A thousand curses on Jay Rayner

Or words to that effect. (I know how sensitive he can be!)

It’s Sunday morning and he’s reviewed the restaurant I was hoping to take Mrs. C to the following day. I had been working on the assumption that Monday lunchtime in sleepy Suffolk would be sufficiently quiet that a reservation would not be required. This was due to be a celebratory birthday treat so although the excellent marks awarded by Jay Rayner were reassuring, would it make getting a table difficult? I must admit I panicked and was on the telephone before I had a chance to don my waistcoat and was reassured by Ross, one of the owners of The British Larder, that they could indeed accommodate us and that marauding hordes of Rayner groupies had not as yet descended upon them.

And so it was that the new Cravat mobile (a long story involving an elderly gentleman, Waitrose carpark, and confusion between the brake and the accelerator) set fair for Woodbridge and a late morning shuffle around the excellent cook shop before crossing the river to Bromeswell and The British Larder. Now I knew the place as the Cherry Tree pub in the early 1980s, when I used to hurtle around Suffolk on my motorcycles, and I must admit it did appear to have been spruced up a bit. There remains a bar, with stools for perching upon, but the surroundings are very definitely slanted towards the food side of the business, as their website quite rightly suggests. Stripped floors, muted earth colours, comfortable leather chairs in the bar area, and well spaced tables for dining do follow the current trend with my normal criticism of the lack of sound deadening. Fine for talking (and listening to other peoples’ conversations if you are that way inclined) but when Mrs C’s knife made contact with her plate at one stage I could have sworn my ears bled!

We were greeted by the other half of the ownership team, Maddy, who proved to be friendly, attentive, and very knowledgeable of both the food and the drinks on offer. Other staff were also well trained in the niceties of service and were very pleasant. We settled down with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and an excellent pint of Woodford’s Wherry while we perused the menu. Mrs. C is not one for large lunches and as it was her unofficial birthday, I suggested we share the Dingley Dell Pork tasting platter as a first course on the grounds that a) she could eat as much as she wanted, and b) I could hoover the rest. Mains chosen we settled back and chatted about things foody until Maddy escorted us through to our table.

The shared platter was excellent. Even the Pea and Ham soup met with my approval (I have no time for vegetables that require you to expend more energy trying to eat them than they provide during digestion) with the other elements demonstrating skill and sympathetic treatment of the ingredients. Star of the platter for me was the Scotch Egg, perfectly cooked runny yolked egg and with the addition of shards of ham in the coating. Very toothsome. The terrine was dense and full flavoured whilst the warm, slow braised, pork and lentils gave a good earthy kick to the platter. Accompaniments of picallili, celeriac remoulade and beautifully crusted bread from the Orford bakery with salted butter were exactly right and complemented the meats perfectly. My only slight disappointment was the gherkins, neither home-made or inventive – I would have preferred some pickled vegetables but that is a very personal choice.

The restaurant started to fill as we enjoyed a nicely judged gap between courses before we took up the eating irons once more. Mrs. C had chosen the slow cooked duck leg with roasted beets which was presented well, not too fussy, and ate even better. The different beets were tender, sweet and earthy, with the duck was beautifully cooked, moist and full of flavour. The accompanying kale was also deemed acceptable although definitely not one of Mrs C’s favourites! The portion proved to be too large for the bird-like Mrs C, so I was obliged to assist and was duly impressed.

My main course was locally caught Skate wing with cockles, kale, and sautéed potatoes. A very decent sized wing ha been faultlessly cooked, the sticky translucent flesh easily parting from the bone and nicely complimented by the intense cockles. Excellent sautéed new potatoes and the kale (not my favourite either but a good contrast of texture in this case) completed the dish. My only slight criticism is that it was all a bit buttery, definitely not a dish a cardiologist would recommend, but in the interests of research I was willing to take the risk.

Having eaten royally, we declined desserts but watching dishes being delivered to our fellow diners they appeared accomplished and were certainly enjoyed. The bill for the aforesaid, and an additional pint of Wherry to aid digestion, was a not unreasonable £57.  Definitely The Best rating!

Pictures are courtesy of Mrs C's phone. I am greatly indebted.
 
Toodle Pip Once More!

