Harters

As you drive up to the Hillbark, you think “Wow. What a lovely well preserved Elizabethan house”. Then you realise it’s all fake. Built in the 1890s somewhere else, it was moved here in the 1920s. Even so, it must be a fantastic venue for the weddings that form the main part of the hotel’s business. But, frankly, we didn’t find it a fantastic venue for an upscale restaurant. You take your aperitifs and canapés in the faux great hall, complete with faux minstrels gallery. It’s a large, cold, souless space, uncomfortably furnished and utterly devoid of any atmosphere. The dining room, furnished in faux Belle Epoque style, is almost as bad. Perhaps it’d be better on the nights when it’s busy (apparently Saturdays) but with only one other table occupied, it was just a dreary hotel dining room. We were almost thankful for the overly loud background music – although we managed to hear the Michael Buble CD three times. However, and it is a big however, the food was absolutely faultless and the service was that good combination of being entirely professional, yet relaxed and friendly. Canapes were excellent – a shot glass of fennel soup, a cocktail stick kebab of lovely sweet grilled shrimp, a sardine brandade wrapped in a crisp, and a Kilner jar with smoked (and smoking) crackling. Shrimp again cropped up in the delicate consommé which formed the amuse. And there was good bread – very good bread. For one starter, a couple of perfectly cooked scallops, a little slow cooked pork, sorrel and almonds provided interesting counterpoints. The other was quail – the breasts and legs served separately and I couldn’t resist picking up the legs to gnaw off every last scrap. Some smoked bacon, breaded squash and a smear of a mild goats cheese. Bang on for my sort of starter. Mains were both in the style of meat cooked two ways – one long & slow and the other a quick fry. Piggy for me – middle white – the long & slow in the form of a slice of unctuous belly; the quick a delicious chop, just cooked through, with a thick layer of sweet fat and crackling that should provide a masterclass in the art of crackling production. There was also scattering of crisp chorizo and what was described as a “turnip choucroute”, pleasant enough in itself but, to me, lacking the sharpness that you might have expected and from which it would have benefitted. But this is nit-picking. Overall I was eating a superb plate of food. Across the table, slices of medium rare fillet of longhorn beef. Well, of course, fillet isn’t going to be packed full of flavour, but the accompanying braised oxtail more than made up for it. Pearl barley seemed spot-on for a cold, wet autumn night. And there was roasted parsley root providing a clever garnish. Up till now, dishes had been explained in meticulous detail. But pre-dessert was set down with the invitation to work out for ourselves what it was. Well, we worked out it was a caramelised sweetcorn pannacotta, topped with popcorn. And let’s say it was more interesting than enjoyable. For desserts proper, chocolate mousse accompanied by a beetroot parfait. I liked this a lot – the sweet earthiness of the beet worked well with the richness of the chocolate. The other plate was slices of fig poached in red wine with accompaniments nicely leaning towards the Middle East with an almond sorbet and honey ice cream. And we finished with coffee and really good petit fours. There was good news and bad news on the wine front. The bad news is that there is nothing inexpensive on the list, nor are there any half bottles. The good news is that they will serve you a glass from any listed bottle for one third of the bottle price, so if there was something really interesting you wanted to try, it wouldn’t break the bank. But, even with restraint in my partner’s selection, her two glasses racked up twenty six quid. And I can't leave the post without mentioning our chat with the restaurant manager afterwards. We'd commented on how quiet the place was and he replies that it's getting better known "We've had that David Goodfellow from egullet in, you know". I kid you not.

Good to see my early predication for "Martin Wishart at Loch Lomond" come to pass. And, of course, congratulations to Sat - our "best" UK meal so far this year and "second best" overall. Surprised at La Becasse losing its star - based on lunch a few weeks back.

Apparently he's now left the Collingwood. His latest wheeze is the "British Grill" at the Craxton Wood Hotel, near Chester.

A very indifferent meal, John. And certainly not close to star quality. See post #7 on this:- Clickety click

Not if our experience at Longridge is any guide.

