Harters

Good keyboard skills, my arse.

Leaving aside the north west (where I watched every evening), I'm continuing with last year's idea of just watching the judging episode. The irritation caused by the fake tension far outweighs missing out on one chef's dishes. "Peoples banquest", my arse!

NINGS, OLDHAM STREET In spite of the colonial history, the UK is a bit short on Malaysian cuisine. There are, I think, only two restaurants in the metro area – Bunga Raya in Hazel Grove, which has provided our only other experience, and Nings, up the seedy end of Oldham Street in the city centre. It’s difficult to fault anywhere that can put on two courses of edible food for under fourteen quid and I’m not going to try too hard. This midweek menu offers around half a dozen starters and perhaps a dozen mains. In the latter category, there’s a range of curries, noodle dishes and the like. My partner decided to go with this. She started with gado gado salad – warm vegetables and tofu, topped with a peanut sauce. Pleasant enough although two appearances of carrot, sliced and grated, seemed excessive. The sauce, nicely peanutty, needed more of a kick from something – chilli, soy sauce – something..... anything. This was followed by beef rendang. A generous serving of long cooked, tender and very flavoursome beef with the thick sauce just clinging to it. A little sweet and underspiced for her tastes, she declared that, shock horror, the version at Tampopo is better. Meanwhile, I’d ordered from the main menu and, in effect, ordered two breakfasts. First up, roti canai. An interesting flatbread, more the texture of thin flaky pastry than bread and quite oily, together with a dish of a pokey vegetable curry sauce to dip into. The second dish, nasi lemak, gets internet descriptions as the “national dish”. Arranged on the plate, chicken breast topped with satay sauce, fluffy well cooked rice, a little salad, a fried egg, a little dish of a fiery sambal and the oddest very tiny salty dried chewy fish. Well I suppose Malaysia brings together disparate communities into one country, so why not bring together disparate ingredients onto one plate and call it the national dish. Why? Because it doesn’t work very well, that’s why. Nothing vile about it and I cleared my plate with no problem but it was no more than OK. So, there we are. One of those Tuesday meals where you go and have your tea, rather than dine out, if you see what I mean. But if you’re in the centre and in need of something asian that’s a little different from the usual Chinese or Indian, it might just do the business. And it certainly won’t break the bank

Border County Foods will do you mail order on bunny and other game (as well as some very fab pork and a particularly good peppery Cumberland sausage) http://www.cumberland-sausage.net/game_price_list.htm

Just read Lanchester's review. No doubt, most indicative that, even on day 2 of opening, James Martin wasnt in the restaurant.

