Hello from Mull

So I promise to blog more regularly, leave you with the recipe for a truly excellent curry that FAILS TO LIST ONE OF THE KEY INGREDIENTS (thanks, Beth) and then disappear again in a puff of smoke.

The good news is a) the medication that I’m taking gives me a NORMAL DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. I cannot possibly convey to you how exciting that is after over a year of being nervous whenever I had to eat curry in public. And b) I am currently on holiday which is lovely. I write this from the flat we always take in Tobermory. There is a view across the harbour from the window. There is crappy television on the set. It is not long after seven and we are in PJs and drinking wine. We consumed rather a lot of seafood at lunchtime. Bliss.

I’ll be back soon, especially because I want to fill you all in on the most wonderful meal we had on the way up here, at a restaurant that sits right on the shore of Loch Fyne. In the meantime, Tobermory Cat (Ledaig to his friends) sends greetings.

2018 - the year in review

As with most years, 2018 was like the curate’s egg – good in places.  For the most part, it involved a lot of keeping on keeping on.  Work ramped up and became considerably more stressful in the latter few months for various reasons beyond my control – bad.  I struggled a bit with my continuing digestive issues which began to have an impact on my mental health – tedious beyond belief for all concerned.  But there were no big upsets, or dramas or traumas – good.  We had a couple of lovely trips away, including a few days in a little shepherd’s hut in York which I never got around to detailing on here – excellent.  Yet again, I have managed to end the year lighter than when I started it, mainly thanks to a successful re-acquaintance with WW back in the summer.  That may have trailed off a bit of late but I am keen to get stuck back into it now we are emerging from the month of December, when somehow it becomes normal to eat mince pies for breakfast.

Dishes of the year is a tough one to call.  We went back to Raby Hunt and loved it every bit as much the second time around but given that many of the dishes were almost exactly the same as the ones that we had eaten previously, I don’t feel quite right to hand over another coveted trophy to them. 

An early contender was most definitely the stunning duck dish that we had at Joro in Sheffield.  We liked it so much that we recreated it at home for our Easter Sunday lunch, and I am not convinced that our version wasn’t even better!


The duck at Joro

The duck chez nous

But, to be honest, the thing that still stands out for me is this little fellow.

Pizza, Jim, but not as we know it

This was the scallop sashimi, spring truffle and togarashi spice “pizza” that we ate in Skosh back in June.  As mentioned above, I never really got around to talking about our York trip in much detail but we were lucky enough to eat some wonderful food and this dish was just head, shoulders and upper chest above pretty much everything else we’ve eaten this year.  Put it this way: we liked it so much that we immediately ordered a second one.  It sounds weird, it sounds like everyone’s idea of badly done “fusion” but the combination of flavours, the delicately balanced marriage of the sea and the forest floor, was absolutely sublime.  Skosh changes the menu pretty regularly, so I doubt I’ll ever get to have it again.

Dessert of the year came in the closing moments, and it may sound ridiculous when we’ve eaten at some truly wonderful venues, including Il Ridotto in Venice where we were served the most glorious, challenging pudding combination of truffle, ginger and pumpkin which was as strange and wonderful as it sounds.  Yet nothing can compare to the dessert that D made me for my birthday this year – the sticky toffee parkin.  A mash-up of the traditional sticky toffee pudding and the Yorkshire parkin.  I have the recipe and I will be blogging it shortly.  If you like sweetness and spice then you will adore this, I promise.

Sticky toffee parkin

And an honourable mention to the Guinness cake that I ate during my first visit to the Rusty Shears.  The thought of this still makes me smile.

More icing than cake

At home, we’ve been dousing everything with sriracha and coriander and green chilli chutney – sometimes both at the same time.  My palate is becoming better and better at tolerating heat and I’m really beginning to learn how, like a pinch of salt or a drop of acidity, it can really bring cooking to life.  If I was going to commend one recipe to your attention this year it would be the chutney / sauce / salsa / whatever because it is such a good fridge staple.  I can think of few savoury dishes that would not be enhanced with a hefty splodge of this stuff.

As ever, I’d like to thank everyone who pops by and reads my little blog.  I still enjoy writing it after all these years, as a chronicle of adventures both at home in the kitchen and further afield.  And while it may not be a diet blog per se, it still stands as testament to the fact that I will never quite give up on trying to nudge the scales down to unremarkable levels. 

