Harters

Makes sense. In comparision with how many folk might read a review in a national newspaper, the number visiting most blogs must be tiny. But, I assume, most bloggers would not regard themselves as being in the same "business" as newspaper reviewers - for one it is a profession, for the other a hobby. I have no interest in starting a blog (although I gather it can get you freebie invites to places) and am content with posting my notes about meals we've had on egullet, Chowhound, local sites as the mood takes me, as well as sending them off to the Good Food Guide (which I've been doing for some time before I discovered internet discussion boards).

Oh, please folks - can we not get to quoting TripAdvisor as arbiters of good food. I'm happy to post hotel reviews there but most restaurant posters wouldnt recognise good nosh if it jumped up and kicked them in the bollocks.

SAMUEL FOX INN, BRADWELL, DERBYSHIRE Although it’s a pleasant enough drive, if it wasn’t for its entry in the Good Food Guide, we wouldn’t have been making a nearly 60 minute schlep to have lunch there. And, truth be told, having eaten there, you really do wonder about its slot in the Guide. There must be many dining pubs that offer up this sort of food and, even in our limited experience, we know that there’s a goodly number can do it better. Some can do in much better and, seemingly, still not find a place in the Guide. It’s a pleasant enough pub, away from the main village, with most of the space set out for eating but the second smaller room retained for drinkers. There’s a decent looking dining pub carte, as well as a very good value set menu offering two courses for a tenner. But it was towards the carte and specials board that we looked. Ham hock and chicken terrine was OK. A tad cold from the fridge – a midweek lunchtime service must be their quiet time so they probably don’t get stuff out unless there’s a customer (we were the only ones). There was toast, a little bit of salad garnish and some homemade piccalilli which was mustard zingy, as you’d hope, but the vegetables were soft. Cream of broccoli soup looked the business but tasted of pretty much nothing. The accompanying bread was oddly crisp on its upper side – at a guess, the plate had sat for a while under the hot lights of the pass. Speaking of sitting for a while, that’s exactly what we now did. For quite a while. In due course, an explanation and apology came. It was my chips that were the problem. Not the chips themselves, but rather the cooking of them. The fryer had either gone on the blink or had not actually been switched on. When they finally came, they were pretty good, sitting alongside a juicy, tasty piece of flat iron steak. Google tells me this is an American term for something Brits call “butler’s steak”. Well, not this Brit – I’d never heard of either description before. I’d like to see it on more menus so I can order it again. Also on the plate, the classic accompaniments of mushrooms and tomato. And a béarnaise sauce that simply wasn’t like any béarnaise I’ve had before, nor want to again – I wasn’t quite sure what it tasted of, but it was perhaps an attempt at a flavoured butter – which might have been an OK substitute if only it had properly tasted of tarragon, instead of the herb only being wafted in its direction. On the other plate, slow cooked lamb shoulder was as good as you’d hope to cook yourself at home. There was some thinly sliced creamed cabbage. And what the menu said was going to be dauphinoise potatoes, but wasn’t. Instead, a single small piece of potato, perhaps roasted a bit, or deep fried. Desserts? No thanks, we’ll pass and get coffee and a biscuit at home.

