Review: Whatley Manor, Easton Grey

Tofu and caviar

Tofu and caviar

The infusion of Japanese and east Asian ingredients and techniques into modern British high-end dining is in full swing, and the work of chef Niall Keating at Whatley Manor is a pretty spiffy example.

Lime and parmesan crackers were a great start: two ingredients I don’t think I’ve ever seen listed together, but the perfumed lime and nutty parmesan married really well. A couple of nibbles later, a beautiful piece of turbot balanced on a crisp wedge of pear was less of a happy marriage. It sorta makes sense on paper, but the scrunch of the fruit was all wrong with the toothy piece of raw fish.

Tuna and kimchi

Tuna and kimchi

That was a rare mis-fire, though. I particularly loved a white disc of silken tofu, like a savoury pannacotta, with a scoop of Exmoor caviar on top and a warm chicken broth because tofu loves umami. Raw tuna and kimchi in a delicate pastry basket was my “ok, I’ll take ten of these!” dish. Genuinely impressed with how little they’d toned down the funky kimchi hit, given how often a crisp white tablecloth is taken as an excuse to take all the punch out of oriental sauces and combinations.

We enjoyed about a dozen courses in all. The main of pigeon was less exotic than the preceding starters, but beautifully cooked with a charred lettuce accompaniment and a good, deep, gravy. Big fan of the pre-dessert; a good clementine sorbet with generous black truffle shavings and a couple of shiso leaves. Now that’s what I call fusion! The main dessert was a very pretty apple dish.

Pigeon

Pigeon

Shout out to Whatley’s sommelier, who was very helpful and really knows his stuff. The wine list was on the expensive side, perhaps not surprisingly, but our selections all turned out to be superb. The tasting menu is £110 without wine. It’s also worth mentioning that Whatley Manor is an elegantly bucolic spot for a meal. From my experience, it’s a menu high on invention, and if a few of the plates aren’t quite masterful yet then that’s quite made-up for by the obvious love of experiment. I’d say the price is fair and I’d recommend a special trip.
Apple pud

Apple pud

Review: Mowgli, Birmingham

Chat bombs

Chat bombs

I love the arrival of Indian streetfood in the UK. It’s such a breath of fresh air after the decades of meat-in-sauce curry house cooking that was all you could find anywhere unless you went for the handful of fine dining Indians that started to appear in the late 90’s.

That said, I found Mowgli to be a terrific disappointment. I’m reviewing my second visit, but the different dishes I had on my first gave me the same impression. Part of the disappointment, perhaps, is just that I really wanted to love them, as they seem to have an earnest and honest presence on social media while they start to expand themselves beyond their apparently much-loved birthplace in Liverpool.

Mowgli

Mowgli

So, we start with chat bombs. And they are nice, light, crisp shells. But the filling is mostly sweet and creamy, nowhere near enough fire and sour to balance it out. Our other pick from the street food side is treacle tamarind fries. Well… not really fries, they are chunks of potato. They might have been sauted, but the sticky coating has removed any crispiness. Certainly sticky and treacly, but again sweet is the main flavour with not enough sour tamarind to balance it. An entire dish of them is just a bit much.

On to mains. In spite of the cute “it’s street food, it arrives when it’s cooked!” message from our server at the outset, on both my visits it basically goes starters (the street food) and then mains (the rest of the menu). They could just say that.

Tomato-y potatoes

Tomato-y potatoes

The house keema is… mince, with some chickpeas, and a generic spicy gravy. I really had hoped it might hum with flavour and build warmth in my mouth. It’s inoffensive. The potato curry is poor. It’s chunks of potato in a tomato sauce. In fact, it’s exactly the same as the first potato curry I ever made as a student. An attempt I was very disappointed with, even all those years ago, because it didn’t taste like a proper curry; it just tasted like cooked tomato with some heat.

