The Bedford Arms, Oakley, Bedfordshire

My parents’ house is stranded in a restaurant desert. Our two village pubs are fine for a pint but less so if you’re feeling like something more substantial than a sandwich. And the pubs in our surrounding villages don’t have much more going for them either. So when we heard that the Bedford Arms in Oakley had gone all posh we wasted all of 35 minutes before heading out for a big family lunch.

It’s been decorated with far more extravagance than we had anticipated. If you have shares in Farrow and Ball I suspect you may be in for a bigger dividend than you had hoped for. Behind the bar sits an impressive range of booze including the rather incongruous sight of Crystal champagne tastefully dressed up in its Quality Street orange wrapper. And on the walls hang blackboards offering a jaw droppingly impressive array of fish including lobster which brought up a rather grating memory…

On a similar family outing 3 years ago, we drove off to Norfolk for a family day of East Anglian gardens, scenery and countryside. I was explicitly told that the pub we were going to for lunch specialized in lobster, so I spent the 3 hours of being thrown around the back of the car working myself up into a lather of shellfish induced fantasies. Anyone who has had the misfortune of traveling either left or right in Britain, rather than up or down, will know that for some reason it tends to induce immediate car sickness. So my ecstasy was even more remarkable.

When I found out that they hadn’t got any lobsters for lunch I felt cheated and vowed to never be lured into a long range wild goose chase ever again. The memory lingers and flashes back whenever we go for a family lunch.

Cut back to the Bedford Arms.

We all got very trigger happy and mowed down the waitress with our orders in a burst of hysterical hunger.

My mussels in garlic, white wine and cream sauce were as plump as American school children, but the wine hadn’t been cooked off quite long enough. Not to the extent that they tasted unpleasant, but not quite as awesome as they could have been. And I am never sure whether you really need to add cream either.

Cowie’s scallops were exceptionally good. The cooking was so precisely you’d be forgiven for thinking the chef must have been a Japanese plastic surgeon in a former life. The red topping added a sweet touch that made them taste even more of themselves.

Dad’s white pudding, Parma ham and mozzarella on a pancake had him purring away like a reconditioned Bentley. With his low carb diet it was as if they had designed it just for him.

My rich fish pie was almost perfect. It was depth charged with a couple of shoals of fish and was exactly what I wanted. The only improvement would have been a bolder golden top.

Cowie’s turbot with mussels and prawns with a creamy sauce was very decadent. Whilst it was delicious, it seemed a shame to hide such an amazing fish under so many other flavours.

Dad’s lobster salad was mainly lobster. Which is an excellent thing. Being the lobster purist that he is, he poo-pooed the salad and potatoes and just stuck with a wedge of lemon and a glass of white wine. It brought memories of driving around 90 degree bends in the middle of Nowhereshire churning back to me.

Mum’s garlic and chilli prawns looked every bit as opulent.

Sadly, the desserts were a disaster. As the chocolate mousse was placed in front of me the sight of a paper doily I grimaced with chintz fueled horror. As I shuddered the mousse stayed still as it was set solid. I won’t bore you with the taste, but it wasn’t good.

And a lemon cheesecake tasted about as real as Jodie Marsh and was every bit as unpalatable.

Overall, we loved our lunch despite the occasional slip up, but could have done without the brusque performance from the owner who acted very strangely as he walked off mid conversation with us about the desserts.

If you’re looking for something a bit more than you’re average lunch time pub baguette in the North Bedfordshire countryside and fancy some nice fish then the Bedford Arms is worth a go. Whilst it was very good for the area it makes you really appreciate places like The Hole in the Wall, The Gurnard’s Head and The Horse Guards Inn even more. Just fill up on starters and main courses and avoid pudding. And watch your Ps and Qs with the boss!

The Bedford Arms
High Street
Oakley
Bedfordshire
MK43 7RH

Smuggling Scallops at The Ship in Rye

On a wet Sunday evening The Ship Inn was quite quiet but felt inviting and ideal for an evening of board games and more scallops. We hunkered down and imagined we were smugglers trying to evade detection. We set about a marathon session of Scrabble along with a pint of Harvey’s. I just wish I had written this review using the scrabble board to record our thoughts…

Coquille Saint Jacques tasted great but wasn’t the elegant dish we were expecting. It was a bit cloying and overly dense but in fairness the scallop was the star of the show. And to be honest what’s not to like about cheese, cream and scallops even if it wasn’t an ethereal version.

