Pensons at The Netherwood Estate

Lunch for two

July 14 2022

Here again after our lunch in October 2021. I’ll be brutal. That meal was not up to the standard of this one. Ah, no, don’t misunderstand me. My glowing review of our first meal still stands. It’s just that, taking both subjective and reasonably educated opinions into account, the Pensons team appears to have further considered the boundaries of hospitality and smashed it out of the park where the delivery of great food and service is concerned. Some of you will have already discarded me on the grounds of those mixed cricket and baseball metaphors. Still resolute enough to have my more detailed lowdown? Read on.

I ended my previous review with mention of the bread. Let’s kick off with it this time.

The small, perfectly formed ‘Signature Loaf’ generates two immediate responses beyond simple appreciation of what a truly splendid thing it is. Polite coughing with occasional instances of mild choking is induced by any unwary intake of the toasted flour topping. And those who have failed to protect clothing with suitably placed napkins are left with traces of a fine powder which is easily mistaken for evidence of a recent toilet visit involving hard drugs.
A generous, if reluctant desire to fairly share out the yeast butter should help to focus back on this accomplished and honest offering. It is the first example of a string of menu items which are confidently delivered - all having been refined to a point where improvement is hard to imagine.

The website menus are liable to change according to Chef’s sympathetic reactions to available ingredients but this is the exact lunch menu we were offered on the day. We each chose the same starter, main and dessert.

The wine list is perfectly fine. Its prime attraction is its concise coverage of all major bases needed to complement the food on offer and to broadly satisfy the majority of styles with which guests are familiar. Our Rhone white from Tardieu-Laurent injected a nice addition to our drinking experiences with its show of restrained flavour profiles. The fact that they lingered for so long in the mouth was testament to the winemaker’s care.
Current sommelier, Jade*, has plentiful knowledge to give suggestion and inspiration if you find yourself floundering.
*Yes, Jade - it turns out I am a bit of a silly bugger. My attempt to correct the appelation of your Mabileau wine was based on confused memories of our visit to the vineyard over a decade ago. I was oh-so close but oh-so wrong. My public apologies to you!

Starter

My dining partner has been alongside me for a number of years which approach biblical proportion. Let’s just say well over forty days and forty nights. For positional accuracy, this particular day saw Mrs Cheoff opposite me. Which meant that I had the perfect view of her reaction to our carrot starter. Meg Ryan was faking it at Katz's Delicatessen. My wife managed quietly but insistently to convey a similar message during and after the eating of this ‘spiced carrot’. Quiet and insistent but, in this instance, totally and unmistakably genuine.
A cheeky request for the recipe was met without fuss. I will enjoy interpreting chef’s ideas in my own kitchen but I know that for the real deal of perfect expression a return visit must be arranged.

Main

Our starter gave a nod to Middle Eastern flavours. The fish headed west and beached on the coastline of any southern French port or resort, big or small. We are in the midst of a heatwave as I write this. In the cool of the restaurant the kitchen grabbed hold of the Mediterranean and arranged its iconic flavours in a superb dish. Alchemists in the kitchen brought sunshine to our table with this course.
Fruity, soft, garlicky tomatoes and charred aubergine. Olive oil lightening the hollandaise. Even in the absence of butter this was still a gloriously rich dish. A perfect balance came from acidic tomato juice and peppery but bright watercress.

It seems almost silly to add that the bream was beautifully cooked.

Dessert

Cherries, chocolate custard, almond crumb, cherry sorbet, muscovado tuile and a dusting of sour cherry powder. This had been on the menu for just two days - praise the stars we hadn’t booked earlier!
Black Forest gâteau without the cream and booze? Maybe so. A dessert to provide a fitting conclusion to previous excellence? Definitely so.

Eton Mess - well, half-eaten mess!

We were given a viewing of the compact and attractive suites which are available on site. Well worth considering for the fuller evening menu and an overnight stay. Before leaving we headed for the inspiring kitchen garden which we had stupidly missed the previous October.

And before leaving here, I must repeat our heartfelt thanks to all the teams at Pensons and the whole Netherwood Estate. It was reassuring to see familiar faces and delightful to see how new ones have fitted seamlessly into the mix. You are all helping to create what is a brilliant cut gem of hospitality.

