Harters

I think if I was in Sheffield, I'd also be tempted by the Milestone. Although I note their website says all their meat is sous vide - so perhaps not.

Isn't this John Torode's gaff? Too much Mastercheffing and not enough restauranting, perhaps?

On the other hand, the current GFG has it at a score of 7 and it sits at 32 in its Top 50 list.

The Alderley manages to avoid the footballers wives glitz that pervades much the village of Alderley Edge. It does this with a simple formula – cook good food, serve it up with skill in pleasant surroundings. It’s really not that hard, is it? The hotel, like almost all the 19th century “big houses” in Alderley, is Victorian gothic but the restaurant is in a light airy modern conservatory. And, in an aspect important at my time of life if I’m going to be sat in one place for a couple of hours, the chairs are very comfortable. Service hits that difficult balance between formality and friendly approachability. And the food reads very well on the three menus on offer. Although perhaps too great an emphasis on sous vide and espumas/foams for us. There’s a main carte with half a dozen or so choices at each course. There’s a decent looking tasting menu. And there’s a very attractive “market menu” priced at £35 (although we’d noted that the website has it at £29.95). It was this from which we decided to order. Bread came quickly. White, wholemeal and an excellent cheese & onion. This was wolfed down and a restocking was offered and accepted. The amuse brought the almost obligatory cup of soup – a warm parmesan cream, topped with the first of the espumas (butternut squash) with a sprinkling of bacon on top. Good flavour but the mix of the hot and cold soon merged to become simply tepid. For starters proper, there was a pressed veal terrine. A delicate flavour here that I liked, sharpened with a julienne of Granny Smith. A scattering of seeds and some micro-salad provided a texture contrast. My partner was enjoying a few salmon and shrimp fritters – good fishy flavour, crisp outer crumb. They sat on some wilted spinach. Alongside, a thick mousse like langoustine espuma and a blob of orange and saffron sauce. Local beef three ways (although it had a more elegant menu name that I can’t recall) – medium rare fillet, some long braised stuff and a few nuggets of just cooked liver. There was wilted kale, a cep puree and sauté potatoes (swapped for the advertised mash). Oh, this was good. Very good. I’d gone with the girly dish of roast hake. A lovely piece of fish that would have been lovelier if the skin had been crispy (or if it had been removed). There really is no real pleasure in eating flabby skin. There was wilted greens here as well, a thin tomato “broth”, a scattering of brown shrimps and a few dots of veg (cucumber?). There was pre-dessert that didn’t really work for either us. Undercooked rhubarb seems currently fashionable and, hopefully, fashions will soon change. The slivers of the fruit topped with an unmemorable foam. Puds were proper affairs. Banana soufflé was restrained in its use of banana but was, otherwise, a fine example of the soufflé makers craft. A caramel ice cream and few slices of banana worked well with it. I’d been intrigued by the gingerbread arctic roll - a thin roll of the cake encased ice cream. But the real stars here were the sous vide plums and an intense thick sauce of Poynton damsons. Really good. And to finish, good coffee served in a “proper” pot. And OK petit fours. A place to go back to, I think. (PS: Chatting with the restaurant manager whilst we were paying, I mention egullet. He replies, probably inevitably, "We had that David Goodfellow in recently)

Letter in today's Guardian suggests Wozza will "have to tread more Caerphilly in future".

Funnily enough, I saw your mention of L'Enclume and it reminded me that we hadnt been for a while. Reservation now made for early next month.

I think it's one of the issues with places that might be thought of as iconic. Punters expect the iconic dishes, particularly if they are one-off visitors (as I was - I would have been a bit disappointed if no snail porridge, for instance). I wonder how many are repeat customers.

Welcome, MiT. I've enjoyed your posts in "another place" and look forward to your contributions here. Absolutely, no need to feel daunted - there's a good balance of contributors here and pretty good information across the country. John

I see he has received a "police caution", avoiding a court case and, assuming he entered a guilty plea then, also avoiding a criminal record. One has to wonder if a non-celebrity would have been treated so leniently by the boys in blue.

