Review: The Walnut Tree, Abergavenny

I can’t resist examples of the insanity of TripAdvisor. Shaun Hill’s Walnut Tree rocks in at a mighty number 7, while Stephen Terry’s Hardwick squeaks in at number 10. Gosh, Abergavenny must be a veritable culinary mecca if these top-drawer chefs are that far down the list. Well, if the food I enjoyed last night at The Walnut Tree is anything to go by I shall be in heaven when I finally get to eat at “Pizzorante” – Abergavenny’s number 1 dining establishment*.

Back to The Walnut Tree. It’s a dining room, not a pub, and has a pleasantly informal air of white-washed rusticity. Their website sums up a lot with this comment: “No dress code or similar pomposity. Journalists have given independent comment. This site will not offend visitors with smarmy overstatements of what’s on offer.” So it’s a take-me-as-you-find-me kind of place, and the various negative comments on TripAdvisor do seem to suggest that if you don’t like what you find you’ll get short shrift. I must admit that the formidable matron of the dining room had an air of disquiet about her that suggested she might get quite tart with anyone having an issue with their dish. Luckily everything was delicious.

My starter was a single large, perfect calf’s sweetbread. The strongly seared surfaces gave a beautiful meaty flavour to the normally subtle sweetbread, the remoulade and gravy mopped up very well. It was one of those dishes that ate far better than it looked. Maureen’s kerala fish curry was an insanely good, deep, spicy concoction. Just the fish in a curry gravy, it made a mouthwatering starter with a veritable minefield of whole spices to enjoy.

For main I had suckling pig, with approximately hispanic accompaniments. There was a good slab of soft morcilla, a little heap of chorizo and pan-fried veg that I failed to identify, and a little empanada. This last was stuffed with pig, but it was the strong nutty flavour of the crispy brown pastry itself that I loved. The pork itself was excellent, moist and piggy. Maureen’s rabbit platter included saddle, liver, kidneys and a pudding. I’m not sure how this pudding is made, but it was a light, wobbly, savoury wonder. The offal was also great, the saddle itself moist but lacking flavour. Special mention to the potato cubes, splendid.

I polished off a very boozily satisfying Muscat creme caramel with prunes, while Maureen’s rhubarb and cardamom fool was light and tasty. I’ve made an internal memo to try combining rhubarb with cardamom soon, as they matched up very well.

I like Shaun Hill’s cooking here. Despite the Michelin star, presentation is definitely pubby; here’s some things on a plate – enjoy. But all the dishes were enjoyable, combining interesting elements and flavours masterfully cooked. At about £42 for three courses without drinks I think the price matches the quality of the menu spot-on.


* – which I’m sure is very nice, for the record I know nothing about the place

Leave it out

You don’t need to hear me harping on about the right way to store food. But what’s a blog, if not a place to vent spleen? The long and short of it is: you’ll waste less food if it’s out on show and not lost in the fridge.

The boxes of eggs I bring home sit on the worktop, and if I happen to not use eggs for a while they can sit there for two weeks or more. And they’re fine. And perfect for boiling, poaching, frying or whisking because they’re not fridge cold. You don’t have to keep eggs in the fridge, they stay happy and fresh at room temperature.

Heck, basically this whole post is about what not to keep in the fridge.

Please don’t keep bread in the fridge. The moist conditions, wrapped in plastic, are perfect for breeding the penicillin fur that will have you throwing it out in a few days. Fresh bread is best kept in a paper bag, out on the table, to keep the crust crusty. After a day or two for sourdough this will start to make it stale, the solution to which is sticking it in a plastic bag. Your crust will lose its crunch, but the bread will remain springy and fresh for almost a week.

Mediterranean vegetables don’t like the fridge either. Those poor tomatoes, courgettes, aubergines and peppers have never even heard of frost. Tomatoes in a paper bag sit on my window ledge for over a week sometimes without looking anything less than their best. Courgettes,

admittedly, are best eaten within a couple of days. Subject any of these soft vegetables to the dreaded fridge and they’ll lose half their flavour in shock.

Same goes for strawberries.

Cheese, I grant you, is going to live in the fridge if you don’t happen to have a cellar tucked under your house. So the only point here is to have the foresight to take it out of the fridge a half-hour before you intend to eat it, unless you’re going to toast it or grate it on your pasta. Chorizo, on the other hand, is a preserved meat. Just like parma ham, it doesn’t need a fridge. You’ve seen them hanging up in markets and shops in the summertime in Spain, that ought to be a clue. If anything is going to make a dried meat mankey, it’s moisture.

That’s about it. Take stuff out of your fridge, it’s the wrong place for it.