The Du Cane Arms

I must immediately come clean and admit this was not my first visit to the Du Cane Arms. Shortly after attending the Grand Opening of The Bull at Great Totham’s ‘fine dining’ Willow Room, we became aware of the Du Cane and made an exploratory trip, incorporating a pleasant walk around the rolling hills that surround the village of Great Braxted. Moist from our exertions, and with my cravat slightly awry, I am afraid to report we fell upon our food with ne’er a thought of blogging or photos, secure in the knowledge that we would return.

Eventually, the opportunity arrived. I was able to escape the shackles of my ‘day job’ and Mrs. C had a rare day when she wasn’t catering in one form or another and so it was that we set off in the Cravat Mobile to North East Essex. Great Braxted is a small collection of houses along a single road in the middle of nowhere with, sitting fore square in the centre, the Du Cane Arms. Run by chef patron Jonathan Brown, whose avowed intent is “to deliver to discerning customers good quality, hearty food in a relaxed and informal atmosphere”, we arrived at lunch time determined to put him to the test.

Aware of the muted wall colours and gaily striped floor covering, I choose autumnal shades for my cravat offset by robust corduroy to give that ‘Country Squire About Town’ look, and I do believe I pulled it off! On entering the bar it was evident that this is one very popular restaurant but two separate members of staff were quick to assure us they would be with us in a minute and the young waitress was true to her word, escorting us to our table. Weekday lunchtimes the Du Cane operates a Menu Du Jour, two courses £10.00p., three for £13.50p. with four or so choices for each course as well as the A La Carte. Having perused the main menu our eyes were constantly drawn back to the Menu Du Jour as, quite honestly, I would quite happily have chosen any of the available options. To help our deliberations, I quaffed a most agreeable pint of Adnams Bitter while the present Mrs C enjoyed a glass of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc about which I was most impressed by the young waitress' knowledge of all the details of the wine.

Choices made, I cast my monocle around the pleasant dining area to survey my fellow diners. Quite a diverse crew I must say; from ‘young’ retirees through to a young family, from a group of elderly locals to a pair of ‘Ladies who Lunch’. All seemed universally happy as the waiting staff negotiated between the slightly too close tables, laden with drinks and intriguing plates of impressively crafted food. Prominently on display were the recently gained 2010 Essex Good Food awards for Best Newcomer Restaurant, Best Chef, and Highly Commended Chef of the Future.

Our first courses arrived. Mrs C had a tian of smoked salmon and mackerel with dressed leaves which was deemed very nice. I managed to prise a morsel of the salmon and mackerel, bound with  mayonnaise from her and must admit it was fresh, well flavoured and nicely seasoned. I decided to take her word on the salad as I didn’t wish to indulge in an unsightly squabble! My starter, a salade tiede of pigeon breast, black pudding and chorizo with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing and dressed leaves was altogether to my taste, the excellent quality meat elements having been well cooked and the dressing providing just the right amount of sharpness to offset the richness. Both dishes were well presented and of good proportions. In readiness for the mains, I ordered a glass of red. Again the waitress was able to confirm the Merlot Cabernet Shiraz mix and very toothsome it proved to be.

The mains arrived, both adorned with their trademark shards, and after a quick piccie or two we both tucked in. For madam; loin of cod wrapped in pancetta with a potato cake, spinach, and mussels and cockles in a cream leek sauce. I had chosen the breast of chicken with wild mushrooms, crushed potatoes, cabbage, parsnip crisps and a grain mustard cream sauce. On looks alone, I think I won that round! Having ‘helped’ Mrs C to finish her dish I can confirm that the cod was cooked perfectly, large flakes of opaque fish with the slightly crisp ham offset by the smooth potato cake. The spinach still had texture and was not waterlogged, the sauce with the local mussels and cockles tasted of the sea with the cream balancing the saltiness nicely. A well executed, cohesive, dish.

My chicken was also perfectly cooked, moist and well seasoned. The mushrooms and cabbage were full of flavour, and along with the potato, provided ample opportunity to mop up the nicely balanced sauce. My only disappointment was the parsnip crisps which were a bit soggy. Overall though, a very good dish that I would happily order again.

After an ‘*Auntie Betty Moment’, I relented and ordered the local cheese slate for dessert, whilst Mrs.C bowed out gracefully with a cup of tea. The three local cheeses were served with fashionable black crackers and homemade chutney and were excellent but, even for an acknowledged gourmand such as myself, the portion was way too large. Luckily Mrs.C helped me out but there was still a sizeable amount left. Quelle Fromage!

