From spectacular scenery to fresh-off-the-boat seafood, Northern Ireland’s dramatic Causeway Coast is the ideal destination for an adventurous getaway. Northern Ireland’s Causeway Coast runs between the cities of Derry and Belfast and is emblematic of Northern Ireland’s reputation for outstanding rugged landscapes and pristine natural beauty. It’s named after the Giant’s Causeway — a UNESCO World Heritage Site of 40,000 interlocking basalt columns over 50 million years old.
Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge
Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge
As I cross the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, the Atlantic is thrashing brutishly below my feet, spitting streams of seawater in the air. Most people are locking their vision straight on, their eyes on the prize of firm land as they traverse a 65-foot-long chasm between the mainland and the small, seastack island off the County Antrim coast. The bridge has become an exhilarating centerpiece of Northern Ireland’s Causeway Coast, a breathtaking stretch of shoreline rich in magnificent vistas, golden beaches and postcard-pretty villages.
Now a popular tourist attraction, the rope bridge was first constructed in 1755, and was a necessity and lifeline for local salmon fishermen. It’s hard to imagine fishing from such a perilous perch where the agitated ocean bullies the stoic cliff, but in this spot’s heyday, fishermen regularly caught 300 or more salmon here daily, hauled one by one up a makeshift stairway hewn in the rock.
What’s waiting on the other side of the bridge, now reinforced with metal wire and scrupulously tested for safety, is a tranquil escape where you can gulp in the sea air and be at one with nature. There are spectacular views too, with Rathlin Island in the near distance and Scotland’s Mull of Kintyre visible on a clear day.
Portstewart Strand
Harry’s Shack in Portstewart
By this point, my appetite knows only one thing: a seafood lunch as close to the water as possible. I hop in the car and drive toward the beach, through the lovely town of Portstewart, a journey that takes me past lavishly designed homes and a sprawling golf course. I pull up at the beachfront Harry’s Shack, one of the most spectacular seafood spots in the area. It’s set right on Portstewart Strand, which is protected by the National Trust, and I’ve somehow managed to nab the prime table. A petite, two-person perch nestled into a big bay window looking out across the strand, it’s only made better by the wood-fired stove crackling nearby. In summer, the expansive canopy-covered terrace with outdoor bar naturally steals the focus.
What to order? A bowl of steamed Mulroy Bay mussels in white wine with charred leek and smoked bacon or a half lobster anointed in garlic butter with a parmesan crumb. Owner Donal Doherty offers some advice for approaching the menu. “First, we always encourage a bit of sharing and ordering for the table. Second, you have to get your hands into some shellfish like nice-sized local langoustines, whole crab arms or some freshly caught Carlingford oysters.”
Donal then pauses, almost ceremoniously, before adding: “And, third, there’s nothing like a whole fish, cooked and served on the bone, so whatever we have that day — today it’s brill, tomorrow it could be megrim or sole — that’s a must.”
Mulroy Bay Mussels
Whole fish it is, I think to myself. My chosen side is a bowl of chips (fries) — fluffy on the inside, golden and crisp on the outside — every single one dressed with plenty of salt and vinegar. I clock a mini mound of toffee pudding en route to another table, so I make a mental note to keep room for dessert.
“In 21 years of being a restaurateur, the single best thing I ever did was foster a connection to the boats at Greencastle, our nearest harbor,” Donal tells me, pointing across the water, to the far side of Lough Foyle. For the last decade, he’s been buying seafood directly from the same boats and serving it straight up here at Harry’s Shack, which is named after his late father.
“Them calling me with what they’ve caught before they land and offering first choice, it’s the most brilliant relationship I have. All I did was bring that relationship to the most perfect location for it — so you’re eating while looking out to exactly where the fish was caught,” he adds.
I make short work of the whole brill, ditto the pudding — both washed down with local beer from craft brewery Kinnegar. Afterward, I head to Portstewart Strand, take off my shoes and go for an hour-long stroll by the water. As I do, I think about just how welcoming everyone is here — a special type of hospitality that feels unique to this part of the world.
Fish skin crackling at Lir restaurant
Norn Iron’ Hospitality
Everyone I meet, from the barista at Babushka Cafe on Portrush Pier to the manager of Morelli’s, a famed family-run ice cream parlor two streets away, is effusive in their love for their region. Among them is Nicola Neill, who runs the luxuriously styled boutique bolthole Blackrock House. It’s perched high above the town of Portrush with beautiful coastal views and makes for the ideal place to rest your head after a long day of exploring.
Locally sourced dishes here include fresh crab meat stirred through slow-cooked, soft and golden scrambled eggs served with traditional Northern Irish wheaten bread. It’s no real surprise, given the proximity to the sea, that seafood and shellfish punctuates many menus in this region.
“Despite living two minutes from the sea, I could barely source any fish locally 10 years ago” says Paula McIntyre, an author, broadcaster and champion of Causeway Coast produce.
“There’s been a seismic change since then, in particular led by Harry’s Shack in Portstewart, which put locally caught lobster on the menu when 95% of it was exported. More recently, there’s Lir in Coleraine — fishmongers first and foremost — whose ethos for their restaurant is sustainably sourced fish and zero waste,” she adds. And with that, I know exactly where I’m having my dinner.
Later that evening, I steal a few moments ahead of a busy evening service with Lir’s owners, husband-and-wife Stevie and Rebekah McCarry. Their fish restaurant opened in Coleraine Yacht Club in the midst of the pandemic, and has quickly become an acclaimed dining destination for a tide-to-table tasting menu.
Talk at the table quickly zones in on the ongoing discussion within the Irish food scene — how little fish and seafood is eaten here contrasted with how much is exported. It’s a phenomenon that frustrated the couple and fueled their mores — their restaurant is as much about connecting with diners and educating them around fish seasonality, cookery and waste as it is serving delicious dishes with warm “Norn Iron” hospitality.
“We can get incredible lobster here but so many locals, you wouldn’t believe, have never eaten lobster and write it off as too expensive,” Stevie explains. “But when you break it down and demonstrate how to use the meat in one dish, the claws in another, the shells in another, suddenly a lobster becomes more affordable.”
The nose-to-tail approach of using every part of the animal is Lir’s approach to fish. “If I was opening up a steak restaurant tomorrow, I would want a butchery alongside, to take the customer through the entire journey of the product,” declares Stevie, who is also head chef. “And people know the freshness and quality of the wild and sustainably sourced fish we get so there is that level of trust there.”
Lir is a lens on seafood, which is there to encourage diners but also to challenge them. One signature item on the menu perfectly fuses the familiar with the unexpected: a monkfish sausage roll with cross-laminated pastry, served with the restaurant’s own fermented sriracha. It’s a simple yet show-stopping seaside twist on a classic deli counter staple.
The following day, I face my last fish supper. It had to be haddock and chips from the seaside stalwart Morton’s in Ballycastle, run by the same family for over a century. I sit on the wall by the water, locked in a standoff with a colony of seagulls ready to dive-bomb at a moment’s notice, just as a trawler returns to the harbor. I watch as the fishers unload their catch and consider all the plates set to be appointed with this bounty over the next few hours. How lucky those future diners will be, I think to myself, while taking a last glance at this captivating coastline.
By Patrick Hanlon