Smoked haddock gratin with toasted sourdough was delicious. Very simple. Very naughty. Very good.

Scallops with smoked prawn and chipotle sauce, served on corn fritters, were brilliant. The smoked prawns and chipotle are a great match and a speciality of the Ship. Whilst I loved them, some more sauce would have been very welcome indeed.

Unfortunately scallops with bacon and pea risotto read well but ate badly. Everything was tasty, but the cement-like risotto shouldn’t have been allowed out of the kitchen. It needed to be far looser.

Despite a dodgy risotto and sloppy Coquille Saint Jacques, we had a very enjoyable experience. The staff were a fun bunch of quirky youngsters sporting interesting tattoos, brooding make up and genuine smiles. It’s a great pub that does imaginative food and takes care to create a creative experience that sets it apart from other pubs. So much so that they get full marks for their fantastic website which not only provides all the information that you need but does it with such style seamlessly links with the imaginative vibe you get when you settle in for a session.

Further reading:

The Ship Inn website
The Ship Inn on Trip Advisor
The Guardian on the Ship Inn

This is part of a small clutch of posts about our trip to Rye for the Scallop Festival.

Portloe, St. Mawes and The Ship Inn

Our journey from The Gurnard’s Head in Zennor took us through Penzance, past St. Michaels’s Mount and the oyster beds of Helford (where apparently there’s a great camp site with a clay pizza oven called Gear Farm) and on to Flushings where we caught the tail end of a regatta and the start of a fete. Patches of blue sky and ribbons of bunting seemed to greet us wherever we went.

We landed up in a farmhouse BnB between Truro and St. Mawes in the most undulating and rugged Cornish scenery you can imagine. Hills didn’t roll, they tumbled; grass wasn’t green, it was emerald. As we arrived at Tregonan Farm we could barely believe we had found it. The driveway was a mile long, down a valley, over a stream and walled in by steep hedges. The tarmac had long worn away leaving a “road” more rutted than a winter ewe.

The farmhouse looked idyllic from the outside, as it did on the website. When our utterly charming host welcomed us in, we couldn’t help but sigh when we were shown to our browny-beige room. It was the least romantic bedroom you can imagine. The interior design equivalent of granny pants held up with a chastity belt. The dated look and rickety fittings were a master stroke in ensuring that amorous guests don’t keep everyone up all night!

We pottered downstairs and were greeted by tea and warm scones that had just emerged from the AGA. It made me wonder whether they had a camera at the bottom of the drive which alerted them when a guest was arriving in order for them to put the scones in the oven… There can be few more enchanting things than fresh scones, home made gooseberry jam, clotted cream and thoughtful hospitality. Full marks.

Prompted by their user-generated restaurant and pub guide we drove down to the stunning fishing harbour of St. Mawes. We loved the quiet atmosphere and sight of boats bobbing about as if they were listening to one of Will Young’s more mellow ballads. But St. Mawes is devoid of a decent pub, with the Rising Sun doing only a half decent job of imitating one. It’s crying out for someone with some vision to do create a cracking fish focussed pub.

So we drove on to Portloe where we found The Ship Inn, which was so full of people they were spilling out all over the nearly vertical street outside. It was abuzz with locals, visitors, old sea-dogs and boozehounds adding character at the bar.

A perfectly grilled whole plaice with lemon butter washed down with a magical pint of Tinners was just what I wanted. Nothing fancy. Light. Spot on. Cowie’s prawn cocktail was straight out of Simon Hopkinson’s world. And why not?

We walked off our light supper and stood looking out to sea feeling refreshed, inspired, liberated and eager to return. When we can afford it, we might even indulge in a trip to the Lugger, which looks like a very smart place for a romantic get away.

Well done Tregonan and Portloe. Timeless, British hospitality at its most genuine. Why can’t other places manage this? It really isn’t hard.

Part of a series of posts about our trip around the South West.

The Chapel, Edgeware Road

Just a quick review of The Chapel pub near Edgeware Road Tube Station…

It’s a well run pub with an exciting food menu featuring some modern pub classics like rib eye steak, fish cakes and grilled chicken. This is bolstered by some more unusual offerings such as grilled ostrich with a mango, ginger and chili dressing. The most startling side of the menu however, is the lack of both burgers and chips… a very good thing indeed! Even though I did have an insatiable desire to wolf down a cheese burger and chips on a slow Friday afternoon!