As we both sat, slightly ruddy faced and replete, we tried our hardest to find fault with the food and the venue. Thank goodness for the parsnip crisps! The maitre d’ brought us the bill and engaged us in conversation as he remembered us from the previous visit. It was like going to an excellent dentist, the money was extracted without any pain or fuss. The total bill for five course, three large glasses of wine and a pint of Adnams bitter came to under £45. It was almost embarrassing to pay so little!

A small part of me wants to keep the Du Cane all to myself but then again they deserve to be packed to the rafters every day. What a conundrum! My view is get along there as soon as you can, then you can get that second visit in quicker – you will want to, I promise.

So, the all important Cravat Ratings::

Food style – Modern British with ethically sourced local ingredients. Well balanced and interesting.

Drinks – Three real ales, and a short but interesting wine list with a good range by the glass.

Décor – Very clean lines, if a bit clinical. Bare tables and comfortable seats with good weighted cutlery. Some of the art work jarred but the fresh flowers and plants softened the effect!.

Staff – Front of house run by three staff who were unfailingly pleasant and knowledgeable.

Quality against Cost score – Amazing! The Menu Du Jour provides the best value, high quality food I have seen for a long time. Even the a' la carte , if the same standard of food applies (which from the odd dishes we saw that lunchtime appears to be the case) represents astonishing value.

Cravat Rating – Definitely achieves 'The Best' rating.  Absolutely excellent.

Pip Pip!

*Auntie Bettie was an elderly friend of the family who was rather well upholstered and whenever, at a family gathering or tea party, she was offered a cake she would always say “oh no, I couldn’t really” and then, just as you were moving away, would snaffle two! A class act every time.

Best Value in London?

Hands up.  I admit I have gone against my guiding tenet and partaken of a restaurant within the M25, indeed within the very heart of Old London Town, but it was a momentary blip on my otherwise stain-free character and I promise to try and curb any future occurrences. What prompted this abhorrent behaviour? I hear you ask. I’m afraid the temptations of spare time, proximity, and an early evening offer were just too strong to resist and so it was that Mrs. C and I set off for the Great Metropolis one recent Saturday afternoon.

Not normally being one to indulge in spontaneity, I was concerned when Mrs. C. casually remarked on the Wednesday that we had nothing planned for the coming weekend. I was strangely aware of a voice suggesting a visit to London and booking a deal at a restaurant. It was a couple of minutes before I realised that voice was mine! The damage had been done, the seed sown, the expectation set. There was no way back. Determined to make the best of my rash statement, I immediately got onto the interweb and started trawling through toptable to see what was available, bearing in mind Mrs. C’s penchant for shopping. One restaurant stood out as ticking all the boxes and so a booking was made for ‘Theo Randall at the Intercontinental Hotel’.

This left me in a quandary. Casual afternoon wear for traipsing around the shops and more formal wear for the evening – what cravat to wear? Having plumped for a slightly audacious houndstooth check jacket, I felt a slightly muted olive green cravat would set the right tone, neatly combining Harrods’ and the Italian influence of Theo Randall’s food. I just hope everyone appreciated the effort I had made.

The journey from our country bolt-hole to London was uneventful and mercifully swift and we emerged into the swathe of tourists at South Kensington mid afternoon. This allowed for a comfortable stroll around Harrods Food Halls and kitchen appliances (I was particularly taken with a pair of Alessi tea infusers) before retiring to a nearby hostelry for sustenance. Unfortunately Mrs. C’s eagle eyes spotted that the Harrods Christmas department was open (in mid August!) and so a tortuous 45 minutes was spent in a fairy tale world with relentless tinkley, joyous, music in the background. Two observations – Christmas tat is still tat, even if you do pay a ridiculous amount for it, and what effect will four months of inexorable ‘Christmas cheer’ have on the poor staff? I escaped with only a minor dent in my wallet and we retired to the Bunch of Grapes for a pre-dinner snifter. The twenty minute stroll back to the Intercontinental Hotel was mercifully dry but made tortuous by the milling masses of pint-sized touriists (it was like I had been transported to Munchkin Land) who would suddenly stop for no apparent reason other than to hinder my progress. Having negotiated the underpasses at Hyde Park Corner (complete with extremely loud penny whistle playing busker - how soothing!) we eventually found the entrance to the hotel.

