (the type we’d really like to be friends with).

How was the service?

With two owners on the floor, and with us getting clocked immediately, it was never going to be anything but lovely. Dishes arrived with perfect timing, and we weren’t rushed off the table afterwards (this will depend on whether there’s a booking after you though). If Chabal is on the floor try to grab her for food and wine recommendations. There’s nothing quite like getting your hands on the person whose passion project you’re watching unfold.

What's the financial committment?

Comet has placed itself in the upper tier of Dublin pricing, in line with Library Street, Kicky’s, Uno Mas, and with the extreme amount of work to extract maximum flavour in the kitchen, it couldn’t be any other way. There’s no doubt the Michelin inspectors will be sitting down to dinner soon, and it’s hard to imagine a chef who’s coming from a multi-starred stable not wanting to get one on his own terms. While the prices might mean this is special occasion territory for most people, they won't care too much if it’s worth it. We paid €125 per person for a snack, starter, main, dessert/cheese, and four drinks each (including an aperitif and coffee), before tip, and we’d pay it again, and again.

What's the verdict on Comet?

It’s always hard to make big statements after just one meal, but here we go anyway. Comet, is the most exciting, original opening in Dublin this year (and we might include 2024 in that too). Maybe someone will say restaurants like this are 10 a penny in Copenhagen, maybe nothing is really original any more, but looking at the existing landscape of Dublin dining , Comet has landed with something entirely different.

This is such confident cooking, sourcing only the best and fusing it with bold flavours developed through time-intensive methods. This is a team on a mission, with no evidence of fumbling or second-guessing themselves (maybe they’re hiding it well). There’s no hint of bean-counting or cost-cutting either, but you’ll pay for this kind of investment in flavour, and we suggest you do before word spreads and those 30 or so seats become perpetually booked up.