Actually, let me give you three good reasons to think again about what you shove in the fridge:

  1. You’ll throw less food away; even if veg might last a day or two longer in the fridge, if it’s out where you can see it rather than lost in the back of the veg drawer, you’ll remember to use it
  2. And the inverse is true; the things you do need to keep in the fridge won’t get shoved to the back by the latest shopping load and forgotten, so you’ll use them up more effectively too
  3. Finally, your kitchen will look better. A bowl of tomatoes on the windowsill, eggs in a nifty ceramic egg box, a basket of onions by the back door, a jam jar sprouting a thick bunch of parsley; your kitchen will be looking like Nigel Slater’s snug country den in no time!

Oh, one more. Fresh herbs. As long as they have stalks on, sticking them in a jar of water on the windowsill is going to keep them for a week or more. I don’t know about you, but in a plastic bag in the fridge I’ve found coriander turning into stinky green slurry inside two days. Two quick tips though: (1) the ends of the herb stalks may have dried out, so snip off a little stalk before putting your herbs in water, (2) this doesn’t work with basil, one herb that has to live in the fridge once harvested.

Review: Ludlow Kitchen, Ludlow

The Ludlow Kitchen wins at local produce, don’t even try to compete. This is because it is the new restaurant attached to the successful Ludlow Food Centre, farm shop extraordinaire. Let’s see… the beef, lamb and pork is all from their own farm and butchered on the premises, they also make their own cheeses, cream and butter on the premises from their own milk, many of the vegetables are grown in their own gardens, jams and preserves made on the premises from local fruit, honey from their own hives. Heck, they roast their own coffee. It helps that their “farm” is actually the Earl of Plymouth’s rather extensive estates. Don’t ask me why the Earl of Plymouth’s estates are in Shropshire.

So how’s the new restaurant? It’s a big barn of a room, filled with bare wood – furniture, beams, fittings – but with a strongly contemporary look. This is a bright space, and the service was also bright and friendly. Well, they’ve only been open a week so they ought to be enthusiastic.

The starters on offer were all vegetarian, except for the chicken liver parfait. I went for a salad of beetroot and Ludlow Blue cheese. The mix of three beetroots was good, sweet flavours and some crunch from raw slices of golden beet, but the piece of cheese used was a bit of a dry old specimen, more veining than paste. Maureen’s pickled mushroom salad was great; a selection of lightly pickled fungi with a salad of mixed herbs including plenty of tarragon – great idea, the aniseed flavour sang with the pickle.

I went for the onglet steak, and it was a delicious piece of meat, absolutely stuffed with flavour, aided and abetted by pan juices. Good carrots, more herb salad, and some pretty decent chips; thin, crunchy, still with skins on, they took to the pan juices very well. The accompanying bearnaise sauce was a perfect consistency, but sadly over-vinegared.

Maureen’s main was a couple of melting trout fillets with a light sauce of ramsons and lightly roasted baby onions. Onions with trout? But they were young and sweet, and along with the delicate fish and loving wild garlic the whole dish was a paean to Spring. Which I’m sure is just around the corner.

Puddings were 50/50. Almond pannacotta was brilliant, and a perfect consistency – wobbly to the point of but not quite collapsing. Why haven’t I had almond pannacotta before? Why? Roasted green rhubarb and ginger accompanied it very smartly. Maureen’s rice pudding was a good flavour, sweet and gently spiced, but it was a huge portion. The rice still had plenty of bite, like a risotto. Surely a rice pudding should be soothingly soft? My espresso at the end was very bitter, I ought to have said something.

This is only the Ludlow Kitchen’s first week, and overall I was pleased. The odd tweaks needed are just that, and shouldn’t hide some very honest and flattering cooking of excellent local produce. The starters felt pricey, and three courses ended up at about £26 before drinks. So, not a bargain, but that isn’t going to stop me returning, or indeed bringing friends here when I want to showcase to them the fine local foods that makes this region brilliant.

Review: Gamba, Glasgow

It is well known that deep-fried Mars Bar is a Glaswegian chip shop staple, which may explain why Glasgow’s favourite fish restaurant has such a free hand with the butter.

Glasgow has a few fine fish restaurants vying for the title of favourite, as it ought to: there is so much fantastic seafood along this west coast of Scotland. I remember staying on the Isle of Mull and happening on a small mussel farm. The place was deserted, but they had a big cooler box filled with 2kg nets of mussels and an honesty box. It was £2.50 per net, I think. But we’re looking at something altogether more refined today, and so to Gamba, the self-confessed Glasgow favourite…

The restaurant is a cosy basement dining room, furnished with style and comfort. Stripey chair fabrics, an A-to-Z of fish on the wall, and plenty of space. Service was good, semi-formal and friendly. The bar at the front looked particularly snappy.