Below is my modified review for Tripadvisor

Pensons

Lunch for two

October 14 2021

From greetings to goodbyes this proved to be a concentration of all that hospitality does best. Truly accomplished food prepared and presented by truly accomplished people instigated at least one daft question - what on earth had we done to deserve such a treat!

The lunch menu will not offer you confusion. It is confidently pared down to two choices each for starter, main and dessert. Dinner will offer five of the same courses; but see the website Menu page to understand how Head Chef Chris Simpson and team will react according to seasonal availability and modify to your dietary needs except for any vegan option. Produce from the Netherwood Estate underpins and inspires so much here. In the short time since opening, the restaurant and estate have developed an admirably responsive and responsible community.

Service here is exemplary. Front of house manager Jim Conway has an impressive CV in hospitality but his gentle, assured talents were equalled in other ways by his team. All of them suffer from an embarrassment of riches in the area of conventional good looks but they also have a lovely surfeit of those much more important qualities which complete any restaurant experience. A total understanding of what they bring from the kitchen means that questions about detail of the dishes are answered with immediate ease. Their skill to react with intelligence and affability to a silly bugger like me was particularly commendable.

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SCALLOP, Celeriac, Chicory Jam, Fennel, Onion, Chilli

Mrs Cheoff didn’t flinch at all when her chosen starter arrived. ‘Raw’ scallops would have presented a challenge in years gone by but here she was in the hands of a kitchen whose confidence is apparent in each dish. I don’t know if there was any curing of the main ingredient but it retained wonderful freshness. Level of chilli heat was perfect and the different textures ensured interest to the last bite.

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MUSHROOM, Truffle, Hazelnut, Artichoke, Sourdough

My starter was designed and delivered with so much care that I spent a few moments digesting with just my eyes. Clever, spot-on treatment of ingredients which ask to be put together. Softness, crunch, mushrooms (beech and enoki? - no, I didn’t ask enough questions), a touch of acidity and the smile-inducing presence of indulgent truffle. When all those main elements were gone, like the finish of a good wine, I was left with the lovely flavour and mouthfeel of a very classy rapeseed oil used in the dressing.

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SOURDOUGH - a fork dealt with the more fluid elements of my mushroom starter but this ‘Melba Toast’ with knobs on was still a very welcome addition

Our main course varied from the website’s ‘Sample Menu’ with damsons replacing cherries. “Yay” for seasonal ingredients! The duck meat was meltingly right and the skin painstakingly scored and rendered crisp. Even more crunch came from the brick pastry casing folded around the leg meat. Enough fat to create the same texture as crispy chicken - erm, duck - skin. More prosaic, soft cabbage gave its familiar reassurance. Then beetroot and damson offered fruit, earthiness and a dulled acidity. The squeak of spring onions and their liquid release completed a mini triumph which sauntered between fading summer and the insistence of autumn harvest.

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DUCK, Damson, Beetroot, Cabbage Fish will have to wait until next time!

John Duval Wines ‘Plexus’ Marsanne Roussanne Viognier 2018

We could have relied on a recommendation from our sommelier but Mrs C had already identified a style we like on the list. The same blend of grapes as many more familiar (to us, at least) Southern Rhône whites but made on the other side of the world in Australia. And made by a winemaker with a rather special pedigree. We really enjoyed this complex but surprisingly fresh wine. It couldn’t distract us completely from the quality of food but it did add another welcome element to our ‘Pensons’ experience.

Do allow yourself to be at least a little distracted by the design and ambience of the restaurant building itself. It is curated in part from local archaeological evidence and examples of equally ancient crafts maintained and produced by modern-day artists.

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BLACKBERRIES, Pear, Lemon, Almond, Cider

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BLACKBERRIES, Pear, Lemon, Almond, Cider (dressed with the cider granita)

Time for the last act. We both made the same choice of dessert rather than cheese. Nothing to regret about that decision. Cool temperatures here but the lack of physical warmth was replaced by a little virtual hug from each ingredient. Blackberries were cleverly poached to bring out more flavour but with the care to leave them as firm as freshly picked. Fluid gels and jellies vibed on the hedgerow fruit and crunch came from both the almond biscuit and a mildly resistant pear. Initially hidden lemon mousse was fluffy and just as it should be - lemony. The cider granita melted into another reminder of the bounty from the estate.

