Last Saturday, before the world went white, Dave and I dined at Gidleigh Park in Devon to celebrate my birthday.  I’ve been an admirer of Michael Caines for many years and was thrilled to have an opportunity to try his food.

Now, just saying ‘in Devon’ doesn’t give you any concept of just how off the beaten track the hotel is.  This is by far the most remote restaurant that I’ve ever visited and I was profoundly grateful that (a) Dave was happy to drive, (b) has night-vision that a rabbit would be proud of, and (c) nerves of steel, as the little B-roads we crawled along were not fun.  High hedgerows blot out the moon and you just pray that there are no crazy drivers out and about… I can totally see why Gidleigh Park have their own helipad.  (I highly recommend using it if you have the moolah.)

By the time we saw the comforting twinkle of lights at the top of the hill, we were more than ready for dinner.  Perhaps this is why the charming staff at Gidleigh Park settle you in a comfortably appointed lounge, next to a roaring fire as soon as you arrive?  It’s hard to feel stressed-out in such beautiful surroundings…

We sipped drinks and settled down to choose between the classic and seasonal tasting menus, all nice and cosy in the warmth while the wind howled outside.  As the name suggests, the classic tasting menu consists of Michael’s more classically-orientated dishes, with a heavy French bias.  The seasonal menu changes weekly and takes its influences from world cuisine. As tempted as I was by a couple of dishes on the classic menu, the seasonal menu was much more my ‘thing’, so we went with that. And in a further treat, I also opted to have the wine flight for the tasting menu. (Wine flight always sounds terribly pretentious, doesn’t it?)

Before we move on to the individual dishes, I must apologise for the quality of the photographs. The lighting in the dining room was very soft and very low—not at all conducive to photography without flash. Hopefully you’ll get the general idea…

Tartar of marinated tuna, soused turnip and beetroot, wasabi cream, honey and soy vinaigrette with an accompanying glass of Sharpham 2006 Estate Selection, a local English wine.  The light, crisp citrus-scented wine was the perfect complement for such a light and fresh pre-starter.  This was a dish of beautifully contrasting and balanced flavours and it all disappeared far too quickly.

The starter of warm pigeon salad with apples, hazelnuts and roasted foie gras was absolutely delicious and very seasonal.  The pigeon breast was cooked perfectly and was moist and bursting with flavour.  (I always like to order pigeon when I eat out as it’s just such a small and fiddly bird to work with.  It always tastes much better when someone else has slaved over it!)  The pigeon was well able to stand up to the big, gorgeous flavour of the roasted foie gras which was meltingly tender.  The sweet crunch of green apple and toasted hazelnuts—the best hazelnuts I have ever tasted—really brought the dish together and it was a huge hit with both of us.

The wine pairing of Carolina White 2005 from the Jakoncic Family Vineyard in Slovakia was just amazing.  I adored this wine, immediately dubbing it my ‘new best friend’.  Golden, honeyed and with a rich scent of raisins, it melded so well with the rich dish.  I’ll definitely be investing in a bottle or two of this gorgeous, gorgeous wine.

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This weekend, Birmingham was invaded by thousands of comics fans, all flocking to the Birmingham International Comics Show, us included.  Would Birmingham survive? Stay tuned, true believers!

As Dave was going to the pre-show launch party–by which you may as well infer booze-up–to hobnob with artists and writers galore, he let me pick the restaurant for dinner on Friday night before the party.  (Lucas and I snored the night away at the hotel instead.  Oh yeah… I know how to party.)

I had wanted to eat at Purnell’s, but they’re not keen on children in the restaurant (unlike Le Manoir, The Fat Duck or Restaurant Gordon Ramsay), so I checked out some parenting websites for recommendations.  Netmums came up trumps with their recommendation of Bank as a ‘grown-up yet child-friendly’ restaurant.

Bank is situated in the cosmopolitan Brindlyplace area of Birmingham.  The area heaves with bars and restaurants giving it a lively buzz.  Bank occupies the ground floor of the Deloitte & Touche building and thus attracts a young, lively, corporate crowd.  The heavily mirrored and glazed interior design reflects (no pun intended) their customers well and there are great views overlooking the canals.