To all of you I wish a very happy New Year and here is to great things for all of us in 2019.

Foodie abroad: Venice (part 2)

I think the best thing to do in Venice is just to wander the streets and soak up the atmosphere. It’s a bit like being on a film set; at times it doesn’t feel real.

On the Wednesday, we struck out with the intention of tracking down Venice’s best cicchetti. Cicchetti is the Venetian answer to tapas: small dishes designed to be eaten with a drink. In the majority of cases we found this tended to be something-on-toast.

Our favourite was a simple whipped salt cod on toasted brown bread which we enjoyed with glasses of Soave seated next to one of Venice’s many canals (pictured top right). It’s not elaborate food, I don’t think that it is supposed to be.

D’s birthday meal aside (which I will get to shortly) Venetian food, in general, was characterised by its simplicity for me. We went to a lovely little wine bar cum bistro for dinner on the last evening and I had the most beautiful piece of grilled bream served with nothing more than a drizzle of olive oil and some simply cooked vegetables. It was perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned and a wonderful celebration of a lovely piece of fish without any bells and whistles.

I liked Venice very much and the dinner at Il Ridotto will number as one of our best ever. But I did not find it to be a foodie destination in the same way as Paris or even Barcelona. It’s all about simple dishes served with bags of convivial charm in a location that feels slightly out of time.

Foodie abroad: Venice (part 1)

I actually wrote this post on Tuesday morning sitting outside the Doge’s palace but never got around to publishing it! Back home now and more travelling tales to follow.

It cannot be said that our introduction to Venice was an auspicious one. The night we arrived, the city was experiencing the worst flooding that it had seen in twenty years. Having made it successfully from the airport to the closest vaporetto stop to our hotel we then had to wade through several feet of water with our cases held up at waist height. For about ten minutes. In trainers. And then, once checked in, we had to wade down the road to get to a local restaurant. And sit there with water up to our ankles.

Luckily today, Tuesday, the flood waters have receded and things are back to normal but the scars, and the damp trainers, remain. So my first piece of travel advice is: if you happen to travel to Venice in a flood, be sure and pack galoshes in your hand luggage.

And my second is: if you fly from Leeds Bradford airport do NOT consider having lunch in the cafe bar there. Go and get a sandwich from somewhere else and repair to the bar for wine. Otherwise you end up paying nearly £15 for this:

The world’s most indifferent fish finger sandwich.

Luckily, dinner made up for it (wet feet aside). D went for a seafood spaghetti to start:

Delicious but not quite as delicious as my ravioli al giorno. I wish I knew what went into this - some sort of blue cheese, I think, but so light and creamy with a hint of acidity from the (presumably) beetroot dressing.

I followed this with fegato all Veneziana - Venetian liver and onions - with polenta. It seemed appropriate and it was lovely. The liver was perfectly cooked, the onions sweet and soft. I am not the biggest fan of soft polenta but it seems that it is the most traditional accompaniment so went with the flow and actually quite enjoyed it (although the Brit in me thinks mash would have been better!)

We hit a Michelin starred joint for D’s birthday meal tonight so hopefully will be back with more foodie tales soon.

Rusty Shears, Whitby (my new happy place)

We took ourselves off to Whitby for a couple of days this last weekend. We booked it months ago to mark the date on which we first met (fourteen!!! years ago) but we never need very much excuse to travel across. It's the perfect place to relax, take deep breaths of chip-scented sea air and be a wee bit indulgent.

And if it is indulgence that you are after, alongside a side of whimsy and a good, stiff gin then look no further than Rusty Shears - a tea shop come House of Gin. Was there ever a more appealing combination?

It doesn't open in the evening, but the sign reassures customers that gin is served from 11am, and there is nothing guaranteed to make one feel more hedonistic than ordering gin and tonic with lunch (we waited till one o clock because spirits before noon does feel wrong). There is an absolutely massive selection - we managed to try five different ones across the course of two visits and still had barely scratched the menu's surface. Amongst them - a local gin brewed in someone's garage just up the road and a Scottish gin with a mere two botanicals (juniper and rosehip should you be interested). It was total ginvana.

