Restaurant Review: The Coach and Horses - Chiselhampton

Normally going out to eat somewhere new is cause for celebration. Even if the meal out isn't to celebrate anything in particular, the excitement of trying somewhere new is enough to create a bit of a party atmosphere. However, despite wanting to eat there for a while, my first visit to the Coach and Horses, in the Oxfordshire village of Chiselhampton was begun with a heavy heart. This is because it marked my last day in a job which I had greatly enjoyed and also enforced that I would no longer be working with people who's company (*ahem* I mean professional support and guidance) I had had the privilege of for the last year. Anyway, I know they're reading this so I will stop before their heads get any bigger.

The Coach and Horses is a coaching inn on the road between Oxford and the market town of Thame. From the road it looks like motley collection of old stone buildings and it is easy to imagine masked highwaymen tying up their horses here before slaking their thirst and assessing their booty. Inside; low ceilings, crackling log fires and a maze-like quality reinforce this. Despite my conjuring up images of Dick Turpin, the pub is in-fact a charming family-run establishment. The chef-proprietor took over the business from his parents and his daughters provided the charming (and remarkably patient) front of house service.

Initial plus points were won at the bar where seasonal beers from Hook Norton Brewery were on tap. Once a suitable quantity of the excellent 12 days had been supped we were shown through to our table. Unusually, the set Christmas menu looked so good that I didn't even bother looking at the main menu. The turkey and trimmings was complemented by an array of other seasonal dishes including Scottish salmon (good ingredient sourcing there) and pheasant. There was a vegetarian option but you didn't seriously expect me to look at it did you?

Before I get ahead of myself, let me recommend the Coach and Horses chicken liver pate. It was beautifully rich and thick and served with plenty of toast. Now on to the wonderful pheasant. It was served wrapped in bacon which kept it lovely and moist and accompanied by some lovely stuffing and a fantastic mushroom sauce. Seasonal veggies were served separately allowing picky eaters like me to express their naturally descerning tastes and only take what they want. A couple of roasties finished everything off nicely.

Dessert was an interesting course. Anyone who has read my previous posts will know that I usually favour a cheese board to finish off a meal. However, the quality of the previous two courses was such that I decided to take a bit of a punt and go for one of the desserts that required a bit more cooking. Eventually I opted for the profiteroles (although the choice was a hard one). They arrived looking delicious. One particularly nice touch was the sauce being served on the side ensuring that they were neither drowned nor over-sauced. My decision to go for something other than cheese was well made. The profiteroles has a lovely, delicate consistency with a beautiful flavour and just enough cream to complement the lashings of chocolate sauce.

As I mentioned previously, the service was excellent. Everybody coped with and tolerated a mass of mild rowdy types extremely well. The courses also arrived at roughly the same time for everyone avoiding awkward pauses as we were waiting for everyone to get served.

In conclusion; I will be going back there as soon as I can find an excuse. Delicious food, excellent beer, friendly service and a lovely environment all worked together to create a wonderful meal. Enough said.

TFB

Guest Post: The Dinner Party

Tensions were mounting and emotions were running high. The time had finally come... for the Dinner Party.

The Venue: My parents house - providing access to a decently sized kitchen

The Guests: The hosts - my parents, the chefs - myself and TFB - and the esteemed visitors; my father's former pupil master (tutor in law speak) and his new wife (no he's not a serial philanderer, but a delightful gentleman getting on in years who's been lucky enough to meet a lovely new lady after being bereaved).

The Menu: Having been mulled over for many months and being reincarnated multiple times we had eventually decided upon... Cured salmon served on toast with soft cheese and chives for starters, a recipe adapted from James Martin's recent Food Map of Britain programme. Main was to be chicken in a whisky mushroom sauce with dauphinoise potatoes and griddled courgettes from TFB's favourite Whisky Kitchen cookbook. Finally dessert was my own creation of a white chocolate and lemon cheesecake. If you're diabetic look away now but the ingredients are white chocolate, juice of two lemons, condensed milk, whipped double cream and cream cheese (although I didn't mention that to my cheese phobic father). A final flourish was provided by TFB's homemade and truly luxurious tablet, for those who are uninitiated tablet is not a pill but rather a crunchy version of fudge, made primarily from sugar and condensed milk. Yum!