Bells and whistles come as standard here. You’ll certainly find adventure and creativity. But come to Pensons for what really matters - craftsmanship cooking of the highest order delivering food which is achingly honest and utterly delicious.

The first three pictures below will link to Pensons Instagram account where you’ll find plentiful photographs by David Loftus as well as the chance to explore some of the team who are ‘tagged’ in posts. Be prepared to survive on just my final butter photo if I have crossed any copyright boundaries!

Signature Bread - Not baked

Signature Bread - Baked

Signature Bread - with Yeast Butter

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Our Yeast Butter - after we had begun to ‘investigate’

Can’t end this without giving the bread its must mention. The eggshell crust is close to puffball Turkish lavaş but instead of a hollow centre there is a light crumb of white bread. You’ll find greater variety in some restaurant’s bread baskets but here is a sensible approach to make something well and then to repeat doing it so well that it becomes a familiar and reliable companion to your meal.

We furrowed our brows at the silly 12.5% discretionary service charge and added a little more to reflect our gratitude for a great meal. I can’t imagine any guest being unwilling to pay generously for every minute and every mouthful of the wonderful experience which we enjoyed.

Thank you to all the fabulous Pensons team.

You managed to read as far as this? I’m guessing you took a short break to look up dates for your own meal. If not, here is the link you need to make a booking!

New Year's Day Lunch 2020

A ‘grown-up’ meal for four. Well - three grown-ups and me.

Mum was still with us after celebrating Christmas, the end of a '“bumpy year”* and the start of 2020. She is most fond of pheasant and this recipe was always planned in her honour as my first cooking foray of the new year. A treasured neighbour joined us after confirming that her invitations to family and friends elsewhere had petered out.

Not content with ‘meat and two veg’ I decided to augment with a mushroom sauce from this recipe and a luscious parsnip purée from another pheasant dish.

The pheasant legs are cured for a while before cooking slowly as a confit. The kitchen atmosphere becomes heavy with meaty, garlicky, herby, fatty notes and salivary glands and digestive juices prepare for action.

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I’m still surprised by the generous amount of meat which comes from a brace of pheasant’s legs.

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Layers of meat, onion and herb mix disappear between those of potatoes but as soon as this ‘side’ is dished up and tasted it becomes deliciously obvious that any little trouble making it is oh so worthwhile.

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More indulgence here with the Madeira-rich sauce. I soaked dried shiitake mushrooms for the liquor. They retained a meaty chewiness while chestnut mushrooms softened more in the pan.

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Just a stick blender for the purée. It turned out silky enough to pass muster on Masterchef - maybe even the pro version!

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The red cabbage recipe goes for a mingling of sweet and sour. Onions don’t feature. Which is good. I’m sure they would upset the balance of flavours here.

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Two pheasant crowns remain for cooking just before serving. I almost did these justice. Although rested for a good while, I had taken them a little too far in the pan and the meat had more resistance than most would like. Maybe if I had paying guests I’d be more careful. Nope. I’ll stubbornly carry on serving the occasional mistake for free.

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Kitchen strip lights have leeched out some of the visual appeal of these plates. No matter. This was not quite the bird with all the trimmings which had seen us through Christmas Day but every element made a flavour statement and combined to usher in new year cooking and eating with a pheasant fanfare.

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Fruit salad helped to push back the richness of our main course and perhaps fool us into thinking we might even be on a healthy eating kick. Any suggestion in that direction was countered by a scoop of indulgent toasted almond ice cream.

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Our sons flew the nest some years ago but we still welcome their return with their delightful partners at any time. Their festive visit was already over but they had left us with lovely, newly-made memories and in blissful ignorance of the existence of my reserve stash of petits fours. These rum truffles, pear jellies, whisky and ginger truffles, confit clementines and peanut butter truffles were a perfectly adequate quintet to accompany our coffees.

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Meals will be less involved and not quite so rich for a few weeks ahead now. I will happily go for more simple ideas but we have already set dates for dinner with friends. Then 2020 will again see me taking time and making effort to offer something slightly fancy but hopefully crowd-pleasing from the kitchen. Still with no charge attached - until further notice.

Happy New Year, everyone!