It was only the other week that I reckoned I’d found a new “best ever favourite” restaurant. That was In de Wulf in Belgium. Now its top spot in my affections is under threat. Our meal at Sat Bains was as perfect an experience as you’re likely to want. Certainly as perfect as I want – and Nottingham is a heck of lot closer than Dranouter. It’s one of those places where you immediately feel welcomed – the staff just seem pleased to see you and really want you to have a good time. And service manages to hit that difficult blend of formal and efficient yet friendly and engaging. It’s a knack many places just don’t manage. I even really liked the room, decorated with glass artwork “hangings” that I’d happily give house room to. Our table was in the glass roofed “conservatory” – great views of the neighbouring electricity pylon. There’s a 10 course tasting menu and an entirely different 7 course one. Naturally, we went for 10. My partner took that with the wine pairings – very expertly put together and explained by the sommelier. The menu focuses on the five tastes – salt, sweet, sour, bitter and umami – with each dish “ticked off” on the menu for the tastes represented. It kicked off with an unadvertised dish. Elsewhere I’d have described it as an amuse but, in the same portion size as everything else, it’s just an unadvertised extra. And it was a belter. Fennel gazpacho with cubes of frozen cucumber. Then a dish of salty, sweet scallops, a little slice of soft fatty pork belly, cubes of sharp apple, apple puree and crushed cornflakes. Really liked the texture contrasts here as well as the flavour match. Braised leeks and ramsons followed. Perhaps the best braised leeks you’ll ever eat – but really still just braised leeks. It slotted brilliantly between the previous dish and a rich dish of “English duck, with asian influences”. Duck parfait, not overly rich, wrapped in duck ham – a lovely combination in itself, accompanied by the “influences” of mushrooms and plum sauce Then one of the superstar dishes. Spring vegetables – thin crisp slices of asparagus and alexanders (a wild plant tasting of something of celery but not quite), topped with shreds of a very unctuous braised Wagyu beef and shavings of Parmesan. Inspired cooking. The puzzling dish named NG72SA was up next. Of course, it’s the restaurant’s postcode and it represents their foraging in the very immediate vicinity. A seemingly simple, and delicious, plate of hedgerow leaves and flowers but completely lifted to Michelin standard by the inclusion of a horseradish pannacotta – soft and silky, yet with the necessary little kick from the horseradish. The final savoury dish is Sat’s take on a BBQ. A little slice of very rare loin of roe deer, a little venison kofta, charred Little Gem lettuce, beetroot crisp, some cucumber and yoghurt. And it was this dish that raised the only minor nit-picking with the two of us. It was the yoghurt that didn’t quite sit right. It’d be fine at home to mellow the highly spiced koftas I make but, with the much more restrained flavouring by the kitchen, it was the yoghurt that dominated. But, that aside, this was a very fine dish. At this point, we were invited to visit the kitchen to meet the man himself. Tiny. The kitchen, not the man. I didn’t see any other customers invited so we must have been a random pick. Copy of menu signed, it was back to the table for desserts. Sweet “curry” saw the bottom of the bowl covered with a thick rich sauce – savoury and sweet at the same time with the mildest hint of curry spices. A yoghurt (?) pannacotta also had a hint of spicing . And the traditional mango chutney with a curry was replaced with a mango sorbet. Crunch came from a scattering of coconut. Clever. Very clever. Next, a small quenelle of very rich chocolate ganache, topped with crystallised violet flowers. The richness was set off by an olive oil pastille. And, finally, a lemon mousse, surrounded by thin slices of dehydrated meringue and topped with fennel and basil – a really interesting combination of flavour and texture and absolutely delicious. We passed on coffee but the waiter insisted we try the chocolate brownies that would have accompanied it. Well, twist my arm then. Lovely end. In the Good Food Guide’s list of its Top 60 UK restaurants, Sat Bains sits at 6. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it edge upward. This was a great evening that we’re going to remember for a long time.

I agree -it's a belter of a tater and available for a large part of the year. That said, Sainsbury does overhype and overprice it so I'm more than happy to get Pink Fir when I see them at the farmers market or greengrocer. I really can't taste the difference between the two.

We've got Baslow Hall pencilled for dinner on my partners birthday in July. Hope it's worth it - seems fecking expensive at £72.

I reckon you'll find that most city centre places will be well accustomed to the "business traveller" single diner so you'll be unlikely to stand out. Even though now retired, my interests take me away from home from time to time. I tend to look for the good quality casual place - at higher end places, I miss someone to talk about the food with. Take a book or newspaper in case you get bored between courses (although earwigging other conversations is occasionally fun)

LIME TREE, WEST DIDSBURY There are some folk who would flag the Lime Tree as South Manchester’s “best”. I wouldn’t be one of them. Yes, it’s been there for donkey’s years. And, yes, it continues to produce reasonably good mid-range food. And, yes, it was packed. But, it misses out on the big flavours and accurate cooking of, say, the nearby Jem & I. There’s welcoming and efficient service; a menu that’s good to read and well priced for the area (starters at £6 – 7, and mains around the sixteen quid mark) and a wine list packed with stuff by the glass or half bottle which is always a plus point as we are a one drinking person couple. Moules mariniere were a good offering. Plump, juicy mussels and a tasty classic broth (although this was little more than a moistening of the bottom of the bowl). It came with bread and a thoughtful finger bowl. The following main was well thought out and executed. A fillet of sea bass managed to get right the combination of moist flakes of flesh and crispy skin. A salmon fishcake provided a tasty carb and there was just cooked, and very seasonal, asparagus, along with a tomato and basil butter sauce. Good dish. Meanwhile, I ordered my own meat feast and was not about to have got the better of the ordering. The starter was described as “breast of wood pigeon, confit pork belly and Bury black pudding” and was exactly that. Big breast of pigeon cooked rare and then sliced lengthways in two to serve. A lengthways slice of pudding had been briefly fried and was a good meaty, earthy example of Lancashire’s finest. A small slice of the pork belly was similar in texture to the rather slippery version you get in Chinese restaurants. This is a good thing, of course. The meats sat on a little heap of spinach and a light, if overly salty jus. Calves liver with bubble & squeak could have been a belter of dish. It’d have needed a more precise preparation of the liver to remove sinew but was otherwise nicely “just cooked”. It’d have needed the bubble & squeak to be bubble & squeak. But this was really just mashed potato with a little bit of greenery stirred through with no real sign of seeing any crust-inducing heat from the pan. There was a different thin and overly salty jus. Well, of course, I cleared my plate but it was not with any great enjoyment.