Oi and I had the grilled ostrich which was beautifully rare. Unfortunately, the meat was tough and fibrous. Not the tender piece of meat we were expecting. It was chewy and disappointing as a piece of meat. A real shame because the rest of the dish was fabulous. We probably should have played safe with the rib eye!

I watched the two, young and energetic chefs at work. The quality of their presentation and flavour combinations were very impressive. I suspect that they were just let down by the quality of their meat. We’ll give them a second chance at some point soon to try the rest of their menu out. But another blunder and we won’t return.

The Albion, Clifton, Bristol

The Albion’s tucked away down a little alleyway and used to look like this in 1982.

It got its name a couple of hundred years ago from a ship as documented in this guide to Bristol’s pubs.

“The name, Albion, was probably given to the inn in honour of a local ship. There was a ship of two hundred tons owned by Davis and Protheroe built at the Bristol dockyards in 1778 called the Albion ~ and this could have been the origin of the inn’s name, which it has retained for over two hundred years.”

The first time I visited the Albion was about 3 years ago when it was just a basic pub serving beer under very welcome outdoor heaters. It’s a good stop off between the legendary Corrie Tap, Racks and Lizard Lounge.

It seems to have been tarted up since my last visit and is now an extremely smart pub with dining rooms. The menu is very Anchor and Hope with plenty of stuff that oinks and you’ll struggle to find at the butcher.

We chose bath chaps and scallops to start with. My bath chaps were far fattier than I had imagined and came with a dandelion salad which cut through the greasy meat well. I’m not sure I would opt for bath chaps again because the ratio of fat to meat. However the little meat that I could find on them was so porky I thought it was going to jump off the plate and start rooting around for worms and scratch its arse on the dining room chairs.

The other diners were raucously getting stuck into their Christmas parties, tucking into immaculate looking rib of beef to share and charcouterie plates. Suz and I wondered whether we should have pigged out on half a cow, but were very pleased with our choice once my pot roasted pheasant arrived and Suz was presented with her mutton.

My pheasant was really tasty but disappointingly dry. Normally, as Cowie will tell you, I’m not a big fan of red cabbage but I loved it with my pheasant. Suz’s mutton was far better. 2 large slices of leg meat were dark coloured and deep tasting. But the star was a croquette type thing stuffed with greasy mutton. The very essence of what sheep meat should taste of. Brilliant. And the fact that you don’t normally see mutton on the menu made it even better.

We couldn’t quite manage dessert, instead choosing to enjoy the relaxed surroundings, red wine and perfect espressos. The service was excellent. Suz was very impressed by our waitresses’ fashion sense. It seems to be the kind of place well of Bristol students take their parents and loved ones when they want to impress them and they don’t have to pay! I got hit with the bill which wasn’t too bad by London standards but was a fair whack for Bristol. But then again this wasn’t really Bristol. This was Clifton which may as well be Fulham!

The Spread Eagle, Stourton, Wiltshire

It was a blustery, cold Sunday afternoon but I was determined not to stay indoors curled up under the duvet all day. So Browny and I wrapped up in our winter woollies, put on our wellies and set off up to Alfred’s Tower with my beloved whippets; Hector and Bella.

It was freezing, but fortunately the rain held off. We had a fabulous walk clambering through the woods for an hour or so. Hector and Bella whizzed about chasing squirrels while Browny foraged around in the undergrowth for mushrooms. It was great but we soon worked up an appetite and decided to reward ourselves with a trip to a trusty local.

The Spread Eagle is set in the magnificent surrounding of Stourhead House and Gardens. It is National Trust favourite and rightly so. As we walked in the landlord couldn’t care less about our muddy boats and waterproof trousers. A proper country pub that caters for all walks of life. The bar area was filled with walkers, families, grannies, couples.. the works. The open fire was incredibly welcoming and as soon as I had ordered a local bitter and a bloody mary we settled in next to the open blaze.

To start we shared a delicious chicken liver and mushroom pate. Smooth, rich and extremely tasty with plenty of garlic for good measure. The gooseberry chutney was the perfect accompliment.

To follow I opted for a simple leek and potato soup to warm me up and keep my nasty cold at bay. It was fabulous; very comforting, tasty, well seasoned and not bland like so many classic soups. Bronwy was somewhat more adventurous and had a free range chicken leg with tities and veggies. It did what is said on the tin, filled a hole, but nothing to write home about.

Following lunch we simply sat nestled in our arm chairs letting the world go by with not a care in the world… it was great and what Sundays are all about.

If your going for the first time, you simply must take a walk around the gardens.. they are truly fabulous. The farm shop is also a winner!