I suppose that when things were still riding high and Shebeen Cuisine was conceived it must have seemed like a great, witty, post-modern idea. Now, though, that the emperor has been shown to have no clothes, the effect of the mismatched chairs, the toilet seats arranged artfully on the walls and the washing hanging from lines across the ceiling is nothing so much as schoolboy juvenile. The floor in Shebeen Cuisine may well be clean enough to eat off but the place feels grubby, even if it isn't – it's a joke that has gone a step too far. The ambience – it has the feel of a student bar – combined with the prices makes it feel like someone is taking the piss.

We were three mammies on a post-theatre foray, and my dates – let's call them Hockey Mammy (always wears lipstick) and Cork Mammy – had been instructed to order adventurously. As it turned out, I needn't have bothered – much of what appeared on the menu just wasn't available. There was no big shrimp cocktail with avocado (€11), no pot of mussels just bursting (€6.49), no lambs kidneys, mushrooms and leeks with grain mustard (€7.49). "Too dangerous," said our waitress, enigmatically, later explaining that they were in the throes of re-vamping the menu because some of the original offaly dishes were not popular with the
customers.

Cork Mammy bravely volunteered for crubeens with pickled cauliflower (€6.49). They were quite vile – deep-fried fat and gristle. I know – what were we expecting? Hockey Mammy did well with cold duck terrine & smoked breast & paté (€7.49) and my six Castletownbere oysters (€8.99) were just dandy.

I scoured the menu in vain for the ox cheek that I'd heard was the
signature dish. Our waitress told me later that it is there, it's just not called ox cheek anymore because people weren't ordering it – it's now called beef stewed in Smithwicks with carrots (€14.49). Instead I went for the guinea fowl with foie gras veloute (€25). Any foie gras that might have been there was entirely overwhelmed by a heavy hand with the tarragon. The bird was tasty enough but it was a one-note dish, and boring as a result. Lamb shank on mash with mint gravy (€17) was a good, tasty, substantial plate. Bacon & cabbage with thyme looked ignorant – a big heap of food with far too many potatoes piled into a soup dish – but tasted good. Duck fat chips and Shebeen ketchup ("I'd prefer Heinz myself," said Hockey Mammy) were predictably fabulous.

We shared a fine rhubarb crumble, accompanied by the "Best Ice Cream in the Republic" (from France), (€5.49) and a cheese board (€9.99) which, apart from some under-ripe Gubbeen, was fine.

We mammies are, of course, not the clientele that Jay Bourke is after at Shebeen Cuisine – and perhaps that's it; we were just not cool enough to appreciate the cleverness
of the concept.

Chef Seamus O'Connell, of the Ivory Tower in Cork, who set up the restaurant, has headed back down south. According to the waitress, his replacement is from Mauritius. "Or
perhaps it's the
Maldives," she said. "Or Moldova. One of those places."

Dinner for three including two bottles of wine – an indifferent pinotage and an
organic crianza (both €29) – came to €164.94 to which we added €25 for friendly and well-intentioned but rather hopeless service. Shebeen Cuisine does not take credit or debit cards – it's a cash-only operation.

"If my husband said he was taking me out for dinner and we arrived here," said Hockey Mammy as we were leaving, "I'd beat him up."

Shebeen Cuisine

4 South Great George's Street,

Dublin 2

Tel: 085 1186108

Rating: 2/5