Harters

Deep fried eel - as per Eddie Gilberts of Ramsgate. Fab. Piccies: http://www.doshermanos.co.uk/2010/01/eddie-gilberts-fine-food-first-floor.html

Perhaps I'm then misinterpreting the sterling efforts of his agent to get the word "Michelin" into every press mention of him. And, no, it's not just his appearance on GBM. What did it for me was the Money Programme edition titled something like "The Super Chef". Talk about self-serving, eh?

Ta for lunch info. Only really looked at the very local cheese so don't have a view about the wider range you're after.

Difficult one, based on visits to both earlier in the spring. I'd call it for Churchmouse for specifically regional; Tebay for a wider range. On a slight tangent, adey - any current lunch recc in Blackpool or immediate surroundings?

David Manc. Confidential carries a review of the Samling http://www.manchesterconfidential.co.uk/Food-and-Drink/British/The-Samling-Windermere-review_11867.asp John

David Nothing more recent than Sharrow back in April. Classic and thoroughly enjoyable, if not edge of the seat food. John

I'd also be interested to know what went wrong. Ermintrude says food was excellent and there was no complaint about the server. Have to agree though that, regardless of the nature of my complaint, I would be likely to be well pissed off at getting such a terse response.

It was probably with some trepidation that my wife suggested going to the Fat Duck as my 60th birthday present from her. And it was with some trepidation that I said that I’d love to. It was going to be a dinner unlike any other we’d eaten. It was going to be wacky. It was going to include food that didn’t sound instantly appealing. It was going to be eye-wateringly expensive. So, the reservation was made. An opportunity to mention any dietary issues had been given (and would be repeated on arrival) but we decided to “go for it” and trust that everything would be OK. And, if it wasn’t, then we could always get a bag of chips on the way home. So, there we were. Ready for anything. But, perhaps, the biggest surprise was in the whole ambiance of the place. It was extremely relaxed and, whilst service was formal, there was not a hint of stuffiness. Some diners had “frocked up”, others were dressed in jeans and polo shirts. Neither group looked out of place. We were about to start on a four hour experience of great food, theatre and just downright good fun. It will be fair to say that my wife found the meal more challenging than I did and, whilst she found all the dishes to be excellently constructed and interesting, there were several that were simply not to her taste. Apart from a couple of the courses, I liked everything. I no longer drink alcohol but a long tasting menu is always a challenge for my wife in matching wine to food. The restaurant offers a pairing which would have brought eight different wines but, if she was not to leave Bray absolutely legless, this would have to be pared down. This is when the skill of a good sommelier comes to the fore. He was able to select four glasses from the eight which, in conjunction with a champagne aperitif, kept her going all evening. And so to food: LIME GROVE, nitro poached green tea and lime mousse. Kit is delivered to a side table – plates, a bowl, a flask containing the liquid nitrogen, a pressurised bottle of the mousse. The waiter squirts nitrogen into the bowl; mousse onto a spoon and it goes into the nitro. A few seconds later, the blob has set and is plated. A dusting of the green tea. One mouthful. It feels like meringue – crispy on the outside, soft inside. The waiter squirts an atomiser of lime scent into the air. Perfect theatre. Perfect citrusy palate cleanser. RED CABBAGE GAZPACHO, Pommery grain mustard ice cream. Bread arrives before this. Nothing fancy – just white and brown. But it’s excellent bread with a good crust. It’ll be regularly offered throughout the meal. A small quenelle of the ice cream sits in the bowl and the soup is poured over. You notice the mustard first, then the sweetness of the ice cream and, finally, the distinct flavour of the cabbage. JELLY OF QUAIL, crayfish cream, chicken liver parfait, oak moss and truffle toast. The most theatrical dish of the evening. Placed in front of you is a bowl and a wooden board. On the board sits the toast. In the bowl is almost everything else. In the centre of the table is a small tray of oak moss. On this are two slivers of film of “essence of oak moss” which we’re invited to place on our tongues. They taste of, erm,, oak moss. In the bowl, there are four layers. A bottom layer of pea puree, topped with the extremely rich quail jelly, then a thin layer of the crayfish cream (in truth, not detectable to our palates) and, uppermost, the chicken parfait. You are about to eat when waiter pours dry ice onto the moss and your table is completely covered with the mist of the forest floor. It lingers while you eat. It had us laughing out loud. This is a wonderfully rich and delicious dish which I loved, the crisp truffle toast contrasting well with thr softness of the jelly concoction. It was the first dish which didn’t find favour