This morning, we’ve been modern day hunter/gatherers. By which I mean that, for the first time in months, we’ve been to the area’s biggest farmers’ market. And come away laden with goodies from four counties. From Cheshire, a pound of Mr Bourne’s mature Cheshire. A superb piece of cheese with just a hint of blueing. And a jar of Granny Haworth’s blackcurrant jam from Eddisbury Fruit Farm. Mrs Haworth doesn’t do the markets any more but she’s a lovely lady if ever you come across her in the farm shop. Cumbria, in the form of the Border County Foods stall, turned up a coil of Cumberland sausage and a pack of pigeon breasts (I’ll freeze them in packs of two for a starter based on a Fearnley-Whittingstall recipe). Austin Davies' game offerings will only improve over the next couple of months, so we'll be back. Yorkshire came up with Tayberry jam and lemon marmalade, made by the fair hands of Bob Thorpe for the Country Markets stall (that’s the Women’s Institute stall, as was – before they let men in). And honey from Holmfirth. But it was the several stalls from Lancashire producers which weighed us down. Wimberry pie from Park Farm at Walmersley; some crumbly Lancashire from Leagrams (we passed on the more mature 2 and 5 year old "Bob's Knob"), half a kilo of Dexter mince from a stall whose name I forget. More meat from Holts from Rossendale who only farm and sell lamb – chops, liver, and a good looking small boned and rolled loin for roasting. There was a couple of R S Ireland’s excellent black puddings to go in the freezer (and I managed a second breakfast of a black pud barm). And, because the market isn’t one regulated by the National Association, some folk can travel quite a long distance to sell here. Perhaps the longest journey are the Beef Direct people who come from Anglesey, easily 2.5 hours. It’s worth their while as they sell excellent meat, not just beef, and are justifiably popular on the market. We came away with braising steak and shin.

Then again.......don't. It's closed within the last few days.

RED LION, HIGH LANE, STOCKPORT It may well be in a pub building, have a pub name, and have a small drinking area but by any usual standards, this is a restaurant. And, when you know that it’s owned by Steve Pilling, you spot the menu similarities from when he ran the two chop houses in Manchester. Straightforward food, cooked well, which nods considerably in the direction of traditional British dishes. Good stuff and it’d been on our “to try” list for far too long. There’s little to say about potted shrimps, except that they were well seasoned with a little hint of spice. They came with a small handful of leaves and a couple of slices of toast. Smoked haddock kedgeree was the other starter – well cooked rice, lots of fish flakes, a judicious use of the curry spices and a perfectly poached egg, which sloshed over everything else when I cut into it. Really nice. A burger is a burger is a burger. It’s the additions which can break or, in this case, make it. There was crisp smoked bacon, a punchy cheddar, sliced tomato and onion. And, probably because this is a Pilling gaff, there’s none of the soft pappy burger bun that falls apart in your lap when you first bite into it. Oh no, this one comes on a proper northern barm cake. Usually served medium to medium rare, my partner is funny about mince products and prefers them well done. It didn’t seem to harm it too much. There’s decent chips (albeit of the “fat” variety) and not so decent coleslaw, that was quite watery. It’s years since I’ve had a steak and kidney pudding. A bad gristle experience with a Hollands one from the chippy put me right off them. But, it was time to overcome my blind prejudice. A thick and nicely solid suet pastry packed with long cooked steak and a little (too little) kidney. A jug of gravy moistened it all up. Mushy peas and the same fat chips on the side. This was a main course plate that shouted to me that I’d need a nap afterwards. These four dishes were off the main menu. But there’s a stunner of a lunchtime bargain that we’re going back for. A table d’hote of starter, main course, glass of wine - £25 for two. They change the TdH every couple of weeks apparently. You’ll have gathered I liked it here. But it reminded me that a return visit to Pilling’s Damson restaurant at the other end of town is well overdue.

Gawd knows what they might charge if they served Ferran Adria's lager.

Tiny sea snail type thingy. Not very tasty to my mind. Had them as part of an otherwise very good "fruits de mer" in Calais a couple of years back

I think it's Bosi's "thing" to be including vegetables in his desserts. Last time we were at Hibiscus (12/10) there was an apple & celeriac pre-dessert. We weren't thrilled with it.

Eating out regularly (once a week) is something that has only come to me in later life and, even more specifically, since retirement (on the basis that, as they say, you cannot take it with you). I enjoy "posh" meals but cannot regularly afford them so the vast majority of our eating experiences are of the pub/bistro/ethnic sort of place. Even so, we eat out with more regularity and, generally, spend more than anyone else we know amongst family, friends and acquaintances. We spend within our means on things which give us pleasure, whether that is meals out, food at home, holidays, etc. I have never considered that there was a moral issue with that.