We arrived at the beginning of evening service and thus were seated quickly with a highchair brought out for Lucas, who promptly started flirting with our waitress.  His shameless flirting only got worse when she brought us our menus and some very good bread.  The ciabatta was nice and chewy and the wholmeal was really well flavoured.  We happily slathered some very nice salted butter over each slice as we perused the menu.

The menu at Bank is eclectic to say the least.  Arabic, French, Greek, Italian, British, Chinese and Thai dishes all sit happily alongside each other on the menu, with the focus on bold flavours rather than any particular cuisine.

We all shared a mezze platter as our starter: Olives, flat bread, humous, falafel, tzatziki, sweet pepper and aubergine relish, tabbouleh, savoury Greek pastries & baby red peppers filled with feta.

Mezze platter

This was very good.  The stuffed baby red peppers, in particular, were amazing!  Like little flavour bombs in the mouth… so sweet, slightly firey, and with lovely creaminess from the feta to cool your mouth down.  Very yummy.  The olives were excellent–such a shame that Dave doesn’t like olives, so I shared one or two with Lucas.  His first olives!  (He prefers green to black, if you were curious.)  The falafel were sweet and deliciously nutty, but alas I lost most of mine to a certain wee man who had decided it was the tastiest thing ever.  The older Lucas gets, the more his tastebuds align with mine.  Which is great in one way, and frustrating in that I can never eat a meal without half of it being pinched!!

For our main courses, Dave opted for the seared scallops with black pudding, garlic mash & a white wine sauce while I played it slightly lighter with crispy duck with Chinese greens, sesame & honey dressing.

Seared scallops, black pudding and garlic mash

Roving reporter Dave, all the way over on the other side of the table, reported that this dish was as fabulous as it looked.  I would have loved to have tasted it, but Lucas was busy tasting it for Daddy.  He loved his first taste of scallops!  I know scallops and black pudding is a bit over-done these days, but when it is done well–and I’m told this was done very well–it’s fabulous.

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Photograph © riverstation.

Today we had Sunday lunch at riverstation in Bristol with Dave’s friend John and his blushing bride-to-be, Rosie. Having been there before and thoroughly enjoyed both food and atmosphere, we were looking forward to a fabulous lunch.

Alas, it didn’t quite go to plan.

I’d reserved a table downstairs in the bar+kitchen for us as it was supposed to be wheelchair accessible–there is no lift at riverstation, so the restaurant menu will be served downstairs in these situations–and I’m really not sure how two-steps down constitutes wheelchair accessible, but there you go. It was a good thing that Rosie was having a good day and could manage without her chair. Still, we had a nice table overlooking the river which kept Lucas happily occupied by boat-spotting for most of the meal.

The restaurant was busy with families having brunch as well as the proper Sunday lunch crowd, so I could put up with a modicum of slow service due to that. It took about 15 minutes for our food and drink orders to be taken, which is verging upon excessively slow.

Our starters arrived about an hour later which was appalling. A senior waiter did come downstairs to explain to us that due to printer problems our check didn’t go up in the kitchen, but I would have expected the staff to have noticed long before then that we hadn’t had our starters, even though we were being awkward and ordering from the restaurant menu while sitting in the bar+kitchen. By this point, I’m ashamed to say, we’d resorted to stealing sharing the snacks that Lucas had brought in his backpack.

My risotto of broad beans and mascarpone with sauteed girolle mushrooms was disappointing. It was under-seasoned and was so dry that it might as well have been a pilaf. I suspect that the chef was very rushed and forgot (a) the seasoning and (b) the mascarpone that should have been added. The broad beans were surprisingly good though, despite their incredible size. In all honesty, I should have sent it back, but I was so grateful to see food that I would have eaten anything.

Dave’s warm salad of baby chorizo, potato, spinach and a soft poached egg was executed very well on the other hand. The tiny chorizo sausages were packed with flavour and as the potatoes had been bathing in all the lovely oily juices they were equally flavoursome. The poached egg was apparently perfect, too. No wonder Lucas turned up his nose as my starter in favour of Daddy’s…

The main courses arrived much more swiftly than the starters to our relief. Dave and John both had the rare roast topside of beef, roast potatoes, beetroot and red wine jus while Rosie and I both opted for the roast lamb leg ‘noisette’ with marinated arroccina beans with red chard and salsa verde. My lamb was perfectly cooked. So succulent and beautifully pink in the middle. The marinated arroccina beans turned out to be posh baked beans–we think that arroccina is probably haricot beans but mistranslated into Italian–which were a huge hit with Lucas. He feasted upon my beans and Dave’s beef, roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding. My red chard–the main reason I chose the dish–was interesting and tasty. The leaf part was very similar to spinach but the stalk was more bitter. I quite liked it, especially as it was dressed with plenty of garlic, and I’m tempted to plant some chard next year if I ever get my proper veg patch going.