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*A twelvemonth steaming crock of shit (translation from the Queen’s Christmas address to the nation)

June Lunch at Gravetye

Gravetye Manor – Friday 28 June 2019

We celebrated my Mum’s 89th with lunch at Gravetye a little over two years ago. Mrs Cheoff and I have since experienced Gastronomic Gravetye on my birthday. In between those two events I spent one glorious day pretending to help in the kitchens and I had an equally magnificent invitation to a rare George Blogg ‘Masterclass’.

We decided that our latest visit would be a repeat of the first - except that it would be a lunch taken in the flush of summer.

“Quintessential country house hotel, Michelin-starred dining and world renowned garden.”

The Gravetye Twitter bio sums it up really. Your interest has been piqued and you just need to book now. No need for me to elaborate, eh.

Strap in - you know I don’t give up that easily!

Arrival

A now familiar drive saw us crunch safely onto the gravel of what is surely the most welcoming of Sussex car parks. Only the embarrassing offer of valet parking to negotiate. I handed over the keys with a large grimace and offered the guilty admission that I had washed the bodywork but neglected the interior valeting before setting off.

How Do Their Gardens Grow?

Best to work up an appetite for lunch with a stroll outside. Any season at Gravetye demands this. Our day needed nothing but light attire. English summer means English summer here. Instructions for the easiest way to the elevated walled vegetable garden were followed and we were soon walking through its gates and exploring row upon row of vegetable, fruit and flower bounty.

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The prospect of seeing so much of that produce appear in the dishes on our lunchtime menu was a glorious one. The kitchen here constantly take the freshest of ingredients and the finest inspiration from produce just outside their back door

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Down to the croquet lawn. A smooth, manicured, controlled surface edged by wilder, longer grasses, complete with shy spikes of dainty pink common spotted-orchids. There are combinations and contrasts which challenge and excite everywhere in the Gravetye garden.

And, as we sat for a while in shade, Head Gardener Tom Coward brought a group from London College of Garden Design onto the green court to describe and explain elements of the William Robinson legacy which he and the garden team protect and develop with such skill and care.

Below Tom informs and entertains with his lovely quiet authority during one of the ‘Garden Tours’ which you may book here.

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Snippets of his wisdom drifted across to us but we were less inclined to learn scientific names and continued down to the flower garden to bask in its displays through a mixture of our senses and wordless, wondering thoughts.

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Beyond the south wall the meadow slopes down to the lake below. We walked to look over and take in yet another example of what happens when deliberate human interference and control goes only so far and then leaves nature to take over.

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Many guests were scattered around the gardens taking refreshment. Passing by one particular couple we recognised Marcus and Jane Wareing who both once worked at Gravetye. Recognised only. We quietly moved on and left them to the less obtrusive and much more appropriate attentions of Gravetye staff. Besides, those attentions had already begun to be given to us in equal measure. Every guest is awarded a star here.

From the Weekend Telegraph, December 2017

Apéritifs

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Just to the right before the opening into the Little Garden is a nook set out with bench and chairs and sheltered by that large-leaved tree. If only we had lingered with Tom Coward I could tell you its common and Latin name. Never mind.

We settled there and were soon ordering our first drinks. A repeat of the Ridgeview Estate ‘Bloomsbury’ fizz enjoyed on our first visit for Mum’s birthday lunch. A non-alcoholic ‘Sour’ for me as I was driving. Simple but seductively oily and herby olives along with smoked almonds all helped to prepare our taste buds for the complexity of the main menu. We made our choices and were gently led to our table in one of Britain’s most stunning dining rooms. If you relish great design, architecture, build quality, decorative arts and the sympathetic use of ceramics, wood and fabric you may well have to slow down service in order to linger on the feast of visual delight which has surrounded diners since the new restaurant opened in May 2018.

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Ready to lunch

Food

Food? The food was wonderful. And that is where I’ll end comment on it here. It was complicated and accomplished enough to deserve another post of its own. Too much distraction all at once would divert me from my main thrust here - the quality of people who make up the Gravetye family.

Family

I cannot reference every member of the team who make up that family. There is a natural flux as individuals gain experience and decide to develop and grow elsewhere. Some are regular features (hello, Brian!). But five visits have confirmed to me that everyone responsible for our experiences presents with polished professionalism and a very real desire to do something thoughtful and generous for each guest.