My starter was their signature fish soup, a delicious specimen with plenty of shredded crab in a satisfyingly deep fish stock, warmed by lots of ginger and coriander. This was the dish of the day, for me. Maureen’s tartare of sea bass included sesame oil, goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. An unusual concoction, more a cleverly forced marriage than a natural one. I would have expected the main ingredient to stand forward, but the fish was distinctly third fiddle.

For main I chose pan-fried hake with salsify, clams and toasted almonds. The whole almonds were a good addition, pebbles on my very seashore-looking plate. It was otherwise a classic, very well cooked, although I noticed belatedly that they’d left off the promised capers. A shame, as the acidity would have cut the lake of brown butter the dish swam in. I started off soaking this up with the handsome side-order of rooster chips but about half-way I could hear the faint squealing of my arteries hardening and left off.

The other side dish, a “fennel and orange salad”, was a disappointing mixed-leaf salad with unappealing vinaigrette and a few bits of fennel and orange. I’m not going mad. In this century the term “salad” doesn’t have to imply the inclusion of two handfuls assorted rabbit food, does it?

Maureen’s halibut was also swimming, and its ocean of cream and butter was even richer than mine. Beautiful piece of fish, again, and generous. The pieces of peat-smoked haddock with it were powerful good, presumably added to give some flavour punch although nothing was going to lighten the richness of the cream.

Although we both felt heavy with butter I tried a toasted caramel mousse for pud. The slight bitterness of the blow-torched surface was the only interesting taste in what was otherwise a butterscotch angel delight.

Gamba is for fish-lovers, and more particularly lovers of classic fish cuisine. These are generous portions of top-quality seafood, although some of the combinations on the plate seemed a little forced. I suppose we may have chosen the two richest dishes on the menu, but that isn’t how they read and I have to review what I ate. Prices are good for a high-end seafood restaurant, perhaps £38 per person for three courses without drinks. I wouldn’t argue for a special trip to Glasgow on the grounds of Gamba alone, but if you are staying in the city and wanting some classic seafood cooking then I’d point you here.

Review: Stravaigin, Glasgow

Sassenach bloggers and critics seem to only cross the border with their sights on Edinburgh, drawn by the passel of well known chefs doing their thing in Scotland’s capital. So in the spirit of adventure I thought I’d look for good eats in Scotland’s second city.

Stravaigin is a bar and restaurant rambling over several rooms, outfitted in gnarly eccentricity: it’s a hipster highland lodge on a high street in a handsome and bohemian patch of Glasgow. I like it immediately, even before being handed a menu that has me praying the food is as good as it reads. Local produce, unusual elements, powerful flavours, plenty of spice, it might have been written for me.

Stravaigin like to challenge with their food. Shortly after the horsemeat scandal broke into a canter they put their own (quite deliberate) horsemeat lasagne on the menu. They half-feared animal rights activists would picket the door, but on the night all 120 portions sold out within ninety minutes of opening.

Alas, it was a one-off. Instead I start with poached monkfish liver and a preserved lemon relish. See? This was unashamedly powerful, beautifully poached too. And I can report that eight hours later the taste is still with me. Maureen’s ox tongue was even better. The tongue was delicious on its own, but the pairing with a vividly amber puree of carrot and liquorice was brilliant. And the liquorice was not a subtle nudge, it was a bang of liquorice on top of the melting tongue.

Mains. Pan-roasted coley on a smoked haddock risotto on a cauliflower puree. The accompaniments were smashing, but the powerfully good chunk of coley was the star. Slivers of raw red chillies might have been nudged to one side by some, but for me they added star-bursts of excitement to a cosy dish. Maureen’s massaman curry duck leg was very good, with glutinous rice and a Thai salad. It told a story of someone who has actually been to Thailand and understood how this food should be done, rather than just read about it.

My pudding was a sharply squishy baked lemon curd with bright marscapone ice cream and lemon dust; refreshing finish, prettily plated. Maureen’s ginger parfait and prune ice cream were two great components that didn’t really share one plate very well, though a red wine reduction was a surprising pudding element that went beautifully with the parfait.

And we’re done. Three courses of exciting food, very well cooked and presented, for around £24. Better yet, my own choices were off the three course lunch menu – a stunning £15 bargain. Look, if you’re off on that long weekend break to the Highlands you have to drive past Glasgow anyway*. Stravaigin is just off the motorway and adds barely ten minutes to the journey time. Do yourself a favour, aye?

* – and I should hasten to add that Glasgow could occupy a perfectly good weekend break on its own, as I’ve stopped a couple of times before now