with my wife (which meant I got “seconds”). SNAIL PORRIDGE, Jabugo ham, shaved fennel. Perhaps the best known Blumenthal dish, it was again a very rich flavour in the porridge. Neither of us had eaten snail before and we were both surprised how little flavour they had in themselves. The fennel was heavily salted and, whilst it was no doubt intended to have the predominant flavour, we were less than convinced that it worked better than a fuller pure fennel taste. ROAST FOIE GRAS, gooseberry, braised konbu and crab biscuit. Foie gras is something that we’d usually choose not to eat but we’d decided to put ethical considerations to one side and “go for it”. Of course, you cannot entirely escape your prejudices and it was, perhaps, no surprise that this simply didn’t appeal to us. Of course, it was technically brilliant – the soft richness of the liver; topped with the crunchiness of the seaweed (and something else) topping, the tartness of the gooseberry. No doubt, many customers would love this. We wouldn’t be amongst them. MOCK TURTLE SOUP. I think this is from one of the “Heston’s Feasts” programmes and was back to just damn good fun. In the bowl, a little piece of veal, a pretend egg, little dice of veg. Alongside a cup. The waiter drops the Mad Hatter’s gold pocket watch into the cup. And pours water on. You then stir and the watch dissolves into the water, forming the gold flecked stock for the soup. You pour it into your bowl and, there you are, a delicious soup of deep savoury flavours and textures. Wonderful. “SOUND OF THE SEA”. Theatre continues with the presentation of an iPod enclosed within a conch shell. You listen to the gulls and the waves lapping whilst you eat. There are slivers of raw yellow fin tuna, halibut and mackerel. They “swim” in the sea – actually a foam of fish and seaweed stock. It laps against the shore – the sand made from semolina, fried eels and vermouth. This is fab. We don’t want to take off the ear pieces. But it’s time to move on. SALMON POACHED IN LIQUORICE, artichoke, vanilla mayo, trout roe & Manni olive oil. Neither of us was keen on this dish. The salmon was wrapped in the liquorice and topped with roe and drizzled with the oil. There were blobs of the mayo dotted around and it was the strong taste of the vanilla that “did for us”. POWDERED ANJOU PIGEON, blood pudding, potted umbles, spelt. I loved this but my wife didn’t – but then she’s not a fan of game or offal. Here there was pigeon breast – two slices very soft, perhaps poached; a larger chunk fried. The blood pudding actually in the form of deeply rich thick sauce – almost the consistency of congealing blood. Separately a bowl of the umbles, in a creamy sauce, topped with crispy spelt. A masterpiece of a dish – my wife admiring the skill if not the taste. HOT & ICED TEA. A palate cleanser and Blumenthal’s witchcraft is again employed. The glass of tea, intended to be drunk in one swig, is, as described, hot on one side, iced on the other. I swigged and tasted hot tea on the left side of my mouth, whilst cold on the right. There must a gelling agent in there somehow. Burn him, burn him! MACERATED STRAWBERRIES, olive oil biscuit, chamomile & coriander. A seemingly straightforward summer dessert. Delicious berries made special by the oily biscuit and the hint of spices. There was excellent sugar craft here, in the form of a miniature plaid picnic blanket, draped over the berries. Oh, and there was a delicious jelly & ice cream cornet to eat first. Summer in a few bites. THE BFG, Black Forest Gateau. A dessert from another TV show which attempted to perfect this British classic dessert. We’re old enough to remember when this was a feature of dinner at a Berni Inn (after the prawn cocktail and steak & chips). And we don’t diss Berni Inns – this is where folk like us went for celebration meals. As for eating the creation, it was really good gateau with some kirsch ice cream on the side. And an atomiser of an indeterminate “essence of Black Forest” to spray around. WHISK(E)Y WINE GUMS. The wine gums come “stuck” to a map of Scotland showing the region from which the flavours come. Even in my drinking days, I was never a fan of Scotch and now this was just so-so. LIKE A KID IN SWEET SHOP. The Fat Duck’s offering as petit fours to go with coffee (extra charge). They arrive in a stripy paper bag – just like when you were a kid and went to spend your pocket money on penny chews, sherbet dabs and blackjacks. There was an “orange aero”. And a caramel with edible cellophane wrapper. And the Queen of Hearts – a white chocolate playing card, encasing a tart fruit filling. And a paper pouch, just like you’d buy loose tobacco – but here the baccy made from coconut but infused with tobacco flavour. Bloody good coffee, as well. So, in conclusion, how do I feel about my birthday treat? It was an evening that I’m really glad I’ve experienced. I’d eaten some outstandingly tasty and enjoyable food. I’d eaten even more outstandingly interesting food. It had been fun. And I can now say to anyone who asks “I’ve been to the third best restaurant in the world”. There’s not much more a foody could ask for.