I do try to avoid ‘favourites’ so all I’m doing next is to pick out two people who insist on being acknowledged. They are at the very top of their profession and Gravetye is daily enriched by their presence. Of course they do not, cannot, attend to every guest’s needs. But they, and other key members of the team, lead by such an example that everyone is in tune with the inspiration through excellence which they example.

Managing Director

‘Managing Director’. I suppose those two words suffice as a convenient job description for Andrew Thomason. He certainly manages and directs. But that can’t begin to encompass all he does. At some stage you will be looked after by him personally or ‘second-hand’ by someone he has prompted or trained effectively to be a chip off his not-yet-all-that-old block. His attention to detail spreads from a hand-written greeting for guests who have booked rooms to the quick remembering that a jacket in the cloakroom is ready for collection and not for forgetting. It is quite possible that he does not recall absolutely everything about you from any previous visits but I would not discount that. At any rate, he makes easy and immediate connections which confirm your small but very significant membership of the ‘Gravetye Family’.

Gravetye is inescapably a commercial enterprise and Andrew must have to be a hard-nosed businessman at times. I imagine he delivers even that aspect with the softest of touches. He appears to have a rare desire to care for the wellbeing and comfort of everyone he meets. Even his customary sharp tailoring cannot hide the gentle man beneath.

Executive Chef

George Blogg (left) supporting Matt Worswick as he accepts a Michelin star for the Latymer Restaurant team. David Everitt-Matthias looks on with huge admiration and totally justified pride. A favourite picture.

The kitchen have their Michelin star which is awarded for the quality of food alone. That star arrived soon after George Blogg became Head Chef. His present title confirms a step back from constant control. But, having himself been mentored by hugely intelligent and talented chefs, George has now trained and instilled a team with the confidence to express and interpret his thoughts about food and to continue to do justice to the produce of the Gravetye gardens. A recipient of the Matt Campbell Extra Mile Award, he continues to help young chefs to develop their careers in the industry’s other kitchens.

On this day our gooseberry soufflés were delayed by the arrival of an unexpected pre-dessert. After a quick double-take we realised that George Blogg was serving them to us! We managed to discuss the merits of ruby chocolate, the rigours of chef competitions and balancing time for the rewards of a life bringing up a family with those of a fulfilling but oh-so-demanding profession.

Our conversation was all but silenced by the realisation that someone else was being served their soufflés. We watched as, with an admirable degree of calm, Commis Pastry Chef, Henry, delivered his work to Marcus and Jane Wareing’s table. We earwigged for the review from a rather well-qualified judge - “I hope this is on the menu again next year for my 50th birthday!”

Soon, tasting our own gooseberry soufflé with ginger ice cream, we readily agreed that Chef Wareing’s appreciation had been spot on.

George had left us by then. His visit was such a kind gesture to our table. Mum, already delighted by her experience, was now utterly enchanted.

You will certainly leave wrapped in the richness of your experience. Whatever the season all those generous human qualities which create perfect hospitality are beautifully interwoven at Gravetye with a centuries-old history and the wild and the tamed nature of the surrounding garden and landscape. With so much on offer, you could also leave wondering if you might have overlooked and completely missed something in your stay. What a perfect reason to return.

Soon.

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The Cellar Door, Totnes

Lunch, Sunday 10 June 2018

The 2018 summer had already switched up its thermostat when we ate here in the middle of a busy trip to Devon and Cornwall. That heat continues as I write this but there is an element of coolness in my reaction to The Cellar Door.

This is not fine dining but the menu suggests that chef Daniel Teage knows much about ingredients and flavours which work well together. So the menu creates serious interest.

Reviews on Facebook and TripAdvisor are mostly very positive for this restaurant. It is quite possible that we were unlucky on the day but it gets difficult to gloss over or excuse a succession of mistakes in service and in cooking. All of which I have discussed in phone calls with Restaurant General Manager, Emma Langmaid, and with Chef/Manager/Owner, Daniel Teage. Both listened to my points very attentively.

Time to chew the fat here with you as well. I must stress that chewy fat was not an issue on the day and will not be mentioned again.

But...

Hot plates for salad leaves are not a success. Both our mains arrived with a warm, dark green slime forming.