But obviously sustenance is needed alongside and the menu of sandwiches, light bites and the most delicious homemade cake hit the spot perfectly. I jumped at the chance to order a Reuben on rye, a great personal favourite, and D opted for wild mushrooms on toast. Then we committed the grave error of treating ourselves to a piece of cake apiece. I say error; the cake was fantastic, sublime. My Guinness cake with a thick layer of lighter-than-air-and-sweeter-than-a-kitten's-purr frosting was perfect. D's maple pecan cheesecake was a delight. But all that sugar occasioned, unsurprisingly, quite the slump and we ended up staggering back to our room for a much needed post-cake nap. Still, that's what holidays are for, no?

There was nothing that I did not like about this place from the eccentrically nostalgic decor (Miss Marple after she'd hit the gin selection) to the enthusiastic and charming staff. Oh, actually. I'm sad about the fact that it isn't open in the evenings - we could absolutely have whiled away an entire evening and an awful lot of money there - and that it is in Whitby rather than Leeds. But perhaps, given how much I both gin and cake, it is all for the best.

Chips, cheese, chips and cheese

Heavy snow at the end of last week meant that we were slightly worried about the journey up to Mull. Luckily, the roads were clear but we were treated to stunning views like this:

It's been grey skies and rain for most of our time here; fortunately we don't come to Scotland for the weather. And, at last, this morning we have been treated to the clearest of blue skies and an island awash with winter sunshine.

As I mentioned in my last post, not much is open here. And the places that are open are offering somewhat limited menus. Which means for the last week we have basically been eating things accompanied by chips or covered with cheese.

On one occasion I ordered a macaroni cheese and it came WITH CHIPS. Just...why? Actually, the real question is why did I eat most of them...

I think it's safe to say that the 2.4 lbs I lost during the first two weeks of the year will be back on Monday and they may be bringing a couple of friends with them. Ah well. It's been a lovely, relaxing break but I am well and truly stodged out which means that I am positively looking forward to a couple of days of fasting next week (remind me of that when I'm drooping and moaning on Monday!)

2017 - the year in review

And so, Christmas has been and gone and with it the final hurrah of 2017.  I spent most of the year’s dying days snuggled up at home doing little more than watching crap on Netflix and eating chocolate biscuits.  I weighed myself this morning; up 5lbs from the beginning of December which I am quite peaceful about considering that we abandoned 5:2 and any pretence of moderation right at the start of the month.  I am hoping to get most, if not all, of it shifted by the end of January.  Today sees me on my first fast day since…well, weeks ago, and there are even rumours that the Treadmill in the Garage will be grinding back to life very shortly.  As ever, I will keep you apprised.

Before we venture forth into 2018, as always, it is worth having a quick look back.  Firstly, weight loss and health matters – I committed to 5:2 at the start of the year on the basis that:

a) I still need to lose weight

b) Weight Watchers did not agree with me anymore – the constant counting and measuring and weighing and planning was, ultimately, not doing my mental health any good and

c)  Any other formal “diet plan” would likely be just as bad. 

5:2 seemed like the answer to the problem, in that it would require fierce commitment for 2 days of the week, but the rest of the time I could pootle along as I pleased. 

Well, it has worked in the sense that I am 2 stone down over the course of the year.  It’s not what you would call an amazing result, but it is a result nonetheless, and given the number of weeks where we’ve sacked off one or both fasts for reasons both spurious and genuine, I am pleased.  I have genuinely eaten well on non-fast days – aiming for moderation rather than restriction has really helped me develop a peaceful relationship with the food that I eat for the first time in my adult life. 

And talking of eating, D and I have agreed that some of our favourite ever meals were consumed in 2017.  We were lucky enough to visit several amazing restaurants and to pick a favourite is very, very difficult. 

The stand-out, in the end, is The Raby Hunt, which we visited at the beginning of November.  It has two Michelin stars and it is not London based – the conjuction of these two facts do tend to imply quality – but we have learned that Michelin stars do not always make for the best eating or for the best dining experiences (in our opinion.  Clearly not in the opinion of the mysterious Michelin inspectors who I fondly imagine cruising the country’s dining scene in pinstripe suits).  Raby Hunt, which I wrote about here, is just absolutely fabulous.  And the dish of razor clam and celeriac and almonds is probably, probably the best thing that I ate all year.