In all fairness, I have to report that the said toursity review site (one that might advise you on your trip, so to speak), has now reinstated my review of the Italian place. No word by way of explanation, of course.

Don't think Marc's activated that part of the website (or, if he has, I'm still waiting for my password) John

I see he's got an aim of getting a Michelin star at the Hillbark. Isn't that what he said about the Church Green?

Knew you'd like it, Alan. Soon as you mentioned L'Enclume, I knew you'd have to stick Marc's gaff on your list.

Congratulations on getting through both meals. My immediate reaction is that the menus are "proper descriptions" rather than the rather cutesy plays on words that folk reported last year. I wonder if it represents a shift in emphasis.

RIVER RESTAURANT, LOWRY HOTEL Sometimes, going back to a place where you’ve had a good meal can be disappointing. Really disappointing. And we had a good Sunday lunch here last year. Tonight, service was disappointing, with gaps between courses far too long. And food was disappointing. My starter was instantly forgettable in the details. There was some cured salmon, a few thin discs of scallop and a single oyster. There were some blobs of sauce as well. Oyster was good. Remainder was indifferent The other starter, a courgette soup was fine, with a little Blacksticks cheese melted on top. Mains were monkfish and lamb. A large piece of fish, with bacon and capers, sat on spinach, surrounded by a red wine sauce and a few sauté potatoes. There was nothing there in the cooking to give any excitement or interest. Cannon of lamb was a lovely piece of meat, perfectly cooked to medium rare. Advertised as coming with rosti, the potato was a small thin disc that was nothing more than decoration. Alongside, a tasteless puree of aubergine. A side order of spinach, when it eventually arrived, was well cooked, retaining some texture and not at all watery. To be fair, the delay was acknowledged and the item was comp’d. It says something about the meal that we thought desserts were the best course. We never think desserts were the best course. A Snickers brulee came with peanut butter mousse hit all the notes you want it to hit. The mousse appeared on the other plate, along with a pecan tart and caramel icecream – a nice rich finish to the meal.

A tip for bargain eating here (and the branches in Altrincham & Sale) is to get on their email list. Often, they'll send out really good bargain offers at very short notice (i.e previous or even same day notification). The skirt steak is, indeed, a winner and will probably put in an appearance on Monday evening (we're having a family gathering to celebrate my birthday).

Courage, mon brave.