PLOUGH & FLAIL, MOBBERLEY, CHESHIRE The Plough has been doing food for as long as I can recall and with mixed success. Bog standard pub grub in some past guises. A bloody good carvery when such things were all the rage in pubs in the 80s. Back to pub grub in more recent times – the sort where your lunch is dolloped up to you at the bar from vast serving dishes of watery looking cottage pie and chicken curry that had been sitting there for hours. So, it was with some trepidation that I suggested lunch here. Not least because the Plough is now owned by the Deckers Group – the owners of the “mixed grill and chips” place at the Water Sports Centre at Sale. So, in we went, fingers crossed. And, you know, it was a pretty decent lunch. It’s another of those pubs round this bit of North Cheshire that still call themselves a pub but, with all the tables set for dining, are really just casual restaurants. And, as with most of them, there’s a short table d’hote on offer – three courses at £14.95 – along with the more interesting looking main menu. For our first meal of the year, it had to be “more interesting”. My partner started with a chorizo and pancetta risotto. She knows a thing or two about risotto and turns her hand to making a damn fine one. So, it was praise indeed to hear how good this one was. The rice was spot on with just a hint of bite and not overly claggy. The pancetta a tad underwhelming but the very zippy chorizo more than made up for it. More zing in the little hints of red chilli in the rice. She had got the better of the starters. My tomato and cheese tart was not a thrill. Pastry was undercooked. The bottom of the tart was covered with a bland and boring Cheddar which was overwhelmed by the pleasantly sharp topping of sunblush tomatoes. Still, it was small portion so my boredom didn’t have to last for long. Herself also got the better of the mains. Steak pie is classic pub grub. It can be dismal - and usually is. But not here. This was a substantial shortcrust pie – crisp pastry, rich filling. Alongside, good chips, peas and little jug of gravy. I’d been attracted by the Dunham Massey suckling pig. It proved to be a restrained serving of a couple of small slices of albeit tasty meat - although nothing of the full-on flavour (and generosity) that you might see in Spain. There were crushed new potatoes and a portion of wilted kale that I could just feel was doing me good. A nice enough dish that would have been even better if the advertised black pudding and crackling had been there. Good gravy and a nice tart apple sauce also on the plate There was Cheshire Farms raspberry ripple ice cream to finish. Usually, we’re not that thrilled with this genuine “made on the farm” product but this flavour was pretty good.

Something we do nowadays for much the same reasons. Of course,that only applies where there's a choice. For places like L'Enclume and Fraiche, where the tasting menu is what they do, then we're very happy to eat it

You're put up by the show as being the "bad guys". And the way it is edited into quite trite soundbites means that's how the critics come across. IMO, of course. Nice review of San Carlo Cicchetti, the other week, by the way. John

Well, fuck me, that looks bloody good, Alan The other half has been saying we must get up the M6 in the next few weeks. I think she's right.

Blimey. You don't mean he actually schlepped up to Yorkshire to do you?

Bear in mind that they are being paid to act out their script. Which consists of the usual glib soundbite tosh which we expect from Masterchef. After all, writing a Masterchef script doesnt get tougher than this. Innit.

I certainly enjoy Jay's writings - even when it's somewhere in the North West when it will be all but guaranteed that he will diss it. Yawn, yawn.

Any updates, please?

I think possibly still no jeans. We did see four people, wearing jeans, come to the desk but then went away after a conversation with staff. May have been something totally different of course. It's a still a place where most men were wearing jackets but I never feel out of place in shirt and chinos, which is as formal as I ever get.