Razor clam and celeriac at The Raby Hunt

But there are honourable mentions to be made too: the thought of the lamb at Lake Road Kitchen in Ambleside still makes my mouth water all these months later.  And we had a last minute contender in the form of scallop with fermented celeriac at TheBlack Swan at Oldstead just the other week.  It’s rather odd – I didn’t even think that I liked celeriac that much, but in expert hands, it turns out that it is rather sublime.  I probably need to cook with it a bit more.  We also absolutely adored 64 Degrees in Brighton – another superlative lamb dish, this one served with gochujang.

Lamb at Lake Road Kitchen

Dessert of the year probably, again, goes to one of the offerings at The Raby Hunt, but I can’t help but remember with very great fondness the fabulous miso caramel ice cream that we ate at Skosh in York.

Miso caramel ice cream at Skosh

Our own home cooking has, naturally, encountered new influences and ideas throughout the year (gochujang and sushi rice are now both permanent fixtures in our storecupboard), but I honestly think that one of the nicest things that I made was this summery broad bean dip.  I am already looking forward to broad bean season rolling around again so that I can make this dip by the pint.

Broad bean dip at home

We managed to make a bit more use of our extensive recipe book library, but want to ramp this up for 2018 and are aiming to cook a new dish at least once a week.  What with that and plans to visit (among other places) Joro in Sheffield and Where The Light Gets In in Stockport, I think 2018 will shape up to be pretty damn fine itself.

Return to the Black Swan at Oldstead

Happy (nearly) New Year! Hopefully everyone out there on tinternet had a wonderful Christmas and is looking forward to seeing out 2017. It's been a good year for us - we finally bought our house, we installed the log burning stove that we've always talked about, work has been challenging but rewarding, D got a much deserved promotion and, most importantly, we've eaten some AMAZING food. So much so that I'm going to do an entirely separate post about my top dishes.

But first, I just had to tell you about my birthday meal. I'm a Christmas baby, and a couple of days ago, I donned a blindfold (well, a scarf over my head) and was whisked off by my beloved on a surprise Birthday Adventure. And it really was a surprise, because the destination turned out to be the Black Swan at Oldstead, a restaurant we visited earlier this year.

Poor old D. We've had numerous conversations about our favourite restaurant experiences of 2017 and apparently I had said, on more than one occasion that the Black Swan wouldn't be my priority to revisit. Which is not to say at all that I didn't like it, just that I'd not found all the dishes to be entirely to my taste. I think that he was a bit worried as to how his choice of destination would be received - but, as he explained, many places close over Christmas, and a good meal in a nice, localish venue with attached rooms had been tricky for him to locate.

As it turns out, we were bowled over by our second visit. The service was as charming as before, the restaurant as pleasant to sit in and the food, well, the food was absolutely fantastic. I'm not sure what had changed - whether it was just that this selection of dishes just happened to suit me better, which, when you only serve a tasting menu is bound to happen - but, for me, the stars aligned and I really started to appreciate the genius of chef Tommy Banks.

Undoubted dish of the night was a scallop with fermented celeriac. It was an absolute triumph of balance - sweet scallop, earthy and sour notes from the fermentation, an underlying rich creaminess from an ethereal celeriac purée and a hit of fragrance from the vivid dill oil. I've really fallen out of love with scallop dishes recently, but this one was perfect.

The main course, again, was all about balance and the harmonious coming together of a rich velvety piece of venison and a sweet-sour sloe ketchup. The sauce alone had a medicinal quality that made it slightly odd on the palate but as soon as it was paired with meat and the dark iron of cabbage everything made perfect sense.

And a blackened apple tarte Tatin with rye ice cream - oh my lord. Buttery, sweet, salty, sharp, savoury - every element came together, contributing to a perfectly fabulous mouthful of a dessert that was both familiar and very, very new.

When I first wrote about The Black Swan I said watch this space. Now, I say go to this space and marvel at the quality of the cooking emerging from this most modern of kitchens. A fabulous way to end a fabulous year of dining out.

Notes on Northumberland

We had a wonderful few days away at the start of this month, heading up to explore a little corner of Northumberland.  It's not a part of the world with which either of us are particularly familiar, despite it not being that far away - we do have a tendency to bypass the rest of England and make straight for Scotland when we head North.  But this year we decided to go for a bit of a change, particularly since we had already identified Raby Hunt as our Destination meal. 