How was the food, David? I'd been a big fan of Bosi's food when he was at Ludlow but was unthrilled the second time we ate at Hibiscus in London. That's a couple of years back and we've not been back.

Online, I have a soft spot for Mark Garner - Manchester Confidential's "Gordo". Not a man to take himself too seriously.

I really only come across Jay Rayner as the Observer is the only paper I regularly buy.

Yep, the Swan has closed but I gather there's another opened in Liverpool.

Sportsman's always on our visit list when we're passing through Dover for the ferry.

MARCO PIERRE WHITE STEAKHOUSE I sometimes wonder what sort of involvement sleb chefs have with places where they have their name over the door. In this case the answer is pretty much given on the restaurant’s website – “Marco has personally visited his Chester restaurant on a number of occasions since opening” (February 2010, by the way). Not very hands-on then. Let’s think of it then as a steak restaurant attached to a hotel. Much in the same way as Beefeaters are attached to Premier Inns. So, why have we had a 40 minute drive for steak and chips. Well, it’s the name over the door, innit. The Doubletree hotel in which the restaurant sits is a restored 18th century house and it looks as though a fairly sympathetic job has been done. Of course, there’s a very modern and corporate hotel entrance but the restaurant space appears to have retained some original architectural features. It’s a pleasant, comfortable and generally well decorated room, although the fecking big photos of MPW that adorn the walls do nothing to aid digestion. Prawn cocktail (or “cocktail of prawns” as the menu has it) was an exemplary version – crisp lettuce, a generous offering of prawns (albeit bog standard defrosted frozen) and a well made, tangy marie rose sauce. But, at over nine quid, they really see you coming. It’s an issue across the menu with items seeming to be a couple of pounds or so over what you feel is right. Potted duck was excellent. A little Kilner jar filled with duck pieces – a consistency somewhere between rillettes and chunks. It came with a few salad leaves, toasted sourdough and a few Agen prunes. All in all, a lovely balanced dish. Needless to say, it was steaks for mains. Sirloin and ribeye. Good meat (apparently 28 day aged). They come with classic accompaniments of grilled tomato and onion rings. And, unusually for the UK, they manage to find tomatoes with a good tomatoey flavour and a crisp batter on the onion rings that, when you bite into them, the noise could probably be heard in Runcorn. Oh, and the chips were really good. We took an extra order of roasted veg – red, green and yellow pepper, red onion, courgette and squash. The only disappointment here was the béarnaise sauce which had no discernible tarragon flavour. We skipped dessert. Coffee was good but lukewarm. Service had been attentive and had been delivered in the slightly giggly, slightly breathless voice that young women seem to deliver restaurant service these days. A pleasant enough evening although whether worth the 40 minute drive to make a return visit is doubtful.

The San Pellegrino always provides some talking points

£8400 raised. 12 guests.

I doubt whether herself, a Salford girl through and through, would take kindly to a celebratory meal being at a chippy. Never been to the Golden Hind as I'm usually staying near to Masters Superfish

I'm starting to have a think about the meal that Mrs H & I call the "office Christmas party". We've already decided on a couple of nights "dahn sarf". Need I look further than the Ledbury for the meal?