Due to the earlier problems with the starters, our waiter informed us that puddings were on the house which was a nice way of making things up to us. Three of us opted for the chocolate St Emilion, creme fraiche and red fruit coulis and Dave had the baked American cheesecake with passion fruit sauce. Alas, the waiter came back a few minutes later, full of apologies, and said that the St Emilion was sold out. Much woe. Instead he offered us a chocolate terrine which was similar in texture. Having never had a St Emilion, I have no idea if this was an accurate description, however the terrine was darkly delicious. Its texture was very dense and perhaps a little bit more solid than the clotted cream that I asked for my slice to be served with. A lot of very good chocolate was used to make this terrine and Lucas and I were very happy with it. Oh yes, our junior foodie was all over the terrine. Daddy’s cheesecake was all very nice, but his eyes were firmly fixed on all three slices of terrine. All grumbling and fidgeting stopped–it was a very long lunch for such a little boy–as he shared my terrine and by the time we were done he was wearing a big, chocolatey grin. Bye-bye chocolate, he said as I scraped my plate clean.

Due to the service problems our lunch took over three hours. The last time I spent so long over lunch was at Gordon Ramsay’s and that was the tasting menu. I even caught Dave pointing out to John and Rosie that it took me less time to give birth to Lucas (and he was huge)!

All in all, the majority of the food was excellent… when it eventually arrived. And comping us dessert was a good step in the direction of making things right, but I find myself feeling really let down by riverstation. I even caught myself apologising for the restaurant mid-way through the meal, which I think goes some way to show how much I liked it on our previous visit. Now I just have to decide whether to give them another chance…

riverstation
The Grove
Bristol
BS1 4RB

Reservations : 0117 9144434

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Kate came down from London for the weekend. Why do we always say “down from London”? I guess “sideways from London” doesn’t quite have that ring to it. However, I digress…

After a relaxing hour or two of comic shopping at Forbidden Planet, we wandered down to the Harbourside to have lunch at The Brasserie, Bordeaux Quay.

I’ve been intrigued by Bordeaux Quay since it opened in 2006. It sounded very… worthy. Collecting rainwater to flush toilets, recycling cooking oil as bio-fuel, and other save-the-planet innovations. Now, I am a big advocate of recycling, but the press releases made it sound as though it would be rather forced down diners throats. However, the food sounded interesting. Local, seasonal, menus changing according to what was available on the day. That I liked.

Bordeaux Quay is situated in the Harbourside area of Bristol. This has been redeveloped and invigorated in recent years and is now–dare I say it–trendy. The Harbourside is also home to two food festivals each year, so it does have foodie credentials. The building itself is worthy of Grand Designs with a beautiful oak staircase forming a focal point amd some light wells which reduce the need for day-time lighting.

I’ve got to say, I was impressed at how child-friendly Bordeaux Quay was. They had decent high-chairs, were happy to offer child-sized portions if required, and happily provided Lucas with a box of crayons and some menus to draw on. (Apparently there is also a buggy park and full baby-changing facilities, so handy for Yummy Mummy Lunches.)

Kate and I settled on the goats cheese, roasted pepper and spring onion tart with a garden salad and Dave opted for pork and herb sausages with mash, cabbage and red onion gravy. Lucas opted for gannetting food from all of our plates.

While we waited for our main courses we snacked on some bread and olives. Much as I hate to criticise restaurants, I do have to observe that while the bread was very good it was rather out of place to serve it with a dish of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. It was good, solid English bread (brown and white), close-textured which cried out for some good, salty butter…

I really liked the tart. Short, buttery, crumbly pastry with a succulent layer of roasted red peppers. The goat’s cheese wasn’t lost within the egg custard, but instead turned up as little pockets of sharp-salty goodness. The salad that accompanied it wasn’t particularly exciting, but the produce was all excellent quality. It was certainly festively colourful!