Any concerns about not being able to find the restaurant were dismissed by the illuminated sign over the doorway just inside the foyer. 'Theo Randall' it proclaimed and so we entered. Having been greeted warmly we were shown to our table. The restaurant area is spacious, decorated in muted colours with the odd splash of colour provided by modern artworks or, as was the case in our area, by pieces of Venetian glass. The lighting was primarily by small spotlights but the overall effect was fairly satisfactory and the use of floral arrangements, including orchids on all the tables, softened the corners a bit. The problem here is that whatever you do to a large rectangular room with low ceilings and 'institutional' air conditioning, it will always remain exactly that and the ambience was spoiled by the acoustics. Still, a good effort given the raw ingredients!

The booking through toptable was for the early supper menu, including a glass of prosecco which was offered to us as the menus arrived, along with water (chilled tap). Having perused the menu on-line, I thought I was ready to order but the complementary bruschetta and foccacia breads diverted my thought processes so we had to ask the very obliging waitress for more time. Eventually decisions were made, and our order was placed.

We ordered a couple of glasses of wine, a Chilean Merlot for myself and a French Sauvignon Blanc 'for the lady' both of which were priced significantly higher than on the website. In discussion with the sommelier he suggested that the web-site was in need of updating but they hadn't got around to it as yet. A bit sloppy that but the only real fault we could find so only a minor quibble really.  The wines turned out to be very good and wholly met our expectations.

To start, I order the smoked eel with beetroots, dandellion, and fresh horseradish. Nicely presented, the generous helping of lightly smoked eel was delicious with red and yellow beets and creamed horseradish with just enough bite to counteract the oily fish. The only disappointment was the lack of dandelion in the salad but the rocket provided enough peppery contrast to ensure the dish was most enjoyable, Mrs. C. chose Bresaola which, again, was very generous in size and the ingredients spot on; beautifully cured, moist beef and almost crystalline parmesan. Of the two plates, I think I chose the better even though I am a huge fan of beef. Having done the obligatory swapping of fork-fulls, I found the eel dish just that bit more interesting, both in textures and flavours.

On to the Secondi. It was this course that was causing the delay in ordering as it is an unspoken rule that we cannot both order the same menu items – what would be the point of swapping fork-fulls? On this occasion we decided to ignore yet another rule and we both chose the roasted guinea fowl stuffed with prosciutto, marscarpone and thyme with Swiss chard, tomatoes and pagnotta bruschetta. A very wise choice as it turned out, and just out of sheer devilment I also ordered a side of zucchini fritti. The guinea fowl was cooked perfectly with the marscarpone stuffing placed under the skin aiding the moistness of the breast and the juices caught by the bruschetta were absolutely to die for. Again very generous helpings, especially the crisp battered courgettes, but I managed to soldier through and eat all my helping and a couple of pieces from Mrs C. (just to help her out!)

On to the Dolci and quite a momentous event as Mrs. C. normally shuns such things but she chose the Tiramisu whilst I fancied something a bit more palate cleansing, so opted for the Amalfi Lemon Tart. The Tiramisu was light, creamy, and subtle but not a 'real' Tiramisu (I will eloborate further in another blog) and seemed to hit the spot. The lemon tart was glorious with perfect pastry and cheek suckingly sharp filling that left you in no doubt as to the main flavouring. Again both dishes provided an ample demonstration of the levels of skill being shown within the kitchen.

As we were both in danger of following Mr Creosote's example, we declined coffee but petit fours appeared anyway. In the interests of science I took the risk and sampled the bitter chocolate truffles and the pistachio biscotti, and in the absence of any explosion had a couple more. A nice touch and very toothsome, although it did mean we had to have a lengthy walk before getting on the Tube!.

So, in Summary:

Food style – Modern Italian, unpretentious, robust flavours.
Drinks – the Prosecco certainly hit the spot, my Merlot was £11, the Sauvignon Blanc £9. Both wines were very good and we were continually topped up with tap water!
Décor – There is only so much you can do with a large rectangular space but overall a very pleasant space in which to spend a couple of hours.
Staff – Without exception, excellent. Everyone from the Greeter to the Maitre 'd were unfailingly pleasant, knowledgeable and apparently intent on ensuring all their guests had the best possible experience.
Quality against Cost score – If you will forgive the vulgarity, absolutely stonking! Excellent food for an unbelievable price. I would happily eat there every week, if only it was outside the M25!  Overall cost £80 including 12.5% service.
Cravat Rating – Definitely achieves 'The Best' rating.