We booked a few nights, on my Mum's recommendation, at The Red Lion in Alnmouth.  Prior to booking we knew nothing about Alnmouth and, having spent two nights there, can report that there is really not a lot to it.  However, The Red Lion itself is a great little place to stay.  It's a pub with rooms and, while the bar looks to be quite unassuming, it has a decent range of ales and proper Posh Crisps (always a good thing) while the kitchen turns out perfectly serviceable, albeit ginormous, dinners.  I had two starters on the night that we decided to dine there, and found that to be the right amount of food; D was unable to finish his main course risotto.  That aside, our room was gorgeous, with probably the comfiest bed I've slept in all year, and the breakfast was where the kitchen really came into its own - top notch, and cooked with far more care and attention than you often find in bed and breakfast venues.

Goat's cheese and vegetable stack at The Red Lion, Alnmouth

As I said, not an awful lot else to Alnmouth - basically, a single street with the sea at one end. However, on that single street, a couple of doors down from TRL was a rather sweet little fish restaurant which I would not have any issue recommending to you if you happened to be in Alnmouth and in need of something to eat.  Which is not to say I'd necessarily encourage a special trip.  But Hooked, for Hooked it was called, served up some very well cooked fish indeed - my hake and D's sea bass were both absolutely spot on.  Accompaniments were well judged and thoughtfully prepared.  Our waiter did magic tricks at the table.  There was sticky toffee pudding for dessert.  Such things are all calculated to make me happy.

Hake at Hooked, Alnmouth

Sea bass at Hooked, Alnmouth

When we mentioned that we wanted to go to Alnwick (primarily to visit Barter Books which is the most wonderful bookshop that I have EVER SEEN and which seems to make all bibliophiles go slightly misty eyed) a couple of people mentioned the Treehouse and, indeed, one look at the website convinced D that I would insist on visiting there for lunch.  Decor-wise, it is absolutely adorable if you are slightly twee at heart (I am).  Just outside the Alnwick Garden, it is all wooden walkways and blazing fires and twinkling lights - the fact that it is a popular wedding venue came as no great shock.  The food is fine but I think you're visiting (and paying slightly over the odds) for the ambience because they're not serving anything that a competent cook couldn't make at home. 

The Treehouse, Alnwick

The gardens, and the book shop itself are both fabulous though.  I loved our day in Alnwick.  I loved the next day, stomping along one of Northumberland's beautiful, pale stretches of coach, with Banburgh Castle looming up behind us.  We also managed to squeeze in a trip to the Holy Island, driving across a causeway that was barely out from beneath the sea.  There is obviously lots to explore round there, and it is an area with which I need to become better acquainted - particularly since I hope that there are some foodier finds to be made. 

Banburgh Castle

Eat North

Street food is definitely one modern trend that I can get on board with.  I'm an old fashioned girl in many ways - I don't have any tattoos and like my music to have an ACTUAL TUNE but yep, love the love for street food.  Of course, I don't actually like eating on the street.  We were always taught at school that it is common to eat while you're walking along, and that is one lesson that stuck fast so much so that I am almost physically incapable of eating and walking at the same time.  However, as long as there is a handy bench or, preferably, a table somewhere in the vicinity of the street food van then I am there.

There are already many reasons to love Leeds's North Bar, but this summer they've given us another, extra specially big one by running, in conjunction with Leeds Indie Food, weekly events at their tap room like mini festivals - of food! We've been meaning to go for a while and finally got around to it last weekend.

Different vendors attend every time - we happened to be presented by a choice of Indian food courtesy of Manjit's Kitchen, giant arancini by the girls of Golden Balls (like your style, ladies), and kebabs from The Middle Feast.  Both of us opted for kebabs - which seemed to be the most popular choice at 2pm on Saturday - D's with chicken, mine, blackened aubergine and halloumi.  Very tasty stuff and an absolute world away from the kind of kebabs that always seem like a good idea in the early hours of the morning after one two many cocktails.

We also decided that it would be rude not to take a couple of the Porterhouse Cake Company's wares home to try.  I am pleased to be able to confirm that tahini does work extremely well swirled through a brownie.  Who knew?