Well, I finally got round to making these a few weeks back. Lovely stuff - and cutting down the honey to 2 tablespoons is spot on - I reckon the full amount would be waaaaay over the top. J

I couldnt manage without my flavour shaker. I use it once or twice a decade.

Perhaps the least you could do when advertising somewhere is to tell us its name and address.

It seems prominent to me and in the sensible section of the website, i.e."reservations". Surely the question about numbers centres on whatever Howard reserved. I do not believe that I have ever made a resaurant reservation without stating, and being asked to state, the number of diners. Surely Howard did not vaguely ask for "a table"? Unless, of course, in booking his room and dinner, he booked one of their "gastronomic packages" to which the website gives some prominence to the fact that prices are based on "two sharing".

IIRC, the pub in the centre of Hawkshead has "reasonable" food. Can't recall it's name. And wouldnt put the food better than reasonable. Punch Bowl at Crosthwaite & the Brown Horse at Winster have better than reasonable - I think I have reviews of both on the pub thread. Dunno about dog friendliness at any.

Priceless. That's priceless as in cheap and tacky.

Change of hands may be spot on Gary. The 2012 Good Food Guide lists the chef as Jonathon Nichols. The front of house bloke, who seemed to be The Boss, was called Jonathon. Same bloke would be my guess. Perhaps he's bought out whoever previously owned it.

LA CACHETTE, ELLAND (between Halifax & Huddersfield) It’s a bit of an odd sort of place. Presumably originally a pub, most of the fittings remain – from the wooden booths to the large bar that greets you as you enter. I say “greet” but, in truth, it’s a bit off-putting as you don’t know if you’ve walked into a bar or restaurant. Particularly when staff walking past don’t acknowledge you. And particularly when you’re left standing at the bar having been handed menus. But that’s not the only aspect of La Cachette that’s a bit odd. The other is that, in spite of its name, it isn’t French. Although there are some slightly odd and slightly pretentious nods towards the Gallic - as in calling the very well priced set menu the “menu du soir”. Not that this menu has anything French on it – apart from the “soup du jour”, that is. No, everything there – like almost everything on the main carte - is very much in a modern Brit bistro style. And it was the main menu we ordered from – well, we can get a sixteen quid three courser without having to drive the best part of an hour. And, even here, there is more of the slight silliness. For example, starters are split into two listings – “dishes to begin” and “signature starters”. And so are mains – “main plates” and “signature mains”. You really do wish they’d get over themselves. And they so easily could, because the dishes really appeal to the reader. As in a starter (or, as they’d have it, a “dish to begin”) of pigeon and pheasant faggots. Three well flavoured balls of meat, elegantly sat on top of mushy peas and surrounded by a good onion gravy. I liked. My partner also liked hers – onion tart or, as they’d have it, “French onion tart”. Good crisp pastry, oniony filling, a little crisp salad with a good dressing. Calves liver was still just about “medium”. The accompanying three rashers of dry cured bacon were excellent. Veg were nothing more than a couple of cherry tomatoes. But there were good chips. No, there were actually stunningly good chips. Fried in dripping – proper chips, not the ubiquitous “fat chips”. Crisp but with that hint of floppiness that distinguishes a chip from a fry. A bit oversalted for my taste but I forgive them that. Hells bells, for chips like those, I forgive them all the afore-mentioned silliness. The other main, one of two specials that evening, was a pan fried halibut loin. It came sat on a bed of artichokes, chorizo and peas. It was a great looking dish and great tasting – except for the slightly overcooked fish which had turned a bit pappy. Shame. Desserts were underwhelming. Lemon polenta cake was full of citrus flavour but was very, erm, solid. But there was a nice raspberry compote and some Chantilly cream. A home style favourite for me – a slice of rich fruitcake and a slice of Wensleydale. Would have been lovely if the cheese hadn’t been fridge cold. When I mentioned this, there was an immediate apology and no charge made – fair play to them. Service was fine – up until trying to get the bill and then trying to pay it. Took ages. On the plus side, La Cachette has a decent list of well priced wines, several of them available by the glass or 500ml carafe. I reckon if we were more local, it’d become a regular haunt.