Dave said that his sausages were excellent, as was the mash, but the red onion gravy somehow managed to have no flavour. The onions weren’t caramelised at all which left the gravy looking and tasting rather wishy-washy. It’s interesting that they managed to do the hard stuff right, but fell down on the simple gravy.

Lucas made a very good lunch out of our plates–food tastes way better from our plate rather than his own–but definitely preferred the sausage and mash. He’s getting quite carnivorous as he grows up.

Luckily for Lucas, we all opted for different desserts, so he got plenty of tastes! Kate had the baked chocolate pot with langue du chat. Dave had the apricot and raspberry crumble cake with vanilla cream. And I had the strawberry trifle. Judging from the dip that the conversation took as we ate, everyone was as happy with theirs as I was.

I loved the trifle. The strawberries were so ripe and sweet, and bathed in a coulis made of their pureed brethren. They were topped with an almond sponge, some gorgeously thick custard and finally a billowy layer of whipped cream.

All in all, it was a decent lunch which was reasonably priced. I wouldn’t rush back for a second meal, but if I was in the vicinity and hungry then I’d certainly pop in. I’m still quite keen to check out the main restaurant upstairs, though.

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Jeanne has tagged me for a six things meme. I don’t think I am particularly quirky, so this will probably descend into six things you didn’t know about Ang…

1. I always, always have to clean my glasses before setting off in the car. And I always have the sun visor down, even on dull days. It just feels right that way.

2. I don’t like eggs. Well, let me clarify that. I don’t like boiled, poached, or fried eggs. Anything where you have the remotest possibility of tasting the yolk as a separate thing. Yuck. I do, however, love scrambled eggs, omelettes and anything where eggs are an ingredient rather than the star.

3. I can’t resist making shapes out of mashed potato. Luckily now that we have Lucas, I can claim I’m doing it for his amusement!

4. I rarely sit on the sofa. I usually lie down, plonk the laptop beside me and tap away happily.

5. Quirky, quirky, quirky… *drums fingers on table* I hate bad grammar and poor punctuation in signs. (I’m fully aware that there are bound to be grammatical errors in this post, and others. If you feel moved to point them out, I’ll happily correct them!) Recently, I dragged a customer service rep round all the advertising hoardings at our local supermarket to point out the errors. Alas, they’re all still there.

6. Apparently I say “oh wow!” rather a lot. I only discovered this when I noticed that Lucas was also saying “oh wow” and “wowee!!”

I have to nominate six other people, so let me see… Katie, Beth, Lorraine, Erin , Ari and Ivonne.

Dining at Restaurant Gordon Ramsay is a real Experience.

We had a very luxurious and rather fabulous lunch there on Monday to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary. I will probably use the word luxury and variations thereupon far too much, but it it was such a special meal that I reckon I can get away with it!

The dining room is intimate, but not cramped, and you very quickly relax into your own bubble of luxury to the exclusion of the other diners. The décor was understated rather than opulent, with cream wall panels, some discrete gilt edging, small crystal lights and mirrored pillars.

On the face of it, the restaurant looked far more formal than The Fat Duck, but we quickly realised that it was far less regimented. When the Maitre D’, Jean-Claude Breton, brought our menus and introduced himself, he explained that even though we were both keen to have the Menu Prestige (or tasting menu), the kitchen would be very pleased to substitute dishes or indeed add in others if we wanted to taste even more of the menu. In the end, we both opted to have the Menu Prestige without any amendments. (I’m not sure we could have fitted in any extra courses!)

After ordering, the amuse bouche arrived. It was a palate cleanser of tomato consomme. The crystal clear consomme was poured for us at the table, over a small mound of tomato concasse, slivers of spring onion and some fresh peas. This was delicious. The consomme was intense; think of the smell and taste of the ripest, most delicious tomatoes you’ve ever had, and then imagine drinking all of that wonderful flavour. Got that? Now imagine it being three times better than your imagination… You’re pretty much there.

Next to arrive was our starter of pressed foie gras on a wine jelly, the plate beautifully adorned with pickled vegetables and a slice of toasted brioche (pictured at top of this entry).

I think there were layers of parma ham in the terrine; I wish I’d paid a bit more attention to what the waiter was saying rather than staring at the amazing presentation on the plate! This was everything one could wish for in a foie gras terrine. Rich, smooth, melting as soon as it hit the tongue, but lightened by the jelly and the sharpness of the pickled vegetables.