Chalk stream trout is a delicate ingredient. Too much curing had sent mine into the unwanted realms of chewiness. Too much sweet orange also suggested a daft fishy dessert. Chilli made a desperate attempt to limit the damage.

My bream was a simple classic served with pepperonata. The fish skin was almost crispy (still edible) but the fish had lost much moisture. I’m guessing that the pan was not hot enough, whereas the oven was too hot or used too long. The sauce had none of the richness which can be achieved. The lack of attention to detail here was poor, given that the dish’s success rests on just two elements.

Mrs Cheoff made her order of confit chicken leg but was eventually told that it was no longer available. She chose the breaded escalope chicken breast instead.

When her fish taco starter arrived with breaded goujons of fish we were exasperated at the lack of explanation from our server that failed to warn of breadcrumb overload.

The goujon coating was nearing burnt toast qualities and encased a dry fish bite.

The Sharpham Estate wine we had chosen from its interesting description was apparently not yet bottled.

We discarded the idea of dessert and settled up. We were asked about our meal (I think by Emma) but there was no consideration made for the disappointment we expressed except for a short verbal apology.

The reason for our underwhelming experience might be explained by the last-minute call from a KP which meant that Daniel was on washing up duties rather than in the kitchen. Which suggests that adequate back-up skills were not present in the kitchen. Service was fragmented and confusing due to lack of communication. The ‘missing’ wine was explained as one which the vineyard had already printed on the list. A correction to indicate availability could have easily been made.

I am pleased that most diners appear to enjoy The Cellar Door much more than we did. It seems obvious that the team were not on top form for our visit but we would not risk another booking.

This ‘cafe’ is a separate venture on the Sharpham Wine & Cheese estate. It has been bought in by them. It is apparent that the vineyard's quality control which produces consistently good wines and cheeses cannot be transferred to The Cellar Door where an even delivery is not guaranteed.

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Thought I'd best end on a lighter note... here's a dog.

Salt, Stratford-upon-Avon

Lunch - 9 February 2018

Our first experience of Salt was in June 2017. We had backed the Kickstarter run by chef Paul Foster and his wife Rhiain and our reward was a lovely Tasting Menu lunch. And then it was October and Jay Rayner published his review in The Observer. And then chef could finally stop crapping himself!

Mr Rayner’s experience and reaction was very much in line with ours. Close enough to stop me writing even a late review of my own. All the elements he identifies were enjoyed by us. Even the violent and bloody trauma of the RSC’s production of ‘Titus Andronicus’ later in the day couldn’t diminish happy memories of that meal.

On this second visit we ordered from the à la carte menu.

There was temporary distraction from good quality olives and smoked almonds. Deeper distraction arrived with the malted ‘mini muffin’ breads and ‘that’ house butter which smells and tastes fecund enough to be the product of intimate foreplay. No, I’m not trying to put you off. What... you’re booking a table now? That’s the ticket.

Two great starters arrived.

My Cured halibut, cep ragu, yellow chanterelles, crispy onion was fresh and deceptively gentle before deeper flavours took over. The fish was perfect. Melt-in-the-mouth raw. Raw but not raw. Mushrooms were given a light touch for the ragu and in the gently pickled chanterelles. The smoky tang of onion 'scraps' provided the final contrasts of flavour and texture.

Slow cooked duck egg, celeriac velouté, Dorset merguez
The richness of Mrs Cheoff’s bowl was insistent. It couldn’t be much otherwise given the trusted, classic ingredients. Two types of soupy, relatively sloppy components with the egg and the velouté. But the 'sausage' had been given enough surface crisp to restore textural balance. Indulgent stuff.

Mangalitsa pork, malted artichoke, salted pear, sprouting broccoli
This main was my high point of the meal. No good having a superb ingredient unless it is cooked with respect and understanding. Chef did not let me down. More importantly the supplier and the beast itself were not let down. Whatever had been done to the pear (brined, sous-vide… salt-baked?) it ate, skin and all, as the most perfect, firm but succulent fruit that you might wish for. Malted artichoke is one of those things which you can expect from Paul. An unassuming dab of something which suddenly reveals glorious texture and, even better, unexpected depth of flavour. I had cut off all the pork fat for eating. Its flavour will stay with me along with just a very few other food memories which are at the top of my dining out hit parade. I left a medallion of the meat. On the recovery phase of a stinking cold, I was so grateful that my nose and palate were pretty much back in working order. My appetite wasn't quite up to speed.