Judy I think then numbers are simply added up for each restaurant. So, "success" depends firstly on how many of the judges (800?) have eaten at a particular place in the previous 18 months and, secondly, how many of them thought that place was one of the seven best experiences.

Agreed, Marcus. It really does make you wonder how much use it is - other than a talking point for internet discussion boards. For instance, we're visting South Africa later in the year and had been keen to try La Colombe as it stood at 12 in 2010, having whizzed up the list by some 30-odd places from the previous year. I see it now plummets to 82.

I tend to think the "not like it used to be" is down to me becoming more forgetful as the years pass by. That said, I bought a pack in Waitrose yesterday. Not only didnt they taste like they used to, they werent the right waxy texture nor were they the usual kideny shape (not for nothing is the spud sold for home gardening called the International Kidney. Disappointing.

Mjx - Matutu had actually posted his thread to the UK dining board (and is also trying to find a different style of restaurant than the thread you linked to).

Clarke's? Launceston Place? Roast? Good grub without too much pretension. Dunno about the little touches though.

Both the Allotment and Walletts Court, as mentioned by dougal upthread, look reasonably interesting and I reckon we'll try one next trip.

One can only hope that this doesnt mean that Simon is giving up on the north west - although comments on Catersearch such as "It seems you get success and recognition a lot quicker in the South" suggests he might be.

It was a Saturday night, so no tasting menu on offer. So, that meant none of the famous home-cured ham. And none of the detailed explanations about technique or provenance. In its place, a very straightforward menu chalked up on the blackboard – perhaps the only Michelin starred place where you order at the bar. There was great bread – sourdough, soda and a garlic and rosemary foccacia. There was an onion tart – the pastry light, thin, and crispy; a layer of caramelised onions topped with a thick layer of a just set savoury cream. Served at room temperature with a slick of thick puree (ramsons?). Excellent. The other starter – even simpler in appearance and just as delicious. Fried slip sole drizzled with a little salty butter. That’s all. And nothing more was needed. For mains, a saddle of Monkshill lamb was cooked two ways. One long and slow and metinglt fab. The other quickly cooked – the meat very pink and delicious – although this meant that the fat was all but raw and inedible. A little light jus, a wodge of potato dauphinoise and some spinach finished it off. Along with an eggcup of very good mint sauce – a bit sweeter than I make at home but not suffering from it. We then both took a cheese course – a local Kent cheddar, Kinderton Ash goat from my part of the world and, somewhat surprisingly, three French ones that were OK but nothing to write home about. Chocolate mousse proved to be a clever dessert. On the bottom of the dish, a layer of salted caramel. On top a milk sorbet and this then surrounded and topped by the warm mousse. A flavour flavour combination which really worked well. The other dessert was, in fact, two mini-offerings. I had a sense they were leftovers from the previous night’s tasting menu. An apple sorbet – just the right blend of icy sweet and sharp. And a “burnt cream”. Both excellent in themselves but not really working together a an integrated plate. We finished with excellent coffee. As on our previous visit, service is entirely relaxed and there is nothing pretentious about the Sportsman. And, when your food is in this clear, simple style, your ingredients have to be top-notch. They are.