LOTUS, NORTHENDEN We’d gone to Northenden intending to eat at Persian restaurant, Shiraz, only to find it shut, perhaps permanently. So, it was on to Plan B. I’m not the world’s biggest fan of fusion cuisine but, at least, Lotus keeps the two strands of its menu separate. So, a full Malaysian menu on the first couple of pages, followed by a couple of South Indian. We stuck with the latter and will return to try the Malaysian side of things in a few weeks. Mutton chukka is a Tamil dish. Almost dry with curry leaves very present and a powerful chilli kick. This was certainly a wake-up starter. Truth be told, it was a bit chewy although whether this was because it was mutton or because it needed longer cooking, I’m not sure (although my bet is on the latter). Chilli and curry leaf, along with coriander, formed the major flavourings of the first of my partner’s starters. Methu vadai were a couple of well fried, erm, doughnuts. These were really lovely and were, perhaps, the best thing either of us ate. Alongside, a little bowl of a coconut sambar and another of sweet chilli sauce. Her second starter filled most of the table. Served on a large stainless compartmentalised platter (that’s probably used elsewhere for thali type meals), there were four steamed idli. We’d not had these before and wouldn’t necessarily be in rush to order them again. Apparently, rice and lentils are ground to a paste and left for several hours, by which time the mixture ferments and sets somewhat. The steaming turns it into a soft ball of bland gloop. Yes, I know I’m not selling this to you but it wasn’t as bad as it reads. What perks things up considerably are the four chutneys provided for dipping – coriander, a spicy tomato, tamarind and the coconut sambar. This was followed by a masala dosa. Not the finest ever experienced. A well flavoured filling of potato which still had some texture but the dosa itself was soggy in parts. My own main, the Tamil classic of chicken chettinad was also OK. Offered the option of having it medium or spicy, I’d gone for spicy and was glad I had as the thin sauce remained restrained in use of spices and, in particular, of chilli. We did have some issues with service. My starter had to be chased up, for example. There was a gap between each main course arriving and then a further gap before rice appeared. It was almost as if whoever was cooking wasn’t really experienced in the restaurant business.

Much as I'd love to hope otherwise, there simply isnt anywhere I know in the metro area that's even close to the quality of Prashad. Good call on Damson. It's a while since I've been. Damson link Have you tried Steve Pilling's pub in High Lane? I keep thinking of popping there for lunch but always sem to get deflected.

SEVEN SPICES, CHEADLE HULME We’re not that well endowed with decent South Asian restaurants in North Cheshire – places with a “proper” menu and not serving up the “any protein with any sauce” of your standard high street curry house. There’s Dilli in Altrincham, there’s Sindhoor in Burnage, there’s Seven Spices and there’s.......well, that’s really about it. And even here, the meal was very much a game of two halves. There were some nice mini-pappads to start, with three decent chutneys – thinnish mango which managed not to be the lurid colours of the curryhouse, a soft yoghurt one and pokey one of mint, chilli & lime. Liked the last one a lot. Aloo papri chaat was a good follow-on. A nice mix of chickpea, potato, onion and crisp pastry dressed with a very zingy yoghurt and tamarind sauce. Perhaps a bit oversauced and a bit too wet – but it was well seasoned. Aloo tikki was the restaurant’s take on potato croquette, with the addition of the odd pea. It was just bland and very underwhelming and was barely lifted by a mint and tamarind sauce. Distinctly not bland was a special of Rajasthani lamb. I asked what it was and was told that it was like a standard rogan josh but hotter due to the use of roasted red chillis. OK, so having been warned about the heat, it is probably churlish to comment that it was too hot. But it was. There was none of the fragrance and rounded spicing of a well made rogan josh. This was raw chilli heat – the sort that caught at the back of your throat. It could have been so much better and it should have been so much better. Such a shame. There were much better goings-on on the other side of the table. Gosht Do Piaza brought the same tender lamb as my dish but, also, a cleverer, more subtle use of spicing and, in particular, chilli. Yes, of course, there was heat in there, but it wasn’t dominating the sauce’s masala. For carbs, a generous bowl of perfectly cooked fluffy basmati rice and a similarly bang-on tandoori roti, charred round the edges but not so much that it snapped. Service is attentive and smiley. The room is decorated and furnished in a modern style and there's table linen and a decent wine list. So efforts are certainly made here. It’s only just up the road, so we’ll obviously be back but must remember to choose more wisely next time.