It was a really fun event and they've obviously been going down well with the good people of Leeds since a further six have just been announced.  I certainly hope to get to another one before the summer is out.  Further details can be found at the website here or the Leeds Indie Food twitter feed.

And no, this is not a sponsored post, although if North Bar would like to send me a T-shirt and a box of brownies they would be gratefully accepted.  I'm not proud.

Polpetto, London

We're just back from a few days spent down South which was very nice indeed.  We got to spend time with friends and family and, of course, we made sure that we got to eat.  Although London has a distressing habit of encompassing far more nice restaurants than two people can possibly cover in a limited amount of time.  Sigh.

We decided to go to Polpetto and, in doing so, have now officially managed to have a meal at each of Russell Norman's London outlets.  I've been irritatingly enthusiastic about him before on numerous occasions - see here or here or even here.  Finishing the set has long been a cherished goal of my husband, who believes in completism (and, as such, is doing his best to visit every single Brewdog bar.  The fact that they've opened one in Brazil is a constant source of annoyance to him).

Anyway, Polpetto.  I'm not sure that I've much to add other than what I have said about Norman's restaurants before.  They're not high end dining, the decor tends towards slightly shabby whimsy, the staff towards the achingly cool.  The food is, in my experience, always delicious.

Whoever was cooking on Monday night was skilled in the art of perfect protein.  Grilled octopus skewers were the absolute highlight of the evening, the meat all at once dense and tender.  Ribbons of flank steak, tangled with aubergine and lamb's lettuce, melted on contact with the tongue.  Squid, thinly robed in batter and fried, had just the right amount of silky bounce.

Octopus!

Elsewhere there was a pizzete, the base bubbled and blistered, the top, liberally cheesed which is always a good thing.  And an orange semifreddo, liberally scattered with great, golden chunks of honeycomb which reminded me of the sophisticated lovechild of a Chocolate Orange and a Crunchie, There may have been plate licking.

Semifreddo

Sure, it's not setting the world on fire and since Polpo et al opened, the "small plate" dining experience has become somewhat ubiquitous.  I mean, we're even doing it in Yorkshire now. But it's all good stuff and I, for one, am very happy to hear that Polpo might be looking for a permanent home in Leeds.  It's the type of food that I will never tire of eating - honest, robust and tasty.

Polpetto
11 Berwick Street
London
W1F 0PL
020 7439 8627

Mr P's Curious Tavern, York

I wrote a post about the lovely Skosh a couple of weeks ago and failed to mention the other York venue that we visited that day which is equally worthy of note.

Andrew Pern is the holder of one of Yorkshire’s six Michelin stars at The Star Inn at Harome. In recent years he has started to extend his empire, and back in 2013 opened The Star Inn The City in York which I think (checks archives) that I have written about here. It’s a bit more accessible in terms of price and style than the mothership and was a very welcome addition to the York restaurant scene back in the days when not a lot seemed to be going on. Now, Mr Pern has opened a second York venue: Mr P’s Curious Tavern, and it was to here that we repaired on a sunny Friday lunchtime at the beginning of May.

It has to be said though, we were labouring under a slight misapprehension – based on the name, we were expecting a pub, and popped in for a pint and, perhaps, a sandwich. It is not a pub (even if it does boast an impressive bar with a be-yoo-tiful array of gins) rather, a restaurant serving what our waitress described as “Yorkshire tapas” which description I quite like, although I suspect many Spaniards may object strongly to the cultural appropriation. We left having consumed rather more than we were expecting (although certainly not as much as we could have done), and not really minding a bit.

The highlight was probably the potted confit duck – as the name suggests, this was gloriously rich but the richness was admirably countered by the fruit and nut topping which also added an interesting textural contrast to the silky pate.

 
Also recommended are the great big crispy, salty rings of calamari with an unbelievably moreish seaweed salad cream. I can never resist fried calamari when I see it on a menu and these were well handled.

The décor and the way in which the food was described and subsequently presented was quirky and kitsch which I personally find appealing but, I suspect, could be highly irritating to those who favour clean lines and white linen. Such people would do well to steer clear (and perhaps take themselves off to the slightly more ascetic sensibilities of Skosh). For the rest of us, there is much to enjoy here and hurrah to Andrew Pern for finding more ways to bring his celebrations of Yorkshire food to us Yorkshire foodies.