Rich, yet light, seems to be the hallmark of Ramsay’s recipes.

From there we moved to the Ravioli of lobster, langoustine and salmon with tomato chutney and lobster bisque. I had really been looking forward to this as I’d never had lobster before and I certainly wasn’t disappointed. (Apologies for the dire photograph; this dish is honestly very pretty indeed!) The lobster meat was easily identifiable to me as a new, sweet and surprisingly meaty flavour. If all lobster is that good, then I might be tempted to bring my own snappy friend home to meet its fate in my stockpot.

A fillet of turbot on coriander linguine with citrus sauce was next, and featured another fish I’d never tried before. Turbot seems to be the big thing just now, with most chefs describing it as the “king of fish.” I’m not sure I’d go as far as that, but it was cooked perfectly and did have a lovely flavour. We both loved the citrus sauce which was, I believe, a beurre blanc with the addition of grapefruit. It had a wonderful citrus flavour but none of the acidity of the fruit.

The final savoury course was the Cannon of Cornish lamb with a confit shoulder, ratatouille and thyme jus. This was just perfect. The lamb was so tender and juicy, with its flavour shining through cleanly. I thought the lamb that I’d eaten at Riverstation was incredible, but this was more than a cut above, putting it squarely into the category of the best lamb we’ve ever had.

I loved the baby red pepper stuffed with ratatouille. Now only was it the prettiest plating I’d ever seen of ratatouille, but also the tastiest. As the pepper was so tiny it was incredibly sweet amd succulent. Delicious.

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Few things in life are better than sharing a meal with friends. Of those which are—better, that is—being treated to a meal by a friend is the best.

On Friday, our very lovely friend Grant took Dave and myself to riverstation in Bristol. As the name suggests, riverstation is situated on the bank of the Avon, within the floating harbour. The restaurant building used to be a River Police patrol station and has been transformed by a clever architect into a sleek, minimalist—yet inviting—restaurant and bar full of glass and steel. I’m a big fan of Grand Designs and have been admiring the architecture of riverstation for years, so I was quite delighted with Grant chose it from my choice list of Bristol eateries.

The dining room was as sleek as I’d expected but not so minimalistic as to be intimidating. Splashes of rich red and warm mustard yellow dispensed with any possibility of the room feeling cold, and the occasional sunny spell warmed up the room nicely. We had a harbourside table with a great view of the river Avon.

Crab and mixed herb ravioli with tomato and vanilla dressing

The ravioli had a delicate balance between the white crab meat and the herbs used. I think it was a combination of chives, basil and flat-leaf parsley which could have been overpowering but was restrained sufficiently to allow the crab to shine. It was topped off with crispy deep-fried shreds of fennel which provided a lovely contrast to the tender ravioli. The dressing was handled very well, too. The vanilla supported the flavour of the sweet, ripe tomatoes rather than dominating. Thoroughly enjoyable.

Rare-roast rump of lamb with confit shoulder, herb polenta, ratatouille and pesto

Mmm… rare lamb. The rump was exquisitely tender. It was set on top of a bed of very good ratatouille–veg all nicely diced to the same size. I loved the confit of lamb shoulder. It had been pressed into a terrine or mould, sliced, breaded and then deep-fried to give a lovely crunchy textural contrast. Herb polenta was very strongly flavoured and really cheesy, too–plenty of decent Parmesan in there. The pesto tied the whole dish together beautifully.

This was the real stand-out dish of the evening for me and one that I’ll be attempting to re-create at home.

Iced pistachio and chocolate parfait with fresh strawberries, sable biscuit

Strands of dark chocolate delicately rolled around a cylinder of just-frozen pistachio ice-cream. I suspect this was made with commercial pistachio paste, but that’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of as it was excellent. The strawberries went unexpectedly well with the nut ice-cream and were sweet and aromatic.

The boys started with chicken liver parfait, red onion marmalade and toasted brioche followed by char-grilled, dry-aged barrow gurney sirloin steak, maitre d’hotel butter and chips. The chips were huge, floury and amazing; the steak was meltingly tender and much more interesting than a fillet steak. For dessert Dave had plum and frangipane tart with clotted cream. Grant had the Eton Mess which arrived as a pretty in pink mound on a plate rather than the usual glass. Everything disappeared in double-quick time, which is the best compliment they could have paid.