Depends. Are you intending it to remain mainly a beach caff - which presumably means you have a very limited season? Or to go off on a tangent. If the former, then stick to the breakfast, beverage and "easy lunch" stuff. Good pastry/cake items should be an asset to the beverage sales. I'm presuming you havnt an alcohol licence? Any chance that the lunch stuff might use local produce - you may have great seafood around there.

Certainly Sat deserves his second. Our meal there has been the stand-out in the UK this year

I'll stick with my earlier prediction of a star for "Martin Wishart at Loch Lomond". And, once again, hope that this year is the year for L'Enclume's second - perhaps edging closer as it is now No. 2 in the GFG rankings.

You must have northern genes, Jenni. A full English isn't a full English unless there's black pud. And a "proper" one doesnt have beans - tomato and mushroom, yes, but that's as much a contribution to your "five a day" as you expect at brekkie.

SHIBDEN MILL INN, NR HALIFAX The Shibden Mill Inn has a lot going for it. It’s in a pretty part of the world on the rural outskirts of Halifax. It’s a nice building in an “Olde Worlde” sort of way. There’s a good range of beers. There’s a good range of food. It holds a Good Food Guide score of 3 and two AA Rosettes. And it’s just become the “UK best food pub” at the Publican Awards. Don’t let it put you off that this particular award is sponsored by Brakes Brothers – the food is really pretty good I kicked off with a slice of home made black pudding (well, of course I did), topped with a slice of rabbit ballotine. Both of a good flavour and well seasoned. The “stack” topped with a dainty fried quail’s egg. There was some dressed salad leaves and a “swoosh” of turnip puree adding an earthiness to the dish. Good start. For the second time in a couple of weeks, Jacobs Ladder put in an appearance. It’s an uncommon cut which I hope is becoming more popular. Cooked long and slow it really makes for a belting braise. A good variety of accompaniments – kale, purple sprouting broccoli, two sorts of beetroot (the usual one and a really earthy sweet white one), a punchy horseradish risotto was an interesting carb and, similarly enjoyable, there was a crisp and tangy fritter of local cheese. On t’other side of the table, herself was tackling the bargain set lunch at £11 for two courses (a couple of quid more gets you dessert). To start, a crayfish and crab cake was suitably fishy and came with a few leaves and what was described as celeriac remoulade but was a puree. A proper remoulade would have been nicer on the texture front but the flavours on the plate were fine. Beef followed. In this case, braised rump, served with the kale and broccoli and mash. This was good solid cooking with portion sizes such that we had no need of dessert. Food was entirely enjoyable. But, if there is to be one criticism then it is that the place suffered from our current pet hate – inordinate delays between courses. They were not overly busy and, otherwise, they seemed organised but it was approaching 30 minutes between starter plates being removed and more food arriving.