WHEELERS I’m not sure where to position Wheeler’s in my foody journey through life. It’s odd. A bit eccentric. Just twelve seats. And ramshackle seats, at that – situated in the back room of the seafood shop. And, at my age, it’s important to know the location of the loo. That’s back through the front door of the shop, turn left, turn left again, down the alleyway, third gate on your left. You work up an appetite. I’d read that service can be rude, particularly if you’re not a regular. Now, I wouldn’t say that we experienced rudeness. A touch of the eccentric, certainly. Perhaps a slightly unsettling sense that customers are on intruding on the owner’s day. But the food is damn good. There’s a range of “proper” starters but you’re going to start with oysters, aren’t you? This is an oyster bar, after all. In Whitstable. So, it was half a dozen Whitstable natives for me. Served entirely plain and needing just a squeeze of lemon. And, for herself, half a dozen battered rocks – a crisp batter made with Guinness. She followed that with a portion of grey shrimps and salad. Now, that was supposed to be a single dish , noting the “and” between shrimps and salad. However, the owner forgot to write the salad on the order and, then, when we chased it up, the kitchen forgot to send it out. Eventually it came but the shrimps were all but eaten by then. A bit disappointing (not least by the lack of any sort of apology) – although the shrimps were in absolute peak condition. I’d gone with roast cod – a new dish on the menu and it was a plate of immense loveliness. Big chunk of fish, nicely cooked flesh (although the skin needing crisping. But it was the clever use of accompaniments that really lifted this for me – crunchy asparagus, wrapped in salty Palma ham, a sweet pea puree (a few whole peas adding a bit of texture), small crisp fishcakes with a really zingy tartare sauce. We passed on desserts – making sure we had left room for dinner at the Sportsman.

Situated right on “the front” , next to the port, Au Cote d’Argent offers a perfectly pleasant and acceptable €42 menu. It’s pleasant and acceptable both in its quality and its value for money. Place was packed on the Friday night and I reckon we were probably the only foreigners. Three scallops, and their roe, were bang-on for cooking. Good crust, still just opaque in the middle. A simple fishy creamy sauce added rather than detracted from the inherent sweetness. A little scattering of caviar and some almost raw shreds of leek offered contrasting taste and texture. I followed this with a generous fillet of turbot – again simply prepared with a little sauce. It sat on the second appearance of leeks – this time long cooked and meltingly soft and sweet. Some asparagus, broccoli, potato and a rather incongruous cherry tomato accompanied. Meanwhile, my partner had gone for a half lobster, served with a very ballsy shellfish and Pernod sauce. It came with a small dollop of mashed potato which was declared to have worked well in mopping up the sauce (a bit of surprise there – as the companion in life usually despises mashed spud). There was also some leeks. Of course there was. This was followed by sole fillets, wrapped around a crayfish mousse, and the same vegetables as my dish. The mousse, although very flavoursome, was quite dense and made the whole plate seem a bit heavy and unbalanced. There was then a cheese course. A chariot of a dozen offerings, including several from the region, notably a Wissant and a Maroilles. A good range of desserts was offered from the trolley and we selected Iles Flottant and a particularly good chocolate tart – crisp pastry, rich filling. And then it was back to the hotel for an all too short sleep before an early ferry.

I’m one of those people who think there’s no such thing as the perfect restaurant experience. So, let me get the negatives about In de Wulf out of the way early on. Well, the seats in the bar area aren’t very comfortable. And that’s it. As for the rest, it was all bang-on. We liked the room; service was perfect with front-of-house taking care of cutlery, crockery and drinks, while chefs bring the food and explain what’s what about it (in English – which is just as well as our Dutch is just about non-existent). There’s only a tasting menu offered – the full menu at €120 and a slightly shorter version at €100. Of course, we went with the full monty. That starts with an array of canapés. The chefs start bringing them while you’re in the bar and they continue once you’re at the table. A beetroot crisp enclosing an intense beetroot cream; an onion beignet that was a masterclass in onion beignet making; pork scratching with mustard cream; a little biscuit topped with Jerusalem artichoke mouse and a slice of artichoke and, finally, cockles with a little scattering of herb. Then onto the main “land and sea” menu. Escabeche of sea bass, crab and celery – lovely flavours in themselves but with an added dimension of intense cold of a frosting created by nitrogen. Oysters were poached in a sauce made from local whey, enriched with mustard seeds. There was a slight strangeness to the creaminess of the sauce but it worked surprisingly well with the still salty oyster. Dover sole provided the basis for possibly the only dish which didn’t totally hit the mark. The fish, beautifully sweet, was a tad overcooked. It came with leaves of swiss chard which encased a “porridge” of millet, topped with a scattering crunchy millet. Back on form with lobster and potato. The spud adding interesting texture in that it was a very thin slice of potato, still retaining a little bite, rolled to encase a small amount of potato mousse. A little sauce and a sprinkling of foraged wood sorrel completed the plate. Cooked and raw hopshoots were an entirely new experience for us. They came with an intense bay cream , reminiscent in texture and depth of flavour of an Indonesian peanut satay sauce – but with the bay providing a really big kick of flavour. Next up, a celeriac dish was explained before being served. A whole root is wrapped in hay and then a thick salt crust before being cooked on the BBQ for four hours. Left to cool, it’s then thinly sliced and served with a very fresh local goats curd. Absolute stunner of a dish. Pencil thin leeks, sweet in themselves, were roasted and served with a honey vinaigrette, along with some parsley to cut through the sweetness and some fatty veal marrow to do the same. Perfectly tender lamb neck came with ramsons and red onions – pretty much spring on plate to my mind. And then onto desserts: - goats yoghurt served with malt and a think crispy yoghurt “meringue” set with liquid nitrogen. - chocolate ganache topped with, and perfectly complemented by, a beetroot and rosehip cream, encased in a beetroot “meringue”. This looked wonderfull and tasted none too shabby. - and to finish, a simple plate of fresh pear, pear sorbet and sorrel. Clean, crisp and refreshing. There was excellent coffee and a selection of chocolate petit fours. Throughout, flavours whilst skilfully complex, had retained a cleanness which allowed all the individual elements to be recognised. There was not a single jarring note of incompatible tastes. We visit Flanders most years to follow an interest in the Great War. That will still be the reason for future trips but now we know there’s an extra-special place to eat only a few minutes from Ieper, where we stay.