The rice and breads are fine. The rose and cardamon lassi is good enough, though the cardamon flavour is very hard to detect. The dining room is beautiful, modern, fun, and has people queuing up to get in. It’s a nice place for a bite to eat with friends. If you are an aficionado of great Indian cooking, it’s not for you. Check out 3Bs in Cardiff!

Tamarind fries

Tamarind fries

Review: Bellita, Bristol

Pulpo!

Pulpo!

I’ve already reviewed the classic Bell’s Diner, an absolute pin-perfect neighbourhood bistro. And now I’m jotting down a few words about their other outpost in another Bristol neighbourhood: Bellita. A bit more bijou, more of a bar with a menu, but every bit as adept with the Mediterranean small-plates.

We had a masterfully cooked bit of octopus, truly generous chunks of tentacle with exactly the right meaty texture. The smoky aubergine puree with olives and lemon would have been an excellent tapa on its own but accompanied the cephalopod perfectly.

Panisse are more of a snack: soft little chunks with a crispy polenta-dusted exterior and a creamy soft interior. Dressed with an anchovy and vinegar dressing they are insanely moorish.

Turnip

Turnip

And then there’s an entire white turnip, presented whole and steaming. Of course it is soft and wet inside, terrifically soothing with the gentle sour brassica tang at the back. The salad of winter leaves with persimmon and hazelnut is tasty as a side dish.

Finally, the star of the show. Hake head with aioli. Seeing that on the board I couldn’t not order it. I had no idea he’d be such a monster! Not something I’d like to meet in his element. But on a plate I can cope, and by the time I’d skilfully picked and winkled around the bony skull I had a pile of silky translucent meat bigger than a handsome fillet and arguably more tasty (and all for a fiver – how crazy is that?).

Bellita is just as good as Bell’s and just as great value. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend either to anyone needing a great bite to eat in Bristol.

Haaaaaake!

Haaaaaake!

Review: House of Trembling Madness, York

House of Trembling Madness

House of Trembling Madness

Not really a proper dining review, as will become clear, but everyone who visits York ought to be aware of this iconic hidden gem.

House of Trembling Madness? It’s an homage to “delirium tremens” or “DTs” – the shakes you get if you’ve really done yourself some serious over-drinking. And you could easily do that downstairs here, in an absolute cavern of beery goodness. I’ve never seen such a well-stocked beer shop, and I’ve seen a few! There’s a nice collection of spirits in the basement too (woooOOOOooo!), but the fun part is upstairs.

Upstairs is the “pub” although I think their own description – “medieval drinking hall” – is far more accurate. It certainly looks the part, with a wood-beamed ceiling and old timber crucks forming the walls at either end, an entire wall covered in the trophy heads of an eclectic collection of beasts from antelope to canada goose, and a dense maze of small wooden tables surrounded by high-backed chairs that you imagine a skald might sit at to sing a song of legendary battles. The only thing missing are rushes strewn on the floor.

This being York, the history is real. Those walls and the ship beams holding them up are over 800 years old. Medieval literally as well as thematically.

As you’d expect, the beers on tap are all eclectic and from small breweries. Mine was a “ganache stout” which was sweet and richly delicious. They have a good selection of food suitable for a beery evening, from pies and burgers to snacks and sharing platters. And in a very civilised manner they serve food at all times, believing (as their website says) that making sure drink can always be partnered by food is the best way to chip away at the sh*tty drinking culture in this country.

Platter

Platter

Except we showed up for some dinner (and a beer) at 10:20pm on an evening when they had been so busy that they had literally sold every hot thing. And at 10:20pm this really was the only alternative to McDonalds. The barman couldn’t have been more thoughtful, though, putting together a sharing plate and piling extra bits on to make sure we’d not go hungry. Some of the bits were jolly good too: chilli pickled eggs that made me growl like a viking and tiny toe-sized salami sausages with a manic juniper flavour.