By Way of Introduction

Welcome to my blog, that of the cravat wearing gastronaut. My aim is to provide honest reviews of restaurants and food establishments visited on my travels around Essex and beyond, written from a personal point of view which may not, of course, coincide with everyone else’s but will hopefully strike a chord with the vast majority.. Many of the established food bloggers concentrate on London establishments, barely acknowledging that good food can be found outside the M25. I hope to dispel that myth, whilst exposing some of the more pretentious, overpriced, examples of dining in the hinterland. I will not be chasing Michelin stars or celebrities (shudder the thought!) but will be seeking out new, and established, businesses that provide good value, quality produce.


How am I, a mere mortal, qualified to comment on the sweated output of kitchens and producers? Firstly, I really do not conform to the profile of the majority of food bloggers I have met. I am not ‘in media’, or ‘between jobs’ hoping to get into media, or hoping to gain accelerated access to the exalted ranks of food critics and writers, or even skirting the periphery of the establishment with a pop-up restaurant (how last year, darling!) – I just enjoy writing and hope that my scribblings may help inform other peoples’ decisions before handing over their hard-earned cash. I am not new to blogging, but my previous effort has run it’s course and has been mothballed so I need a new outlet for my witterings! My previous reviews as a ‘guest blogger’ on Mrs Cravat’s blog was generally well received so I hope to continue in that vein.

I am also not one of ‘the bright young things’, having been around the block a good few times. Indeed, at a recent bloggers event I was by far the oldest there. In the resultant blog, the only evidence of my attendance in the photos was of my hands wielding a carving knife – does this mean my hitherto promising modelling career will be restricted to hand work from now on? With age comes experience, both good and bad, and having started my ‘eating odyssey’ in the early Seventies I have ridden the roller-coaster of food fads from Nouvelle Cuisine to Pukka Grub, embracing them all equally, as my waistline bears witness. Influenced thorough the years by such luminaries as Robert Carrier, Graham Kerr, Keith Floyd, Rick Stein, the Rouxs, and the modernists such as Fergus Henderson, Giorgio Locatelli and that Essex bloke who seems to be everywhere, I have turned my hand to preparing just about every style of food but my abiding passion remains as being for core ingredients, treated sympathetically, and with maximum taste.

I have been fortunate to travel our sceptred isles extensively in my work, and also for pleasure, experiencing every level of food from motorway services (it was an emergency!) to the best of ‘country house’ cooking, from dismal mass catering to beautifully crafted mouthfuls of sheer delight. I will confess to having ‘eaten’ three times in a McDonalds, the last time my Good Lady Wife insisted on proving to me that the Breakfast McMuffin was not too bad, a resounding failure on the part of McDonalds and Mrs Cravat., I’m afraid. Holidays and breaks have been spent in France and Greece primarily, sampling the best their cuisines have to offer, each with their merits, and applying lessons learnt to my own approach to food.

I should also come clean and admit that the present Mrs Cravat runs a high-end catering business for which I have been known to wield a knife or two but my primary experience is that of an informed consumer. Being involved with the trade, however tenuously, does however open one’s eyes to the effort required to produce consistent output, the overheads, and the shortcuts that can be taken, all of which go into the overall cost that we all as consumers are expected to pay.. Not even I want to eat top-notch food in the hushed atmosphere of an over-staffed dining room every day, sometimes you just want to eat good quality pub food or buy a free range steak from a local supplier but the one criteria that they must all fulfil is that of Quality Against Cost – does the establishment meet it’s purported level of quality of food and service at a reasonable price?

I live in an area where there are literally hundreds of restaurants, yet I struggle to recommend more than four or five using my Quality Against Cost criteria. I would suggest there are a number of categories that restaurants fall into, some of which have merit and some that should be avoided at all costs if you are looking for an enjoyable meal. Just so you understand where I stand – I will not be visiting the first and last categories through choice.

The first category consists of places that, quite honestly, serve dreadful food but the good news is that there’s lot of it! Why bother going out - you could buy the same processed kak at Iceland, Tesco or Macro, bung it through the microwave, and recreate that ’special’ evening in the comfort of your own Lazyboy (I do understand I’m making a sweeping generalisation there but looking at the girth of the majority of people waddling down the High Street I don’t think I’m far wrong). Normally associated with a bottom end chains of ‘eating experience venues’, or aspiring to be so, they often provid ‘specials nights’ such as “Curry and a Pint for £3.79”. Large pub chains and fast food outlets are the masters of this category, somehow managing to bring inconsistency into the most portion controlled, automated, regularised food that man has devised. I refer to this as the ‘Ping’ category as most food is microwaved, or they have some spotty youth who failed Food Technology in charge of an encrusted deep fat fryer, in which case you wish they had used the microwave!