It’s a while since we were last at this long-standing Cheshire restaurant. There’s been some changes in that time. There’s new owners. There’s a sense that food quality isn’t quite what it was. Yet, oddly, it makes its first appearance in the Good Food Guide this year, with a rather generous Cooking 3. Some things haven’t changed. The cuisine remains the same. The same menu style offering a very short choice at each course. The same single sitting commencing at 8pm. And, the bit that folk will either love or hate. At Peck’s you don’t order your meal in the conventional way, at the beginning, but course by course. The servers bring a sample of, say, each starter to your table, briefly describing what it is. Your order for that is then taken. The course is then served to the whole restaurant. When that’s been eaten, the process starts again for the main course. It does mean you can avoid the envy of seeing a better looking dish being served to another table, but the whole process adds to quite a long evening. That said, the kitchen is obviously geared up to this and there is minimum delay in the actual food arriving once the orders have been taken for the whole room. Service is efficient and brought to you in a style of what we always call the “girls from the village”. Not professionals, but well trained to deliver what they have to deliver. They all seem to do this in a breathless, slightly too high pitched voice and you have feeling that if you asked them a question that wasn’t in their script, they’d be lost. On Tuesday and Wednesday, there’s four courses (plus coffee) on offer for £35 – soup, starter, main and dessert. You can bring your own wine those days for which there’s no corkage, although, like us, many seemed to be buying Peck’s offerings. Later in the week, an “appetiser” and cheese course is added, knocking the price up to £40 -£45 depending on which day you go. Once we’d been seated, the girls from the village ignored us and only a bit of waving attracted enough attention to order drinks but we then seemed to be on their radar. Bread was fine and came with butter and tapenade (neither in sufficient quantity). We both kicked off with a decent onion soup, rich in the flavour of long cooked onions. It had been strained so the consistency was quite thin but this was a good start. A starter of courgette roulade followed for my wife. It was a thin slice of roulade, with no discernable taste of courgette, which encased a mix of cream cheese and wild mushroom. Could have been quite tasty – but wasn’t. In the event, this was bland, underseasoned and an almost classic example of the poor quality “vegetarian option” offered by places that know they have to offer one but have no interest in doing so. I went with sashimi tuna. The fish sat on some rocket, surrounded by few halved cherry tomatoes and a little puddle of what I guess was supposed to be the lime and coriander salsa. My criticism here isn’t of the food itself but the quantity. What might have been fine in a multi-course tasting menu, seemed plain mean-spirited here. This mean-spirit had been there with the bread and the other starter and would seem to run through the whole of the meal. Main course #1 was bouillabaisse. Short on flavour and, again, short on quantity. Three matchbox sized pieces of fish, including rather incongruous salmon, and a couple of mussels. Came with foccacia. Main #2 was lamb shank. A decent piece of meat sat on mash, with carrot and cabbage. Nothing to “WOW” here on this plate and it would have been fine on any pub lunch menu. Pecks makes a “big thing” out of its desserts. Perhaps eight were on offer and paraded round the dining room. And, because it makes a “big thing” of it, you’re invited to sample half portions of two separate ones. Frankly, their enthusiasm is misplaced. All were of the cheesecake/gateau sort and, based on the two we had, tasted of little more than “sweet”. This was the sort of quality you’d be impressed with if it was served up in the works canteen, but that’s as far as it goes. The meal was rounded off with good coffee and petit fours. And, entirely in keeping with the spirit of Pecks, the cafetiere served exactly two cups.

Ah, if we swapping long distance eating stories read on, mes amis. Flight from Manchester to Amsterdam. Ate rijstaffel at Tempoe Doeloe. Overnight hotel. Flew home. 616 miles round trip. Furthest I've travelled just for a meal.