Hogget, lamb rump, hispi cabbage, goat’s curd
This was probably a slightly misjudged choice for Mrs C who, because she loves all things lamby, was following her starter with equally rich challenges in the main. That said, the ingredients and cooking shone out again. There is a lack of fuss in presentation here but ragged slices of hogget mean that a diner can choose how much of the fatty delights to trim for setting aside or for eating. In the end the richness was not quite balanced out by what should have been sharper and fresher hits from curd, cabbage leaf and monk’s beard. No matter… but it shows how more time spent exploring and understanding a menu with help from servers is not wasted.

We made a delightful revisit to off-dry German Riesling. Wines are cleverly chosen here and are offered at a sensible mark-up.

So far two thirds of our meal, four sixths if you like, had given large degrees of deliciousness, met with enjoyment and appreciation. But then our desserts arrived and the sweetness began to wane.

Papouasie milk chocolate, spiced orange cake, barley crisp
There was little wrong with any part of my finale except that it was a mean helping. Please understand that I have spent much time arguing with friends who manage to bemoan portion sizes considerably larger than my offering. I will always defend a chef who, in my opinion, has done enough to make us slow down and enjoy their creativity and hard work. But the rather wonderful cake here was served as four cubes no bigger than gaming dice. I cut each in two to prolong appreciation. My appetite was still sharp enough to hope for a more generous crisp than was offered. The rocher of chocolate was just perfect... but couldn't distance that feeling of being a little cheated.

If my pudding seemed lacking in generosity, Mrs C's appeared to suffer as well from the absence of decent ingredients.
Rhubarb, buttermilk ice cream
I suppose this might have been conceived as a riff on rhubarb crumble and ice cream. It did not satisfy anywhere in composition or delivery. A measly teaspoon of pink compote and a strangely tasteless green variety chopped into half centimetre chunks was all that represented the oh-so-seasonal rhubarb. Maybe there was a reference to the old-style way of dipping a raw stem into sugar but it didn't work. Cold and crunch from the two other elements but much confusion. Confusion mixed with much disappointment at the meagreness of it.

When the Facebook site offered a picture of a properly developed and finished dish shown below, it strongly suggested what can be achieved. Luscious pink rhubarb, bright peeled pistachios, whole and ground in an oily cake. Perhaps a sorrel granita? Included in a three course lunch at the same price as ours. More like it.

A good-looking dessert on offer from Salt for Mother's Day on Sunday 11th March 2018.

We fizzled out on a tea and a coffee without the accompaniment of petits fours. I’m not sure if this was an oversight or the result of their normal exclusion at lunch service.

Not a complete disaster but a stark contrast with our first meal. I don't know if the Grand Poobah of Gourmandise (that's you, Mr Rayner!) has returned like us. I hope he saw more consistency if he has or will see when he does. And if Mr or Mrs Michelin are visiting, they will demand that consistency before elevating chef and team to Bib Gourmand and beyond. They don't allow for excuses.

I don't have any stars to give out of course... but I can offer a possible excuse. We might have booked on the wrong day. Later, as we returned from seeing Edward 'Eddie' Elizabeth Hitler and others staging 'Twelfth Night' with great style my Twitter feed alerted me to another event in town that night.

So it's perfectly possible that our shiny stars at what must still be the top restaurant in Stratford had been distracted earlier by thoughts of impending glory. Glory for which I heartily congratulate them. All I ask is that they get back quickly to polish up their act and continue to do what they do best. Just do it even better. More often.

And we'll be back to check up on them... promise.

MR P'S CURIOUS TAVERN

Mrs. Cheoff and I dropped in here on February 16th 2017 for lunch on our way home from a Wearside (literally) Valentine's Day stay. The lingering (ever-present) romance meant that we agreed to share the 'Taste by Surprise' menu without too much argument. 

Charcuterie Plate: Hazelnut and Apple Salami, Chorizo, Lomo,
Bread, Oil and Balsamic

All on this platter was quite delicately cured and flavoured. Very thin slices - but about right considering what was to follow. We dipped our bread into an oil which was unremarkable and a vinegar which was certainly much sharper and less sweet than expected or wanted.