Climbing the ladder of quality, so to speak, we come to the second category. Mainly well-established venues, often family run or smaller, local, chains, I often refer to them as ‘Time Warps’. Their menu and décor, and often their prices, haven’t changed in years, often serving tired ‘Mediterranean’ cuisine by bored swarthy gentlemen with the obligatory huge peppermill or ‘old school’, everything made with the same base gravy, Indian. The advantage of such venues is that you now exactly what you’re going to get, indeed most punters seem to know the menu off by heart, so the disappointment level is normally fairly low. Like a pair of comfy slippers, they embrace and comfort you with their undemanding food and welcoming hosts.

Next up we have the ‘Evolving and Improving’ category. These are restaurants that at least attempt to move with the times, adapting their offerings to current trends and offering seasonal menus. Often quite new on the scene and, regrettably, short-lived after failing to live up to their earlier promise or mis-reading their demographic this category can provide some of the best, and worst, dining experiences. Prices can vary wildly, depending on the attitude of the proprietor and whether they are in the business for the long haul or the fast buck. One of the dangers in recommending anything in this category is the lack of consistency of quality or service that only comes with the experience of an established business but occasionally you stumble across one that is worth a second chance. The worst eventually succumb to financial pressure and disappear; the best thrive and achieve the next category where they hopefully remain.

The best category, as far as I’m concerned, have a mixture of experience, knowledge and skill that culminates in a subtly evolving yet consistent dining experience. I call this category ‘The Best’. Normally well established, the management understand their existing and aspirational customer base and meet their expectations through providing a level and consistency of service whilst still offering the occasional challenge within their constantly changing, short, menu and daily specials. Another sweeping generalisation I know but such establishments are often headed up by knowledgeable ‘foodies’ or established chefs that have taken the plunge on their own that want to provide good food in welcoming surroundings. Restaurants falling in this category can be modest bistros through to high end gastronomy – they are providing their services at an appropriate price for the level of dining on offer

The last category and the one that challenges me the most is best described as ‘Destination Dining’. Launched with a fanfare, normally a symphony of beige (until the fashion changes again) with draped or leather chairs and banquettes, a menu purporting to feature local produce yet includes the latest salad leaf from Japan at every opportunity and staffed by young lovelies that occasionally deign to serve you with a level of disdain not even experienced in a Paris bistro in August, these venues are all about being seen. Invariably bankrolled by a consortium of local builders, they bring in a young chef from ‘London’ who is given carte blanche to fleece the diners, sorry I meant to say develop his own, eclectic, style combining ingredients that may well work given the finesse of the Fat Duck or El Bulli but in reality, inevitably, leaving an expensive discordant taste. Combine haphazard cooking with staff who haven’t got a clue and really don’t want to be there, charge ‘London’ prices to punters who just want to seen and you have a ‘Destination Dining’ experience. The shame is that these places survive because, certainly in my locality, there is a swathe of mahogany coloured, fake breasted, blinged up people, (and that’s just the chap!) often of ‘a certain age’ that have high disposable income but no taste or understanding of good food who try to outdo each other in the extravagance stakes, for which these venues provide a perfect window for them to practice their conspicuous consumption. Tragically, sometimes a perfectly good chef gets sucked into the morass from which few manage to escape with reputations intact. Luckily, they are catering for a diminishing market so hopefully their days are numbered. In the meantime, go once when they are newly opened and trying to impress, then avoid like the plague!

Having exposed my prejudices in the preceding rambling introduction, my aim is to chronicle my visits to food venues, whatever their category, and provide my honest opinion of those venues. If I think something is wrong, I will offer the management the opportunity to comment so you can make your own minds up. Over-riding all this I hope that my writings will be enjoyable, occasionally humourous, and informative and I look forward to any comments you may care to make

So, on with the expanding waistband trousers and voluminous stain resistant shirt, and dust off an appropriate paisley cravat, as I set off on my mission to eat my way around the more salubrious parts of this fair land of ours.

Toodle Pip!