Lake Road Kitchen, Ambleside

Great cooking is, in my opinion, an art form – possibly unique in the fact that to be truly great it has to work across nearly all of our senses at any one time. Thus it is that when you are trying to assess an excellent meal, you have a certain amount of responsibility to try and separate the subjective from the objective. Except that when it comes to Lake Road Kitchen, I’m having real trouble because I loved it so much. It was one of those occasions where I felt that the chef and I obviously shared a sensibility with regards to food which meant that, with the exception of one dish which happened to be based around an ingredient that I don’t much like (sweetcorn), I adored everything – and even the exception I appreciated and admired.

The owner and head chef James Cross, as appears to be de rigueur these days, did a stint at Noma and the influence is exceedingly apparent: the ingredients are as local as possible with many coming from the restaurant’s own kitchen garden, others foraged from the local countryside (which, given that the place is in the heart of the Lake District is both beautiful and bountiful). The restaurant’s interior has a stripped back, Scandi feel – clean lines, pale colours, plenty of wood. But although the dishes often appeared to be similarly simple and even ascetic in their presentation, this was entirely deceptive and most ate as well as any food you will find in this country at the moment.

Hard to pick highlights, but I would walk back to Ambleside to eat the slow cooked octopus again. I have never had octopus like it – the slow cooking had enhanced the firm, meaty quality of the flesh before it was brought to life by a robust searing on the outside to give it texture and smoke. The fermented wild garlic puree accompaniment had us both swiping our finger around the plates to catch every drop.

I need to mention the lamb as well because I have genuinely never, ever had lamb like it. It was stunning. Herdwick, a local breed had been dry aged for 50 days (a technique more commonly applied to beef) to give a depth of flavour that I have simply never encountered before, not to mention a texture as silky as butter. The couple at the table next to us sent it back for being undercooked and, yes, the rack turned up at the table far rarer than is, perhaps, commonly seen but one mouthful would have confirmed to anyone that not a further second of cooking was required. It was utterly magical.

I’m often a bit anti modern puddings, being firmly of the opinion that the sticky toffee has yet to be bettered. But even here I was to be confounded – the buttermilk pannacotta with blackberries and foraged herbs was a perfect marriage of dreamily soft, barely set cream and the deep, darkly sour punch of fruit with sorrel, lemon verbena and chervil adding a completely new note that spoke of the autumn and the damp, delicate scent of the hedgerows. This almost has me convinced that pannacotta is a dessert worth ordering.

Lake Road Kitchen are only open Wednesday – Sunday and they only offer a tasting menu (five or eight courses with cheese supplement available). The menus change to make the best of the ingredients on offer, although we were told that they keep a note of what customers have eaten to ensure that when they return they get an entirely different set of dishes. This strikes me as above and beyond the call of duty, but is in keeping with the charming and extremely attentive service that we received throughout out time there. I honestly can’t recommend this place enough – the Lake District has always been somewhere to go to seek out culinary gems (L’Enclume, anyone?) and this is one of the shiniest that I have encountered so far.

Lake Road Kitchen
Lake Road
Ambleside
LA22 0AD
015394 22012

Foodie Abroad: Simon Rogan at The French, Manchester

I think that Simon Rogan might be my favourite chef which I am sure that he is delighted about.  Clearly, if I am the type of overwhelmingly pretentious person who thinks that having a favourite chef is an actual thing, I am a fan worth having.

If you’ve ever eaten at his restaurants though, you’ll know what I mean when I say that he is someone whose every dish is a paean to the particular qualities of its component parts.  Sorry, that is an appallingly written sentence in praise of food that is anything but.  It sounds like it should be obvious that ingredients are the focal point of any plate but too often, especially in very modern restaurants, technique seems to have supplanted them as king, and the foams and gels and spheres and whatnots just end up adding layers of obfuscation that gets in the way of the natural flavours and texture.  Simon Rogan can do all the whatnots, but never at the expense of the wonderful ingredients he is using, many of which comes from his own dedicated farm in Cartmel.  And while The French, situated as it is in a busy central Manchester hotel, does not have a farm of its own, the hostess did tell us that they have put poly tunnels up on the roof to grow herbs and vegetables to supply to the kitchen.  Commendable stuff.

The choice for dinner is simple - six or ten courses.  OBVIOUSLY we opted for ten because we are greedy and covetous.  There was some definite loosening of belts around the halfway point and we did not so much walk as roll out of there but nearly every mouthful was worth the discomfort.

I say nearly because, in an unusual turn of events, D took violently against one of the dishes, to the extent that he just refused to eat it.  This was the final dessert course - the "Lancashire coals" (or toasted liquorice cake) with fennel.  It was very, very heavy on the aniseed and although I didn't hate it, it is not something I would be in a terrible hurry to eat again. 

The offending "Lancashire coals"

Elsewhere though, the meal was a treasure trove.  We loved the little selection of nibbles brought over at the start - especially the dainty rye toasts with cream cheese and the cheesy baked potatoes with a liquid centre that I, of course, managed to squirt everywhere by not popping it all in at once.  And from then on it was one spectacular dish after another - although particular highlights for me were the quail eggs with leek, kale and mustard:...

Egg, veg and mustard!

...and the roasted hake with cauliflower and mussels:...

Hake, cauliflower, mussels!

...the latter of which I am minded to try and recreate at home.  The swede dumplings in duck yolk sauce were amazing as well with a remarkable texture, achieved by using a Japanese starch called Kuzu (yes, we are the annoying customers who ask questions about every single dish).      

Dumplings!

So, digestive problems and unappealing pudding aside, another fabulous dinner at the hands of Mr Rogan - or, since he is probably quite busy elsewhere at the moment, one of his trusty lieutenants.  I am so pleased that he will be getting a permanent home in London because it will bring his extraordinary food to a wider audience and perhaps get L'Enclume the third star it so richly deserves.  In the meantime, he has a devoted fan girl in me - which, as we know, is almost as good.

The Midland Hotel
Peter Street
Manchester 
M60 2DS 
0161 236 3333