The concept had arisen as TFB and I are keen entertainers and Mum and Dad were long overdue in reciprocating an invitation. I was desperate for TFB to meet the esteemed visitor, whom I knew to be an amusing companion and as such a convenient date was arranged for everyone to converge for Sunday lunch. What followed amounted to a turf war. My mother is a little proprietorial when it comes to her kitchen and the rights to cook almost had to be physically wrestled from her. After she had finally conceded we were nagged for weeks about finalising a menu and providing her with a list of ingredients. Ultimately she contented herself with bustling about while we were prepping. A sample of conversation went along the lines of:

Mum "It's not a problem if I just prepare dinner for tomorrow in a corner is it?"

Me "Well actually we're needing all the space for our prep and we'll fall over each other if you do"

Mum, as she sets herself up anyway "I won't take up much space"

It was a toss up who was most likely to come to harm - her, as my patience wore out, or us as we tripped over her and went flying. 

Needless to say no injuries did occur and the end result was nearly flawless. I was thoroughly won over by the salmon, despite my concealed skepticism beforehand. I have since made TFB do it again. Main was very well received. If I was being super picky the chicken had maybe had a minute or two too long in the pan but was still acceptably tender and succulent and the accompanying sauce was a triumph. The plating was magnificent with individual ramekins holding the dauphinoise. Compliments abounded as we all enjoyed the dish. Finally my dessert was sweet and delicious. Prepared in individual pudding rings it stood in the middle of the plates, garnished with raspberries and grated dark chocolate and was yummy! The tablet at the end was the crowning glory and not only did a nameless guess admit to losing count after 13 pieces but was seen leaving with a doggy bag! 

Lunch extended throughout the afternoon with the guests not leaving until gone 5pm. Everybody had seemingly had a wonderful time and TFB and I were really rather pleased with ourselves. It has to be said that he did the bulk of the work but I hope I proved useful and I think in the kitchen we make quite a good team. And the best bit of all was that as it wasn't our house we didn't even have to do the washing up! That's why Mum has a dishwasher - he's called Dad! 

Happy Cooking

The Girlfriend. 

Patisserie Valerie

I have written before about the pleasure that is breakfast on a weekend. A self-indulgent feast to counteract the daily drudgery of cereal. A few weeks ago, we decided that we would have breakfast at the central Oxford branch of Patisserie Valerie. Although neither of us are huge fans of national chains, the cakes in the window were rather seductive. Sadly appearances can be deceptive.

Things started with moderate promise. As well as cakes, the menu had a fry up on it. Admittedly it was a fry-up costing eight quid; a bit steep if you ask me. However, it showed that there were at least decent ingredients on the premises; specifically bacon and bread. You may see where this is going. A bacon sandwich seemed like a distinct possibility.  All good so far. Unfortunately things didn't turn out to be that simple. I started my request with a suitably sheepish, "I know it's not strictly speaking on the menu but..." My request for a bacon sandwich was met with a look of such confused blankness that I began to think I had asked for a pollonium-cooked paving slab in some obscure conversational Zwahili dialect. Eventually I was told that a bacon sandwich was impossible in a tone that questioned why anyone would want such a thing ever! This didn't endear the place much. How hard can it be? Bacon, bread, a bit of butter and maybe some brown sauce. It doesn't take a Michelin star. It doesn't even really take opposable thumbs. Given the cooks in the building can prepare a fry up, a bacon sandwich shouldn't be beyond their ability.To add insult to injury I was then helpfully informed that they have bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches.

Oh wait, so they can place some bacon between bread. They just need superfluous pollution too. Or maybe it's hot ingredients that prove a problem. A sharp kick on the shin from my other-half prevented me asking for a B.L.T. minus the L. and the T.

Grumblingly I settled for my pastry staple, a pain aux chocolate. All I can say is that I wish I hadn't bothered. Sometimes hunger can be the preferable alternative. We were given virtually no option about having our pastries heated. They were being given their blast in the microwave whether we liked it or not. Sadly this did little to conceal the fact that they tasted like they had been sitting on a shelf for at least a day and had then been dropped in cement. If you think all of this is sour grapes about my beloved bacon sandwich then I can confirm that my girlfriend found her pastry almost inedible too.