We finished with coffees which came with some very good lemon madelines as we watched hot air balloons soar over Castle Park to the north.

The service was friendly and attentive but not intrusive–I dislike staff hovering over the table unless it is a Michelin-starred establishment. My only complaint would be that the barman persisted in tossing empty bottles into the bins underneath the bar rather than placing them in. So every so often there was a rather jarring crash from the bar. But as the food was so good, we forgave him.

riverstation is definitely worth a visit if you’re in the Bristol area. The food is cooked very well, using great seasonal produce and the setting is stunning. I shall definitely be back!

riverstation
The Grove
Bristol
BS1 4RB

Reservations : 0117 9144434

I first heard about The Fat Duck in 2001, when Heston Blumenthal’s take on molecular gastronomy was really starting to attract critical acclaim and err… robust discussion. (Looking at the restaurant website, I’m quite surprised to learn that it opened in 1995.) I’ve been dying to eat there ever since, and this year I struck gold when Dave offered to take me there for my birthday!

It only took two attempts to get a reservation for lunch–I’m so thankful that modern phones have a redial button. I can’t imagine twirling a dial at speed to try and break into the queue!–and then Dave and I spent the next two months eagerly anticipating (and fretting slightly) our meal.

On the duly appointed day, we dropped Lucas off with Auntie Sarah in Reading for a day of fun, frolics, song and—if desperate measures were required—classic Doctor Who DVDs, and then drove onto Bray, arriving with plenty of time to spare.

I’ve seen a lot of reviews describe Bray as a quaint little English country village. I think that’s overstating it, really. Bray is a hamlet. We’re talking a handful of houses, village hall, hairdressers—men’s night on Thursday!—two pubs and The Fat Duck. We stopped in at The Hinds Head Hotel–another Heston venture–for a drink as did many of our fellow diners.

We arrived at The Fat Duck on time and were seated immediately in a nice corner table, close to the kitchen. This was by far the best table in my opinion. I love to catch a glimpse inside kitchens when I eat out, and it also let me have a really good look around the restaurant itself.

The Fat Duck used to be a pub–I find it incredible that Bray could ever have supported three pubs–and it still has a little of that vibe to it. There was no stuffy formality or hushed tones as you would tend to find at Michelin starred restaurants. Au contraire! There was quite a lively buzz–doubtlessly many people were discussing the dishes that they were eating–and everyone seemed nicely relaxed.

The sommelier sallied forth with the champagne trolley and asked if we’d like a glass. As it was my birthday, I chose a very nice Tattinger Brut Reserve which had the tiniest, most delicate bubbles I’ve ever encountered in a champagne. All champagne is elegant, but this was very special indeed.

Next we were presented with our menus and despite lusting after several of the dishes on the A La Carte menu, we went for the tasting menu. I asked for the wine list and it was lugged over in due course.

I really wish I’d taken a picture of the wine list for it was an absolute tome of a book. Thickly bound in leather with the Fat Duck logo embossed on the cover, several inches thick and just on the right side of playful as opposed to ostentatious. Each page contained only a handful of wines, which is just one of many examples of the way Heston plays with your expectations.

I was slightly peeved that the wine list was handed to Dave even though I’d been the one to ask for it. Not quite what one expects in a modern restaurant. But that is a very minor quibble!

We began with the now-famous Nitro Green Tea and Lime Mousse. We watched with child-like glee as the waiter poured liquid nitrogen into a bowl and then squirted mousse from a nitrous whip onto a spoon before deftly ‘poaching’ it in the liquid nitrogen. The ball of mousse jittered and danced over the surface of the nitrogen as if it was alive. Great theatre!

A dusting of green tea from a fine muslin bag provided the final flourish and then the mousse was presented to me with a polite instruction to eat it all in one bite. I crammed it in–it really was quite a large ball of mousse–and wow! Not at all the texture I’d expected. It was crisp, like good meringue, with only the very centre remaining slightly gooey. Sharply tart from the lime, slightly musty from the green tea, and then the vodka whooshed in and left my mouth tingling.

Next came a nice little extra. Two vibrant squares of orange and beetroot jelly. I’m sure everyone know the trick by now—golden beetroot and blood oranges—but for us the real surprise was the complexity of the flavours, especially when they mingled on the palate.