EDDIE GILBERTS, KING ST, RAMSGATE Fishmonger and chippy downstairs. Restaurant upstairs. There’s a menu of “proper” restaurant dishes but you can mix and match those with the standard chippy menu or their lighter options menu. So we did. Both of my partner’s dishes came off the lighter options. Firstly, a bowl of very plump cockles in lemon juice. That was it! Lovely. Perhaps from the same source that we’d seen the night before at Whitstable harbour – the cockles are dredged off the seabed and then unloaded onto a lorry by JCB “grabber”. She then had mussels in Kent cider, cream and parsley and bowl of chips. Good dish – completely unfaffed about with. If they have a signature dish, it must be the starter of a lightly boiled duck egg served with eel soldiers. A perfect combination of flavours – an oiliness from the eel, crisp breadcrumb coating, the soft unctuousness of the egg. A perfect dunking experience. I followed that with what was a very large portion of haddock and chips. Excellent chippy chips, cooked in dripping. The fish was pretty damn good, if not perfect – the batter being a little soggy and oily. Good lunch. Excellent staff. I see from their website that I'm not the only one to like the place. Jay Rayner was there earlier in the year. He waxed much more lyrical about it - but then that's why folk buy the Observer, innit

WILLIAMS & BROWN TAPAS, WHITSTABLE Decorated in a modern style that’s definitely more Andover than Andalucia, this is possibly the oddest name for somewhere suggesting it presents authentic tapas. But, of course, this isn’t authentic as in a small snack to have with your chilled fino; this is authentic as in order four dishes for the two of you and that’s your dinner. To be fair, food isn’t bad, though. The Good Food Guide score of 2 is about right. Decent olives and salted almonds provided something to nibble on while we decided what else to order. Once we had, things arrived at lightning speed, suggesting lots of prep. in the kitchen, followed by a quick warm-up in the microwave or under the grill. The star dish was roasted cherry tomatoes on garlic toast. Very simple. Very delicious – the tomato squidging nicely into the toast. Another good one was boquerones served with grilled guindilla peppers. The guindilla usually has a little chilli heat but we couldn’t detect anything here. That said, the dish still worked with the vinegariness of the fish contrasting with the oil that had fried the peppers. Tortilla lacked flavour and was poorly executed – this was just a layer of spongy egg topped with mushy potato. Albondigas were fine in themselves – good and meaty – but came in a very oily thin tomato sauce that was better off staying in the serving dish than being put in your mouth. A side order of patatas bravas was nothing of the sort. It was, however, a decent helping of deep fried potatoes and a separately served (and too small) dish of spicy tomato sauce. This could have been good if there was more sauce to give a coating to the potatoes and if the spuds had been a bit more brisk frying to crisp them up. All in all, we thought things were a bit over-priced for the quality on offer and, whilst a pleasant enough experience, wasn’t really value for money.

PETIT POISSON, PIER APPROACH, HERNE BAY Without doubt, this is a place that needs some wider recognition for its simple but exceptionally tasty seafood cookery. It’s a small place, not 30 covers, literally on the approach to Herne Bay’s pier. There’s a short menu – half a dozen choices at each course. We started with a couple of rock oysters each. Neither of us would claim to be oyster experts but, as far as can be told, these seemed to be as good an example as you might want to find. For starters proper, I went for moules mariniere (they are also on offer as a main course, with chips and “a la crème” as well). Good plump mussels, tasty broth. My wife went for what for her is a favourite dish – potted shrimps. This comes as quite a sophisticated presentation. The shrimps mixed with what seemed to be a little creme fraiche before being “potted” with a very orange butter. It came with toast as might be expected. The description also mentions cucumber – she expected slices – not a shotglass of a very intense cucumber juice. Lovely. She followed with fried grey mullet which came with smoked bacon and almonds – a lovely combination which seemed to show more of its allegiance to Catalonia than Kent. Some just wilted spring cabbage and a potato gratin alongside. Damn good. I’d gone for braised fillet of brill. Very simple with just a lemon and caper butter sauce which was bang-on. The same cabbage appeared here and worked just as well. And a couple of new potatoes. For dessert, we had a rhubarb and ginger trifle which was pretty good but could have stood more “poke” from ginger. More fun was a strawberry jam tart with mint ice-cream – biscuit basket encasing the “jam”, a few strawberries and a strip of strawberry jelly. Loved it. It’s rare these days that we go out and find an absolutely faultless meal. This was one of them.

