Strandhill Public raises the bar in Brandon with contemporary takes on Irish classics

It took weeks to decide what to put in the shepherd’s pie.

Lamb is the more traditional choice, but it felt riskier, and sourcing the meat could be difficult. Should they make it with beef instead, although that would technically make it a cottage pie? What would the guests prefer?

“‘Beef or lamb? Beef or lamb?’ We went on like this forever,” said Rory Martin, the owner of Strandhill Public, a new Irish restaurant and pub on Causeway Boulevard in Brandon.

Eventually, Martin went with the lamb, “to keep it traditional.” Though the choice might seem trivial, it’s at the heart of the operation here — a restaurant and bar that seeks to pay homage to a time-tested genre with contemporary takes on tavern classics.

Plenty of us have an affinity for Irish pubs. There’s the structure and soundness of them, and the comfort of their uniformity, no matter the location. They can feel like a familiar face in trying times, a place where one can commiserate just as well as celebrate, and always in the company of others and a pint or two.

With clean lines, a long, dark wooden bar and nary a shamrock in sight, Strandhill Public manages to re-create a classic tavern setting while still imbuing a light, airy and modern feel to the space.

For Martin, the place is a tribute to home: He grew up above the pub his parents ran in Sligo, Ireland, where his father taught him how to pour his first Guinness at the age of 12. The restaurant’s name is a reference to the small beach village on Ireland’s northwest coast where Martin learned how to surf.

When designing the menu, Martin — the former director of operations at downtown Tampa’s CW’s Gin Joint and owner of several New York restaurants — and his business partner Sharon Gaumond tapped chef Susan Burdian (another New York expat) to create a classic list of elevated tavern fare. The last word came from Martin’s mother, who by phone went over each recipe before the menu received its final sendoff.

That shepherd’s pie ($16) is delicious: Chock-full of stewed lamb, carrots and celery, the medley comes nestled under a cloudy puff of buttery mashed potatoes topped with crispy-fried shallots and chives.

A starter of smoked ricotta and heirloom tomatoes ($12) is served with crispy hunks of toasted ciabatta, and the creamy wisps of fresh cheese pair beautifully with juicy tomatoes and a nutty basil and pistachio pesto, while red wine-braised figs provide a sweet, autumnal touch. Though a dish like this feels more in line with a New American tone, the kitchen never strays too far from its focus. And while a salad of panko-fried oyster mushrooms ($13) might seem avant-garde in a pub setting, the super-sized version of a Scotch egg (called an Irish egg here) feels right at home.

Scotch eggs are traditionally hard-boiled, but this egg ($8) is one of those jammy six-minute versions and comes encased in a wrapper of ground pork and panko before hitting the fryer until it’s dark golden and crunchy. The whole thing is plated atop strips of lightly pickled red peppers and a smooth hollandaise, which carries a subtle heat.

As for the mushroom salad, I can’t attest to how it measures up: Both nights I dined here the dish wasn’t available.

Any pub worth its weight will serve a decent fish and chips, and the one offered here is quite solid. Two large fillets of cod are beer-battered and fried, enveloped in a light golden crust that’s airy and gives way to tender hunks of flaky white fish ($14). It’s served with a creamy tartar sauce, charred lemon wedges and a light slaw of red and white cabbage in which plump raisins offer a sweet surprise. Malt vinegar fans searching frantically for your fix: Don’t fret, it’s there, you just have to ask.