The next amuse bouche was Oyster and passion fruit jelly, lavender. I’d never eaten oysters before and I loathe passion fruit, so I really wasn’t looking forward to this. The presentation was breathtakingly gorgeous–alas, my pictures of this dish are decidedly out of focus–and I actually quite enjoyed the oyster. The lavender flavour must have been very subtle indeed as I didn’t detect it in the little sugary wafer shard that decorated the dish.

Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream, Red Cabbage Gaspacho. This was wonderful. Amazing, even. I’d have licked the plate clean if I hadn’t been out in public. The ice cream was sweet-hot and the tiny mustard seeds popped on your tongue—I’d love to know how they achieved that. The red cabbage gaspacho was quite mellow and was a great foil for the fire of the mustard. A brunoise of cucumber nestled under the ice cream gave a delicious, cooling crunch.

The next amuse was quite spectacular, especially visually. The waiter brought over a tray of oak moss, oak moss and truffle toasts, and a very cute dish containing jelly of quail, langoustine cream, parfait of foie gras. Perched on top of the tray of moss were two little plastic containers containing a film of oak moss, which dissolved on the tongue like a breath freshener, to prepare the palate for the truffle. It was explained to us that oak moss and truffle contain many identical flavour compounds, hence the flavour combination. The waiter then produced a little iron teapot and poured its contents–I think it was a fir tea–over the tray of oak moss, and more magic happened.

White smoke began pouring from the tray of moss and drifting, thickly across our table like fog. Heston must have been a magician in a past life. (Dry ice in the bottom of the tray, if you were curious.) The smoke had a very faint–to my nose; Dave smelled it much more clearly–aroma of oak moss and fir The truffle toast was very good, but to me it just tasted and smelled of mushrooms. Dave, on the other hand, thought it smelt absolutely amazing and was in raptures over it. I fear that I may well be one of those women who can’t smell/taste truffles properly.

The quail jelly, langoustine cream, and foie gras parfait was far more my sort of thing. Incredibly rich–you definitely couldn’t eat more than one portion, no matter how much you would want to–and oh-so-intensely flavoured. This was by far my favourite amuse bouche. Nestled at the very bottom of each dish was a spoonful of vibrant pea puree which helped to cut through the salty richness of the quail jelly. The tiny quenelle of foie gras parfait that decorated the dish was buttery, rich and really just perfect. I would go back for this dish alone. (Alas, my photos of this dish were horrendous, so I cannot share the joy with you.)

We then moved seamlessly to the main dishes. First–and please excuse the photograph–was the (in)famous Snail Porridge and Dave’s most feared dish.

I’ve only had snails once before and I liked them very much at the time, so I was really looking forward to this dish, despite the rather Roald Dahl-esque name. (I think Dahl would have appreciated Heston–and his approach to cooking–a lot.)

When the plate arrived I was amused to see that it resembled a risotto far more than any porridge I’ve ever eaten. Smooth, creamy, and with the grains of oats nicely separated with no lumps in evidence. There was a strong snail flavour through the porridge itself, which was fabulous. Perched on top were some large meaty snails which had soaked up layer upon layer of flavour, but mainly garlic.

Little slivers of salty-sweet Joselito ham nestled between the snails and the whole thing was topped off with fennel that had been shaved paper-thin and somehow made delicious. (I don’t generally like raw fennel,but this was lovely.)

Alas, Dave didn’t appreciate the porridge as much as I did. The porridge itself was fine, as was the first snail, but then his mind reminded him that he was eating a snail, and it went downhill from there. Ah well, I had no plans to start a snail farm at home anyway.

The next dish was Roast Fois Gras, almond fluid gel, cherry, chamomile. Aside from the beautiful presentation, the flavour combinations here were to die for. Absolutely glorious!

The cherry puree was incredibly intense but was mellowed out by the almond fluid gel. I loved the tiny cubes of Amaretto jelly, too. They had a real kick to them! The best thing about this dish was that you every forkful was different, but it always came back to the softly melting, buttery foie gras. Incredibly good. Stunning, even.

“Sounds of the Sea” was the next dish, and for both of us this was a real low point. It looked absolutely beautiful and was very convincing in its attempt to recreate a seaside scene, but… I’m not a fan of raw shellfish.