We were back at the Marquis last week - now a Michelin rising star for two years. You'll see from my above comments that the food was good but the experience was let down by poor service. Absolutely nothing has changed. We decided to take the tasting menu. It was a decision we’d later regret. Things kicked off with a couple of canapés. A little pate which was so-so. A carrot cream, with a delicate curry flavour on a crispy biscuit. A selection of good bread came – particularly nice was a caramelised onion one. We had some left to have with the courgette and rosemary soup that was the start of the menu proper. The soup had a real depth of flavour - unfortunately not a pleasant one. The rosemary made the whole dish very bitter – best described as similar to dissolving a paracetamol on your tongue. The onion bread did something to take the taste away but this was not nice. Not nice at all. But it was the only duffer. Next up, organic salmon marinated in beetroot juice – sweet, earthy and fishy all at the same time. Soused baby beetroot and a set cauliflower cream added further layers of flavour. This was lovely. Guinea fowl breast had been smoked in the car park that afternoon. It was delicious – light and delicate but with a distinctive smokiness. To contrast, there was a rich galantine of the leg and foie gras and a well rounded, sweet plum chutney. Then a fish course of roast cod with scallops and girolles. This was fab. Perfect cod – perhaps the crispiest skin I’ve ever eaten. The final savoury course brought a fillet of local Dexter beef. Full of flavour and accompanied by a heart-stoppingly rich saladaise potato and a watercress and shallot puree to cut through. The pre-dessert was a runaway success – blood orange posset with an interesting touch of star anise. Dessert proper was also the only proper sized dish. A soft and light banana soufflé came with ice-cream flavoured with tonka beans - something that Google tells me is technically illegal in America. Ahha – something interesting, with taste, is illegal in America. Blimey, that’s a surprise. So, back to the service. Well, it really just killed off any enjoyment for us. Twenty minute gaps between a plate being removed and the next course being delivered is far too long. Not only do you run the risk of running out of conversation with your partner (except for the muttering about “where’s the food) but, having only eaten a few slivers of food for the first two hours, you’ll be bloody starving. Michelin rising star or no, we’ll not be in a rush to return.

You may also want to consider Rules - which is about as "traditional British" by way of an experience as you're likely to want. London's oldest restaurant - damn good food also, IMO. Might well work to complement some of the more modernista places in your consideration. http://www.rules.co.uk/

If you still have a little gap to fill after lunch at Petersham, there's a quite civilised tea rooms just opposite Kew called the Original Maids of Honour. http://www.theoriginalmaidsofhonour.co.uk/

I second Simon's suggestion to research to avoid being underwhelmed. We spent a week in Kinsale a year or so back. It proclaims itself to be the "gourmet capital of Ireland". If true, it would be very disappointing.