Mr P's Curious Tavern
71 Low Petergate
York
YO1 7HY
01904 521177

The Black Swan, Oldstead

To celebrate (or commiserate) the fact that D and I first met thirteen years ago to the day, on Good Friday we pootled off to The Black Swan at Oldstead, it being some time since we enjoyed a Yorkshire Michelin star. The Black Swan has built quite the local reputation over the last few years but its profile was probably raised significantly by the fact that the extremely easy on the eye head chef, Tommy Banks, appeared on the BBC’s Great British Menu last year and cooked a dish at the final banquet.

If you like your foodie destinations remote and scenic, then this one will appeal. The village of Oldstead appears to consist of the restaurant, the house in which the restaurant guests stay, and a few sheep. We did catch sight of a couple of runners on the surrounding lanes who presumably came from somewhere, but it was certainly not obvious as to where. Oh, and further Instagram opportunities abound just down the road, where can be found a picturesque ruined abbey.

There is a relaxed bar area downstairs with a fireplace and a broad sweep of gleaming bar (sadly no cat – every country restaurant should have a cat) and then upstairs the restaurant proper spread across two rooms. It had a lovely, relaxed feel to it – well spaced, well sized tables (terribly important), an eclectic playlist that was set at just the right volume and the most charming set of waiting staff I’ve come across in a long time.

Gin and tonic

And what of the food? Well, the surrounding gardens are the source of many of the ingredients and the Black Swan’s whole ethos appears to be very much tied to local, seasonal eating. These terms are in danger of becoming clichéd but I certainly got the sense that, here at least, they were genuinely meant and that the kitchen strives to make the best of the land on which it sits. GBM fans may remember that Banks’s banquet dish was a celebration of the art of preserving and, sure enough, throughout the place were scattered jars of pickles and gently infusing fruit schnapps. The main constituents of one of the dishes, beetroot cooked in beef fat, had been harvested months earlier and then stored in a traditional clamp. Little things like this, that serve to root a restaurant’s food in place and tradition, are very important to me.

Beetroot

It may be another cliché, but I sensed a definite hint of Scandi in the style and sensibility of the cooking. Some of the flavour profiles reminded me of dishes I ate at Noma, as did the often sparse yet elegant presentation. This was particularly true of the sweet courses which eschewed traditional, hearty British desserts for something lighter, brighter and verging on the savoury at times. I adored the Douglas Fir parfait with sheep’s milk sorbet which sparkled on the tongue; the petit-four, a cake made from artichoke, chicory root and thyme was slightly less successful: it was interesting rather than delicious and I don’t necessarily want my cake to be interesting.

Douglas fir parfait

Slightly unfortunately, the high point of the meal came, for us both, with the very first mouthful – an amuse bouche (thus, doll-sized) tartlet of smoked eel and Lincolnshire Poacher. This was a single bite of utter deliciousness and set the bar so very high that none of the subsequent dishes managed to surpass it. A few came close: the afore mentioned Douglas Fir dessert, a venison tartare with onion puree which danced on the edge of being too darkly rich, a hazelnut and chicory parfait lollipop. It was also nice to see a chicken main course; served with a selection of aliums and draped with new season wild garlic, it was a salutary reminder that chicken, when responsibly reared and beautifully cooked, is a heavenly thing. It missed out on the top spot though because we both felt that some sort of additional element on the plate was required for perfection – I actually felt the lack of some sort of crispy, salty little potato element, but then I’m always slightly sad to see a plate without carbs.

Smoked eel tartlet 

Venison tartare

Minor quibbles aside, the general consensus was that this was very good indeed. To be honest, I’m not sure that it pips 64 Degrees in Brighton to the Year’s Best Meal (so far) but that is a question of personal taste rather than execution and there is no doubt that there was some serious skills on display here. Some of the most incredible meals I have ever eaten – my two favourite experiences remain Eleven Madison Park in New York and Five Senses in Barcelona – were made so because I believe that something genuinely exciting happens when a chef manages to look both forward and backwards, inwards and outwards. I think that Tommy Banks is such a chef, which, it therefore follows, means that The Black Swan has the potential to be such a restaurant. It is not there yet, but since he is the youngest holder of a Michelin star in the country, he has bags of time on his side and an establishment that is perfectly placed to enable him to achieve exciting things. Definitely one to watch.