I did quite enjoy the sea urchin—the orange-yellow blob in front—and the oyster—at the back—but whatever the middle shellfish was… well, it just disagreed with my palate. Very strong and the texture was just unpleasant to me.

The seaside sounds delivered via iPods in seashells was fun, but I don’t think it added anything to the taste of the food. I ate whilst listening to the sounds and without and didn’t notice any change in the flavours. I suspect that growing up in a fishing town has just left me with the urge to duck every time I hear gulls circling overhead rather than any fond food memory associations!

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Our best friends Grant and Sarah got married on Sunday evening and after a lovely ceremony, we celebrated their marriage at The French Horn in Sonning.

We were greeted by a roaring fire and trays of champagne and canapes. After plenty of mingling and munching (the cheese straws were particularly good) we were shown into a private dining room.

The first course was a tiny bowl of celeriac soup. I’d never had celariac before (at least, not knowingly), so I was pleased to find that it was really rather fabulous. I may now be brave enough to actually buy a root and make something adventurous with it.

This was swifly followed by a plate of superb smoked salmon. The salmon was sliced incredibly thinly and spread in a single rosey layer over the entire plate. Hands down, this was simply the best smoked salmon I’ve ever had. I could happily eat it daily.

Tiny dishes of snowy-white champagne sorbet were then served to refresh our palates. The champagne flavour was very pure and the sorbet was deliciously boozy.

The main course was Boef en Croute with Parisienne Potatoes. Oh my god! This was the best beef I’ve ever had; meltingly tender and full of flavour. The duxelles surounding the beef were also bursting with flavour. I can’t say enough good things about it… Dave even had seconds. It was that good.

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On Friday, Dave spotted an entry in one of our guidebooks for Gelateria Nico; apparently the most renowned gelateria in Venice. Never one to pass up a visit to an ice-cream parlour, I squealed and jumped around a bit.

By happy coincidence, the gelateria was about five minutes walk from the Galleria dell’Accademia where we’d spent a few hours looking at more Titians, Tintorettos and Bellinis than you could ever concieve of being housed in one building. Incidentally, the Galleria is by far the best museum/gallery I’ve ever visited. Each room has just the right amount of works to hold one’s attention without everything blurring into one and there are fantastically comfortable benches everywhere so that you can just sit and gaze…. Plus, there are helpful laminated cards explaining the paintings so that you can understand the more obscure ones.

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After our visit to Le Manoir, Dave and I flew off to Venice for a couple of days of fun in the sun (or as the Weather channel assured us, thunder and lightning). We did get some lightning; shortly after we took off, our plane was hit by lightning. I’m still not convinced that planes are designed to be struck by lightning. On a similar note, our flight back was delayed due to having to be checked over after it was hit by a bird when landing in Venice… jinx!!

After all that excitement, we had a fabulous time in Venice. The Doge’s Palace was gloriously over-the-top and liberally festooned with gold leaf. I spent almost as much time craning my neck to see frescos on the ceiling as I did looking at paintings on the walls. Bliss. We didn’t see the Basilica as the queue was incredibly long and moving at a snail’s pace. However, we did have a good long look at the exterior which was a thing of beauty. I’m such a sucker for frescos.

Anyway, onto the food!

La Zucca is a small osteria (restaurant) hidden away from the normal tourist trails in Venice. In an unusual move, I actually picked it from our guidebook (rather than just wandering around sniffing out the restaurant that smells best) and then spent an entertaining hour trying to figure out exactly where it was located. The guidebook just gave the name of the bridge it was located on, however, there were a couple of different bridges over the relevant canal. In the end, Dave’s navigational skills beat mine. (I still contend that I picked the more logical bridge. But no matter, we found the restaurant and had a great dinner.)

Once we actually located it, La Zucca was located beside a very cute bridge (pink skewed bridge) over the Rio Del Megio. As there was a risk of rain on Thursday night, all the sensible diners had moved their reservations inside the restaurant and so, in a reversal of the usual state of affairs, we were offered an outdoor table.

Our table was tiny and perched rather precariously on the canalside. While we ate dinner, we watched a local couple motor up to the trattoria on the opposite side of the canal (interestingly, in Venice the small canals are called rii – rio is the singular) and sit down for dinner. Only in Venice! Quite a few gondolas swept past majestically (laden with tourists), but alas! none of the gondoliers broke into song.

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