THE FRENCH AT THE MIDLAND HOTEL There’s a sense of occasion in having dinner at the Midland French. It’s about the setting – the knowledge that the restaurant has been around since 1903 when the hotel was built. It’s the oval room, still decorated in a Belle Epoque style that looks sort of old-fashioned but yet is entirely right. I can visualise my grandfather eating here in the early part of the last century – doing the deals with American cotton traders that brought such wealth to the city. Not for nothing was Manchester known as Cottonopolis. Probably in his day, a string quartet played in the lounge bar. Now the background strings music comes by way of CD proving that nothing stands still except, possibly, the entirely formal style of service. In itself, that adds to the occasion. You know you’re being treated well. The restaurant was the first in the UK to hold a Michelin star but that’s some considerable years ago. But, don’t get me wrong, there’s some very good food here (far better than the Good Food Guide’s miserly score of 2 might indicate) As for the food, there’s a good looking set price menu offered midweek – three courses for £35. But, you’re here for an occasion. You want the carte – even though some dishes are priced to induce a sharp intake of breath. Once seated, you’re offered bread. It’s served from a trolley, perhaps a dozen choices, all made in the kitchen daily. There’s a garlic & rosemary, a cheese & onion and, perhaps best of all, a lemon & thyme. It’s something to nibble on till the amuse arrives – a sliver of duck breast, another of duck foie, half a quails egg, a little micro leaf. Perfect – even a little grating of bitter chocolate seemed to work (although only just) The food has its roots in French cuisine but is entirely at home in north west England. One starter brought what looked like three almost perfectly cooked scallops. Two had the usual charring from their brief time in the pan. But the third was pale and it was only when it was cut into that the cleverness was revealed. This was scallop mousse shaped like the real thing – a delicate yet flavoursome mousse. Other contrasts from some shreds of long cooked pork, an almost ubiquitous cauliflower puree and a drizzle of cumin infused oil. The menu is written in that modern style of almost single word description. And my eye was immediately dragged to the item marked “Pie”. Well, of course it was – I’m a man and northern. It promised pork, prune, egg and pickle. I wondered what cheffy twist might be played here. But, no, I was served a slice of pork pie. A superb pork pie – full of flavour, with little dots of pistachio and a perfectly crisp pastry. Alongside, more quails egg, the pickle resembling Branston but lighter in texture and with sweet vinegary notes, the prune forming a dab of thick sauce which reminded me of the tomato ketchup I might have at home with a pie. This was a good plate – not a WOW plate but WOW isn’t what the Midland French is about. We’d have happily ordered any of the seven main courses on offer. But, for such a classic setting, there was only one for us. A classic Chateaubriand for two. It’s probably been on the French’s menu since Grandad’s time. There’s some theatre in this dish. It‘s brought from the kitchen and presented for inspection before being carved tableside for us. Bang-on at medium rare and a generous portion at that. The plates have already been dressed with an array of vegetables – turned carrots, cubed beetroot and turnip, wilted spinach, fried mushrooms and a rich and, possibly just too sweet, onion marmalade. And there’s chips of course – because we’re in Manchester. But only four “fat chips” each, because this is the Midland French. There’s a light red wine sauce poured over to coat the beef and a big dollop of a superb béarnaise, heavy with a tarragon zing. This is a proper plate of food in my book – good ingredients, cooked with finesse. We needed to wait for desserts to be prepared but they were both well worth waiting for. A light treacle soufflé was a perfect consistency and came accompanied by malted milk ice cream. The other plate brought a chocolate fondant, oozing with a rich sauce which contrasted well with slightly salted caramel and a pistachio ice cream. Absolutely the sort of desserts you want to eat at a place like this. It had been three years since we’d last eaten here. It isn’t somewhere you’d want to come very regularly but three years is far too long. This really is good cooking.

I've reflected on the above and need to swap out Da Piero & Stewart Warner for the Midland French and Baslow Hall. Review of the French coming soon to the Manchester City Centre thread.

Two stand head & shoulders above the rest: In de Wulf, Sat Bains I can't really rank the rest in order, without more effort than I'm arsed to give it: Da Piero, Wirral Martin Wishart at Loch Lomond Panoramic, Liverpool 365, Pollensa, Mallorca Genestar, Alcudia, Mallorca Il Pagliaccio, Rome Kalinka, Oudtshoorn, South Africa Stewart Warner at the Hillbark, Wirral That said, I'm hoping tomorrow's meal at the French at Manchester's Midland Hotel would displace one of these.

