Ever heard of the David Cronenberg syndrome?
It goes like this. There are two guys in a room. One is dressed wildly, tattooed, pierced, and belligerent. The other is sober, dressed like an accountant, cleanly shaven, and quietly spoken.
The latter is the one to watch. He is the guy who will make movies like The Fly, or Crash, or the eerie Dead Ringers. Watch the quiet guys. Ray Byrne is one of those quiet guys.
Quiet he may be, but we shouldn't be surprised that he has become a major player in Irish food, for he has the determination, the vision, that mark out seemingly everyday guys like Cronenberg. But his quiet character blindsides you when you met him first, and it is only later that you find the drive, the talent, the people skills, the originality, the persistence. He keeps them hidden, as if in a briefcase. And then you think you have the measure of him, but actually you don't. Like the best players, he's always at least a step ahead.
We met him first when he operated The Castle Pantry in Tyrellspass, and he was doing good things then, but just shaping up. In 1994, we described Wineport, his waterside restaurant with rooms near to Glasson in County Westmeath, as “a democratic ideal”. For once we were right, for Byrne sees restaurants as places for everyone, and it is his brilliance to create spaces where everyone feels comfortable, whether in his own Wineport, or in the places where he acts as consultant. Aside from running Wineport as a beacon of the Midlands, he has served on several representative bodies – he is a player, and a politician, and one of those quiet guys.