It seems to me that there are a goodly number of places that describe themselves as gastropubs without really knowing what they mean by it. It becomes little more than a marketing term or advertising slogan. Stephen Terry doesn’t describe his gaff as a gastropub but it seems to fit exactly my feeling as to what one should be. It perfectly combines the gastro with the pub. OK, no-one is going there for a game of dominoes and there’s no darts team. But you’re not going to feel out of place just popping in for a drink. That said, most of the building is given over to serving food. And it’s a menu of some length and with some ambition, reaching out across Europe for its elements. Of course, that’s perhaps no surprise. Terry has twice held Michelin stars – at London’s Canteen and, some ten years ago, at the Walnut Tree just down the road from the Hardwick. Panzanella was a salad of utmost seasonality and freshness, including three different “heritage” tomatoes. A dressing of oil, balsamic and capers soaked nicely into the bread. Sticking with the nod towards Italy, the other starter was crab linguine – a generous, almost main course sized, portion, with courgettes, anchovy and a little kick of chilli. The freshness of the delicate crab was very much to the fore but this was very much a butch dish. For mains, a local line-caught sea bass sat on roasted red peppers, artichokes, grilled courgettes and rocket. OK, the fish was a tad under-seasoned and the real stars were the vegetables. Full of flavour and expertly cooked. A plate of rabbit sounded a really good idea. Loin wrapped in Parma ham, a rabbit and quail Scotch egg, a pithivier of braised shulder. In truth, it was a little underwhelming in its flavours, even for rabbit. But again, it was lifted by the vegetables – roasted carrots, just wilted chard and some sautéed new potatoes. I was also less than keen on the presentation. I don’t really like food served on wooden boards – particularly when space is taken up by your potatoes coming in their own fiercely hot metal mini-pan. And your sauce similarly comes in another mini-pan which you can’t pour out for fear of it sloshing everywhere. It all means you have to carefully pick your way through dinner. No quibbles, however, about dessert. We decided to share a plate of Welsh cheese. Can’t recall which ones we had. There were six – all in peak condition and, mercifully, not fridge cold. Served with biscuits and membrillo. Summer pudding had been made in its serving glass and topped with a very thick layer of double cream. Fresh, seasonal food that was delicious. Spanish style churros were made for eating with your hands. Particularly when there is a lovely, not too sweet, chocolate sauce to dunk them in. You did need a spoon for the Seville orange marmalade ice cream that came with it – sweet, sharp and delicious. Service is relaxed, friendly and just what you’d expect in a well run gastropub.

THREE TUNS, HAY ON WYE, POWYS The Three Tuns is listed in the Michelin Guide. Reading the pub’s website, apparently the Guide describes it as “one of the best dining pubs in Great Britain”. Now, if that’s an accurate quote, then I’d suggest the Guide’s inspectors need to get more. That’s not to say it wasn’t a pretty decent lunch. In fact, it was a pretty decent one-course lunch. On one plate, a salmon and smoked haddock fishcake, that had a good ratio of fish to potato. There was a handful of salad leaves. And there were some very decent chips. Faggots on the other plate. Or, to be precise, a single very large lump of faggot – full of meaty livery flavour. It sat on a mound of mash, itself topped with mushy pea. And there was an OK, if somewhat industrial, gravy. This was none too shabby al round and, perhaps, if the Guide does describe the Three Tuns as one of the best in the “country”, a typo had crept in and they meant “county”. Certainly worth a punt if you're in town book-buying.