KARL'S DELI, HIGH STREET, CANTERBURYWell, we finally got to Kent (see Sportsman thread for the review there. Other meals follow but a quick mention of a lunch in Canterbury. We were after something more snacky than formal and spotted that Karl's Deli had a few tables at the back of the shop, and a couple more in a nice little courtyard. No hot food but they'll serve you up platters of their normal shop offerings - a charcuterie plate, a ploughmans and the like. Worth a stop if you're passing. Service was a tad slow but it was a sunny day and we got to take the weight off our touristy feet for a while.

They say that if you sit for long enough at Piccadilly Circus, you’ll see everyone you know. In the food world, it’s probably the same thing with the Sportsman. I’ve read about the place many times. Everyone praises it with not a word of criticism for the food. I’m joining that club. You have to pre-book the tasting menu as it’s only offered when Stephen Harris is cooking. We started with what I suspect are the now almost legendary pork scratchings. And, oh yes, they should be legendary – a mile away from my previous experiences in dingy northern pubs. They came with a contrast – a bite-sized square of pickled herring on soda bread. Then a baked oyster in a gooseberry granita. Dead simple. Dead good. Bread came next – sourdough, soda and a fabulous rosemary and red onion focaccia. It comes with their home churned butter which incorporates their own homemade salt. The process of taking a bucket of sea water and boiling it up to get salt was explained. A salad – salamagundi – with poached duck egg. It’s explained that many of the ingredients come from their own garden. It’s fresh and seasonal – some assorted leaves, softened (but not soft) baby carrots and other veg. Grilled slip sole and seaweed butter. The fish perfectly cooked and just sliding off the bone. The seaweed giving a taste of “something you couldn’t quite put your finger on” to the butter. Then Stephen Harris came out with a plate of cured ham. He explains the pig comes from a farm just up the road and that they first tried a number of pork dishes but they just didn’t sell so he came up with the idea of turning it into ham in the style of the Spanish. It’s good. Very good. Deep piggy flavour with a good layer of delicious white fat. Of course, it’s cured in their homemade salt and this one dates from November 2008 so was perfectly matured. Turbot seems to feature regularly in reviews of the Sportsman and this meal was no exception. A small braised piece sat on some shredded green beans, surrounded by a crab bisque. I think as a dish this had it all – perfectly cooked fish, richness in the bisque, a little texture from the beans. Fab. Then the first of the lamb preparations. A piece of de-boned breast, coated in mustard and breadcrumbs. Served with mint sauce. You eat it with your hands – well, of course you do. No surprise to hear that the lamb is local. It comes from Monkshill Farm – which is owned and operated by the Royal School for Deaf Children in Margate. And, for the final savoury dish, grilled rump and braised shoulder of lamb, sat on shredded leeks. I thought the rump was fantastic until I tried the shoulder then I ran out of superlatives in my head. After all that, it was lovely to be offered a cherry ice lolly. Not least as it’s cherry season in Kent. Came in a little bowl full of cake flavoured milk. No, I can’t explain it better either but that’s what it was described as, and that’s what it tasted of. The next offering was a delight. A sweet biscuit basket filled with summer fruits and a dollop of lemon verbena ice-cream. And, finally, a plate of four further desserts – rhubarb sorbet; junket topped with flapjack crumbs; a tiny raspberry and almond tart and an intense chocolate cupcake. Service had been great – informal and friendly, yet thoroughly knowledgeable about the dishes. I started to try and find a different response for each time I was asked if I’d enjoyed a dish. I gave up halfway through the meal and resorted to “Bloody hell, that was good”.