Calamari with Marie Rose Aïoli

The disaster. I foolishly assured Mrs Cheoff that this would convince her to include properly cooked squid in her menu options in future. What arrived was a bowl of those elasticated bobbles which are ideal for tidying up long hair but get sent back to a professional kitchen. The 'bobbles' were coated in a poorly seasoned, slightly damp ‘batter’. I still haven’t worked out how the squid could be so over-cooked inside while the outside coating was so limp. The sauce at least had a fruity, acidic hit of tomato.
Chef agreed to send an alternative.

 ‘Seaside’ Pickled Cockles, Mussels and Oak Roast Salmon
Marsh Samphire, Sour Cream and Poor Man’s Caviar

A clever, very pleasing mix here. Great coastal flavours dragged from the promenade stall and given a few richer touches with a smoked element and a suggestion of caviar which wouldn’t normally appear in your polystyrene cup… this was nicely presented in a ‘Kilner’ jar. Back on track.

Potted Clatter Dove ‘Royale’, Smoked Bacon Butter, Raisins, Black Truffle Brioche

My favourite. Let's forget that silly old ‘caviar’ business - this was truly more indulgent. Smoked butter was far thicker than expected... and all the better for that. Hidden chunks of bacon were awfully welcome. Wood pigeon was delicately rich and balanced out by sharp raisins. Is the fecund aroma of truffle on sweet brioche a step too far? Absolutely not… why stop short of complete and utter seduction?

‘Two Chefs’ Braised Pig Cheek Cottage Pie, Smoked Mashed Potato, Marmite Glazed Carrots

Almost a roaring success. This reads as a crowd-pleaser but, apart from the smashing carrots*, the other elements' flavour and seasoning were disappointingly weak and underplayed. So nearly there.
* I take little heed of you Marmite haters.

Tandoori Pheasant, Spiced Squash, Mango Purée, Fennel, Peanuts and Raisins

Again we had all the ingredients and recipe ideas for a treat. Again the flavours which should have come from spices were almost absent. The meat was dry and it didn't help that any suggestion of hot, smoky tandoor cooking was also missing. Our taste buds were not jaded... we were perfectly ready for further challenge.

Crumbed Black Pudding and Mustard Mayonnaise

This was our replacement for the calamari catastrophe. No real frills here but the earthiness of the pudding was given a wake-up call with just the right attack from mustard. The crumb joined in and formed a trio of well-judged textures. Simple, generous and tasty.

Admiral Collingwood Cheese, Landlord’s Pickle

Most cheeses hit the spot in some way. This was no exception. We’d enjoyed the pickle over at Harome on our last visit. It was lovely to make friends again.

Yorkshire Rhubarb ‘n’ Ginger Upside Down Cheesecake

Not the strongest of finishes. Our main concern was the titchy amount of rhubarb. I couldn't identify much ginger. There was a 'cakey' crumb on top but the 'cheesy' section was replaced with a melted custard ice cream. All a tad confused. And the cold numbed any little flavour which might have been there.

Trebbiano di Romagna, Le Coste Poderi, 2014

Wines are usually reliable from 'Pernshire' and our white didn't disappoint. Driving duty restraints limited our exploration here but the rest of the list looks as sound as expected. There is also a generous ginfest for those so inclined.

All in all a bit of a bumpy ride. We have only enjoyed sheer delight at the flagship (mothership?) Star Inn but I recognise that Mr. P's is a different beast. I would certainly return here but probably not risk the 'surprises' which were sprung upon us. Most of the items were available to choose from the  main menu. I'm sure you could find enough to enjoy on a more personally controlled basis. And, as was made clear, the responsive, professional kitchen is perfectly willing and able to compensate for any occasional weakness. 

I'm not here to put you off. Walk around the quirky interior (between courses or on your way to the loo) but be prepared to focus on the food. York has so much to offer and, when all is said and done, Mr. P's holds out the prospect of city centre eating well above average.

Many thanks to our server, Perrie, who provided confident and reassuring advice and acted as a very diplomatic go-between with the kitchen when things weren't quite right.

Many design considerations went into Mr. P's... look for the influential graphics on this bottle from an interesting South African wine producer when you visit.