BOLLYWOOD MASALA We’d gone into town with the intention of eating at Akbar’s. However, the place was heaving with folk waiting for a table and we decided to knock that idea on the head. We’d passed Bollywood a few doors down and thought “Sod it. It’ll do”. This may not have been our best ever decision. The signs were there as soon as we looked at the menu. Every main course dish seemed to be named after a Bollywood star. Hmmmm, I’ll have a nice plate of Dileep Kumar, then. Poppadums came quickly, along with a tray of overly sweet chutneys. But that was the only thing that came quickly until we asked for the bill. Twenty minutes must have passed before orders were taken and easily that before starters arrived. Chicken chaat was pleasantly spiced and with a nice zing from coriander but the bread on which they sat was soggy and oily. Vegetable samosa was pretty much a high street curry house offering – crisp pastry but unremarkable. An age then passed before the crockery was taken away and a further age passed before main courses arrived. The Dileep Kumar – no, I wasn’t kidding about the names of the dishes – was their version of a lamb handi. Good tender lamb with fairly interesting spicing of which ginger was very much to the fore. Google tells me that Shahrukh Khan has won more Best Actor awards than any other Bollywood star. But I’m not sure that the dish they name after him would even be in the running for a nomination for Best anything. The same tender lamb, and green peppers, came in a thickish sauce in which the only discernible spice was chilli. It didn’t feel that it was at all a balanced dish. Rice was good, but tandoori roti were poor with no hint of crispness or charring to them – just big chapattis really. So, no it wasn’t that good. Better than schlepping to Rusholme, of course, but there’s a reason why Akbars was heaving and Bollywood Masala wasn’t.

Just had a couple of supermarket own label. And very nice they were too, smothered with Bonne Maman raspberry conserve.

BULL'S HEAD, MOBBERLEY, CHESHIRE Along the original Mobberley to Knutsford road stands the Roebuck, a past Cheshire dining pub of the year. Directly opposite is the Bull’s Head which, as far as I know, has never won owt. But it puts up a valiant attempt to offer good pub food. We went straight for main courses. A Cumbrian veal chop was on the thin side and, for me, a bit overdone. Tasted fine though. It came with finely sliced leeks braised in cider and sautéed new potatoes, both of which were good accompaniments. Herself went with the homemade individual steak and ale pie. Good crisp pastry, packed with tender tasty meat which had been cooked in “Mobberley Wobbly” bitter, brewed for the pub by Tarporley brewers, Weetwood, I gather a pint of it worked well on its own. Came with good chips and minted, slightly mushy peas. And a little jug of gravy which was welcome as the pie contents would have been a bit on the dry side otherwise. A pleasant enough lunch but, in truth, if you’re only having one meal in Mobberley, go to the Roebuck.

Michelin stars come and go. And so do chefs. The Samling has just appointed Ian Swainson as its new head chef. Ian was recently acting head chef at L'Ortolan and had previously worked at La Becasse. http://www.northwestcaterer.co.uk/2012/07/06/swainson-new-head-chef-at-samling/

HICKORY's They do steaks but that wasnt the reason for an 80 mile round trip to eat there. it was the barbeque that sold it to us. I wonder if American style barbecue might be set to become the next “Big Thing” in the UK. Heck, even Jay Rayner has reviewed one gaff (somewhere dahn sarf, I seem to recall). When we were at Southern 11 in Manchester a little while back, it was doing good business and, in Chester, on a wet summer evening, Hickory’s was very busy. Of course, what you are getting at both of these is generic barbeque with nothing of the regional differences that you see in the States – beef in one region, pork in another: tomato based sauce here, mustard based there and so on. Starters were pretty good. There were the cutely named Frickles – slices of dill pickle battered, deep fried and served with a mild horseradish dip. Burnt Ends is not the most appetising name that I’ve come across for a dish but here again the deep frier was in action – chunks of beef brisket were coated in a spicy crisp crumb. That came with a poky dipping sauce – tomato based, sweetened and with a chilli kick. They’ll sell you a bottle of it to take home as well. The brisket was first up on the main courses and was about to be the better of the two. Thin slices of exceptionally tender meat with a hint of the smoke, mixed with the dipping sauce. It worked very well. Pulled pork is my regular order in America and it was no different here but I felt it was lacking. Truth be told it was lacking in quantity but the restrained offering is somewhat disguised by topping it with a layer of BBQ baked beans. Have to say, I wasn’t keen on the mixed presentation, as it tended to blur the flavours of both elements. And I was even less keen to see it served in a “mess tin” rather than on a plate. It was just odd – perhaps a gimmick too far. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy it. Of course I enjoyed it – but I could have enjoyed it an awful lot more. Both dishes came with coleslaw and very crisp chip-sized chips, so full marks there.