It’s years since we’ve eaten Shaun Hill’s food. That was when he was at Ludlow. The memory can play tricks but I have a sense that the food is now simpler, more straightforward, the flavours more direct. Unsurprisingly, the menu is very much in the “modern Brit” style but with the occasional darts into foreign territory. Non-native, if not unfamiliar, elements if you will. It’s outstandingly good. The style was set by the amuse – a lovely mini-crabcake with a simple dressing of tomato and capers. This was served in the tiny bar area, so I suppose it might be described as a canapé. We were quickly moved through to our table, no doubt to free up space in the bar for arriving customers. A starter of red mullet was bang-on for cooking. We seem to be particularly enjoying fish in recent months and this was no exception. Moist flakes with just a little charring round the edges. A dressing to tomato, chilli and ginger would have benefitted from a slightly heavier hit of chilli but otherwise worked well. It takes a real master to offer a simple dish and make a success of it. Here, baby courgettes, sugar snaps, parsley and chickpeas – and that was pretty much it. Almost summer on a plate – and absolutely enhanced by the chickpea puree which acted as the sauce. Delicious. Mains looked simplicity personified. One a plate of rare breed Berkshire pork – thin slices of loin, long cooked cheek and a lovely piece of belly, with crackling so crisp you’d have heard it breaking miles away. Straightforward accompaniments of masked potato, steamed cabbage and a light gravy. The other dish – skirt steak, cooked rare with ceps and Parmentier potatoes. And a lovely dressing of parsley, garlic, oil, lemon and, I think, anchovy. Salsa verde by any other name, this worked so well. Both dishers show that, yes, you can offer “proper” plates of food, with no foams or the use of tricky gizmos, and hold a Michelin star. Desserts were stars. Mirabelle plum fool – tasting of plum and cream. And nothing more was needed. A summer pudding type dish of nectarine and wimberry. It tasted even better than it looked. And it looked superb. Intensely flavoured and a glossy, almost black sauce against the white of the plate – this looked like a monochromatic work of art. And, yes, it was delicious. Wimberries are a personal favourite, dating back to childhood. This was a reminder of why. We finished with excellent coffee and equally excellent petit fours. A stand out meal of 2011.

Located in the old Hibiscus building, the room appears unchanged. There’s still the odd combination of rough stonework and dark wood panelling. It’s still a bit too hot for comfort. And there’s still really good food. A variety of menus are on offer at lunch – from the 10 course surprise tasting, through the carte to a short set lunch. And it was the latter, priced at £30, which appealed. Three choices at each course with, of course, amuse and pre-dessert. This is one-star cooking, of course, so such extras are almost a given. And it was the amuse that was the full-on in-yer-face flavour of the whole meal. A take on carrot and coriander soup. Spiced carrots in the bowl, an intense carrot veloute, sprinkled with a little coriander leaf. I may never want a bowl of Covent Garden again. Carrots appeared again in one of the starters. Pickled in orange this time. And accompanying a fillet of red mullet, a few very crispy battered squid rings and a couple of balls of deep-fried breaded brandade. Ohhh, it was good. Very good, Very good, indeed. Where I come from, we have a name for “jellied pig’s head ballotine”. It’s “brawn” and it’s delicious. The sort of thing granny had for her Sunday tea. Becasse’s version is Michelin refined and is not as in-yer-face as you might buy on Bolton market. But it was certainly nice enough. And lifted by the slightly incongruous accompaniments of a chickpea salsa, citrussy from preserved lemon, and little dab of hummus. I wasn’t sure that this was going to work – but it very much did. For a main, chicken came as breast and leg. Just cooked through, the flesh very succulent. The birds come from Bryn Derw farm in Wales and are free-range and slow growing. I’m sure this accounts for the excellent flavour. It came with what must be the last of the Jersey Royals and almost the first of the runner beans. It was dressed with a light cream sauce which I think always works well with chicken. Breast of lamb had been long cooked with a very punchy stuffing of pine nuts, rosemary and capers. There was purple sprouting broccoli on the side and a good drizzle of more punchy flavours in the form of salsa verde (or “verdi” as the menu has it). Desserts were in fine fettle. Pre-dessert was a Pimms jelly topped with a sweet cucumber cream. One of us thoroughly enjoyed this, the other wouldn’t want to repeat the experience. As to desserts proper, there was deconstructed and reassembled peach melba, incorporating all the elements of the classic and, whilst, very good, was not necessarily an improvement on the classic. The other described as “strawberry” was very much a work of art. A small crepe enclosed lemon curd; there was a scattering of strawberries, a sorbet, and a tang of the savoury from a black pepper caramel and some basil olive oil. This worked so well – and I would have been more than happy to keep eating the crepe concoction till the cows came home. Almost needless to say, service from the mainly French staff, was formal and faultless. The discretionary 12.5% service charge is well earned.