The layout is thoughtful too, by the by. They’ve packed every inch with tables and chairs, so this is a pub where there really isn’t any standing room. They’ve optimised for a buzzing and convivial atmosphere, rather than an elbow-to-elbow scrum of beer-swiggers around the bar. Good for them! Long live the House of Trembling Madness!

Review: Skosh, York

The wine journal

The wine journal

I’ve only ever been offered a “Savoury course” in one restaurant before: La Becasse in Ludlow, under chef Will Holland. So seeing a savoury course on the menu at Skosh felt like a good sign! For those unfamiliar, a savoury course would usually be something interesting involving cheese that you could take instead of (or in our case, as well as!) a sweet course at the end of the meal.

They do another fun thing at Skosh, they keep a wine journal. Every now and then they buy the odd case of interesting wine and scribble down their own tasting notes in a little leather journal along with a price; you can choose from any of them that they haven’t already sold out of. Fun to read. And of course they also have a perfectly good list of very drinkable wines, all available by the glass or bottle.

Cheese not egg

Cheese not egg

So, food. It’s small plates but they build a meal for you by picking a sensible order in which to serve up whatever you’ve ordered. First up were eggcups full of a dreamy cheddar mousse with snarky bits of burnt cheese and cardamom at the bottom. Nobody could possibly dislike this.

The follow up dish was an odd mixture on paper: spicy venison tartare, avocado mousse, goat curds, pickled pear. It was all very tasty, but although the goat curd and avocado certainly lightened the dish this was kinda at the expense of a clear, punchy flavour.

Cauliflower manchurian was delish, in a properly elegant sweet-and-sour-and-spicy sauce that favoured the sour over the sweet. Nice soft and crispy batter on the cauliflower.

Lovely bit of salmon sashimi next, with peppy little wasabi tobiko piled on top. To make it a “sashimi pizza” it was served on a little round paratha and… well, I just didn’t need any bread of any description with my sashimi.

Sashimi... pizza?

Sashimi… pizza?

Pork belly in vindaloo gravy with yogurt rice on the side was back on track. The gravy was absolutely to die for, a warmy spicy hit. Thin slices of pork with nicely crisped fat worked brilliantly. The rice was a cool complement, though I think serving it at fridge temperature didn’t do the dish any favours – by the time we were eating it the meat and gravy wasn’t hot enough to contrast properly with the cold. I can see how well it would work if they were proper hot.

Our final two dishes were tied first place for absolute brilliance. Pheasant and cavalo nero with a creamy/spicy sesame bang-bang sauce was magic; a beautifully cooked breast with plenty of pink still in it, the sauce with it’s earthy nuttiness and spicy creaminess, the brassica all wrinkly and ready to catch up the sauce. Mmm. And then the char-grilled leek with salted duck egg and smoked celeriac puree was almost even better. Spikily salty crumbled egg, yielding braised leek with bitter blackened edges, melded together by the rich smoky puree. Double-mmm.

Savoury dish

Savoury dish

The savoury that I couldn’t resist was quirky goodness. Vacherin Mont D’Or baked in banana leaf with some black truffle, accompanied by pickled celeriac slaw and to be eaten with a chestnut and pear roll. It was as good as it sounds, though if I’m honest all the flavours kinda bundled in together to give a generic gooey-savoury richness which made for a satisfying finale.

Except for pud, of course, which we had to at least attempt. Maureen’s tiny quince jam donut with a shot of rum-infused milk was the light option and basically yum. My “bauble” was a pretty jumble of chocolate and caramel and cumin scrunch. The bit of parsnip in it got a bit lost.

So. We absolutely loved our meal at Skosh, for the sheer inventiveness and for the depth of flavour, especially in the spicy sauces and gravies. Sometimes they seem to trip over themselves in over-invention, but never to the extent of putting out a duff dish. It feels like £40 would be typical per person before drinks, but there’s such a range of pricing in their small plates that you could have the same sized meal for £26 or £48. Go go go!

Leek and duck egg

Leek and duck egg