When you’re on holiday in a small place, you end up eating in places where you’re taking a punt on quality and not always winning. Here’s a couple. EAST MEETS WEST Seemingly a bog standard high street curry house. Yet, even on the high street, you expect the food to have some spice – some zing – even if cooking is not very good and spicing is mono-dimensional across the dishes. But not here. We had sheek kebab & lamb tikka to start. Followed by a vegetable bhuna and a chicken sag. Boring. Bland and boring. No sign of any of the usual South Asian spices. Not unpleasant (apart from the considerable amount of oil or ghee that had been used) just four plates of totally pointless food. It wouldnt last five minutes anywhere else that offered even the smallest competition. ANGELINA’S Italian. And very busy. You might say it’s a bog standard high street Italian. A short menu of pizza & pasta supplemented by a “specials” board. But cooking just wasn’t up to the lowish expectations you might have. A starter of pasta amatriciana is a favourite of mine – but here the overuse of chilli totally overwhelmed any other flavour. I followed that with a T bone (something you don’t see too often these days). It was OK in taste – correctly cooked to medium rare at one side but well done on the other. Careless. Nicely decorated plate though, with rocket and blobs of mustard - a bit 1980s, if you will (but then, that decade is probably set for a revival). My partner had chosen a seafood dish also from the specials. The waitress returned to say it was “off”. So, herself ordered what proved to be a dismal pizza. Not vile, you understand, just the sort of quality you might pick up at Tesco. Service had been fine and we had no significant complaints, bearing in mind the level at which the restaurant operates. Now, I wouldn’t normally have posted here about meals like this and do so only because of what happened later, which perhaps raises an interesting subject about the UK dining scene. I had actually originally posted to a touristy review site (one I use mainly when looking for hotels here and abroad) that seemed more appropriate. No problem until I then started getting increasingly bizarre messages from two members of that board both purporting to be the owner of the Italian place. They ripped into me criticising my comments about service and pricing (bizarre – because I hadn’t mentioned anything at all about service or prices) These exchanges culminated with the owner suggesting, snidely, that I was “not what I appear” (no, me neither) and may not have even been in his restaurant. Next thing I know, the board has taken down my mildly critical review of his place but has kept on view my extremely critical review of his competitor's. Presumably it has acted on a spurious and unsubstantiated complaint from the owner that I was somehow "not kosher". Nice deal if you can get it, eh? First time this sort of thing has ever happened to me. Has anyone else ever been “chased” by an owner in this way?

YANG SING, PRINCESS STREET OK, it may no longer be thought of as one of the country’s top flight Cantonese restaurants. And, indeed, its star certainly has faded. But the Yang Sing is still packing them in. On this midweek evening, it was full. Properly full. With folk waiting for a table to become free. It was the usual mix of diners that you’d expect there – some obvious corporate entertainment groups, family parties of Chinese; Anglo couples like us. As before, we ordered a banquet and gave them a budget of “around £30 a head”, told them we like seafood, don’t want chicken or duck and, other than that, they could bring us what the chef felt like cooking for us. What we got was a substantial meal of good quality food cooked in what may be the “modern Cantonese” style but felt quite westernised. Firstly, an array of dim sum: - crispy king prawn with mayo - prawn dumpling - pork dumpling, with sweet ginger sauce - pork wonton Then a series of dishes described as the “intermediate course”: - squid in cheese batter (a bit chewy, probably frozen squid) - fillet steak roll (encasing garlic, mushroom & onion). “Gravy” over the top. Boring - scallop served in the shell, with soy, sesame & spring onion (a bit overdone but good flavour) Then the main courses, which came with a plentiful supply of fried rice: - king prawns in a cointreau sauce. Big juicy prawns. Odd sauce. - breaded & fried strips of pork belly, which wouldn’t have seemed out of place in Vienna. It’s not so much that we could find things to fault here, but this wasn’t a meal to relish. I just felt a bit let down by the Yang Sing.