With perhaps a sigh of relief, I'm rather glad that it wasnt lunchtime when we passed this way back in the summer

MERLIN, ALDERLEY EDGE, CHESHIRE This was a family gathering celebration meal, venue picked by others. From a foody point of view, I dread these events. It’s all lowest common denominator. Someone doesn’t eat that. Someone else can’t afford that. Someone else’s idea of a varied meal is to have a small lump of meat next to their large lump of meat – and none of that foreign muck either. Anyway, in the event, this turned out to be none too shabby pub food. The menu sticks fairly closely to a “Modern Brit” style most of time but does thrash about the Mediterranean in a fairly uncoordinated way for the remainder. I kicked off with a chorizo hash, topped with a poached egg and a decent hollandaise. OK, the chorizo was a bit sparse but, otherwise, this was a plate which looked and tasted the business. The main course brought some nicely pink lamb rump, sauteed new potatoes and soubise sauce, incorporating pancetta, pearl onions and a separate bowl of root veg. No problem for me in hoovering this up. My partner had shared a mezze plate with her mother. I gather they both liked it – usual Greek Cypriot dips, some roasted peppers and other veg, good crisp flatbreads. Ribeye steak came accurately cooked as requested and topped with a little horseradish butter. There were chips, of course. Now herself makes the point that they were described as “frites” for her dish and other dishes had “jenga chips” and “fat chips” – but everyone got the same bog standard frozen chips. Others had desserts which seemed to go down well. And, at this point, the evening took a nosedive. The bill arrives. There’s no mention of the fairly hefty deposit paid. They claim they have no record of a deposit (family member who made the reservation doesn’t have the receipt with her). Manager’s attitude aggravates what is already piss poor customer service. Family member ends up having to pay full bill, and has to return today with receipt to get refund. Left rather a sour note on the proceedings

Indeed, yes. Much more so than when this thread started. Best place I know for online cookware (and difficult to obtain ingredients) these days is a search of the Amazon site. Always the first place I look.

BELLS OF PEOVER, LOWER PEOVER, CHESHIRE Situated down a narrow cobbled lane, and sharing the access with the parish church, the Bells looks like the quintessential country pub. And, some 40 years back, when we last visited, that’s exactly what it was. Now it is much more of your dining pub. No, I tell a lie. Actually, it’s more your restaurant that happens to be in an old pub building that still retains a tiny bar area. Certainly a bar area too tiny for a game of darts. I can’t recall the food from all those years ago but I’ll bet it wasn’t as good as what’s now on offer. For example, a smoked haddock fishcake was light, crispy and, thankfully, fishy. It sat on just wilted spinach, was topped with aubergine “caviar” and surrounded by a lemon butter sauce. Excellent contrasts of tastes and textures. Venison terrine was rich and gamey. The plate artfully decorated with pickled vegetables and a pea puree. Working well with it were two brioche rolls – light and with a hint of sweetness that contrasted nicely with the pickled items. Some thought had gone into this dish and I really liked its balance. Salmon fillet was my main. Just cooked through but with a perfect crispness to the skin. Delicious. It sat in the bowl on top of spinach and a few halved new potatoes. The sauce was more light seafood broth than sauce but none the worse for that, the little nuggets of cockles and chopped razor clams adding another flavour layer. My wife went for the pub classic of a steak sandwich, in which the brioche made another appearance. This was another appealing looking plate – the sandwich, a bowl of chips, a handful of salad, a mini Kilner jar of béarnaise. What’s not to like? Well, truth be told, the steak was a bit chewier than you’d have liked but was cooked bang-on at medium rare. We passed on desserts but coffee was decent. Service had been attentive, even though they were under some pressure from a large “office Christmas lunch” party. Must remember not to leave it another 40 years before visiting again.