So to recap, my preferred choice wasn't available and the backup option was distinctly unpalatable. A saving grace would be that it was cheap but there was no such luck there either. Two hot drinks and a couple of pastries cost nearly fifteen quid. A bit steep in anybody's books especially given the poor service and the disappointing food.

I would like to report some mitigating features to recommend this place but unfortunately I can't. We didn't even get the the bill quickly thus delaying our escape to pastures more fun.

My honest advice; if you're walking past a Patisserie Valerie and fancy a snack, keep walking. You might be lucky and find a bit of rubble or some old cigarette butts to nibble on.

TFB

Haggis, Neeps and Tatties

Today is St. Andrew's day; the patron Saint of Scotland (amongst a few other places). To mark this I will be wearing my kilt but that doesn't really have much of a place in a food blog so I thought I would share my recipe for the most traditional of Scottish deelicacies... haggis, neeps and tatties.

For the uninitiated, haggis is a small hairy creature with legs shorter on one side than on the other. This allows them to run round hills more easily. Obviously male haggises (haggi) have legs shorter on one side and female on the other allowing them to meet half way round the hill. 

Back in the real world, it is a dish of sheep offal, oatmeal, onions and spices. On paper I'll admit, this isn't the most enticing of combinations however most people are converts on tasting. With an open mind, it is the perfect hearty dish for these ever colder winter evenings. If you're looking to buy some then it can be found in many good butchers and some good supermarkets such as Waitrose. I  recommend McSweens as the best to go for. To get the best results I usually stand it in about 2 inches of water in a baking tray, add a wee sploosh of whisky then cover it with tinfoil and cook in a medium-hot oven for about an hour.

Tatties are potatoes, ideally mashed. For best results I infuse the milk for the mashing with the potato skins and simmer the butter gently until it goes a lovely nut-brown colour. It is also worth rinsing the chopped potatoes a few times under running water to remove some of the starch.

For the neeps I generally use mashed swede. This does tend to have a bit of a watery flavour if not treated carefully. For that reason I tend to mix in some chopped parsnips to add a bit of flavour and texture. I also only use butter for the mashing.

Finally, to finish all this off, a Balmoral sauce does the job nicely. Around 300ml of lamb stock simmered until it is thick and viscous with a glass of white wine, whisky (naturally), some lemon juice and a tablespoon of good quality heather honey with a few twists of black pepper will make the perfect sauce. The quantities can be played with until the desired flavour and consistency have been achieved.

Obviously, to finish all of this properly a whisky is required. I think on this occasion, depending on the weather, either an Aberlour 10 year old or an Arran 10 year old should hit the spot nicely!

Sliante

TFB

Whisky Gifts

It's that time of year again. Mass hysteria has descended over the general population like the first frost of winter. Suddenly the question on everybody's lips is, "What can I get... ?" insert person of choice. Special offers are raided, fellow shoppers elbowed aside and general grumpiness levels rise (well mine anyway).

Eventually thoughts will turn either in inspiration or desperation to whisky. There's a flash of relief as you remember that old Uncle Alec likes a dram.... or at least seems the sort that does. Not only that but a bottle of whisky has a certain grace and elegance to it. Gravitas even. Not only that, it doesn't take up too much space, looks good on the sideboard and, barring the more collectible expressions, is the perfect sort of price.

So you've decided on a bottle. Now the big question is which one? Generally if it's wet and tastes of whisky it will go down well but let's assume you're planning on being reasonably adventurous and go for a malt. You could of course go for one of the Glens; Glenfiddich, Glenmorangie or Glen Livet. Between them they make up a significant percentage of single malt production in Scotland. All have their own strengths as whiskys and will provide an enjoyable drink. However if you're buying a bottle I suspect you want to go for something a "bit different"; something special that will make an impression.

There are of course endless obscure expressions that can impress and titillate a connoisseur but they are hard to get hold of and invariably expensive. If you're not buying for a connoisseur then (if you have any sort of conscience) you won't want to run the risk of it being diluted with coke!

Fortunately there is one particular expression that ticks all the boxes in my book. A bottle that will satisfy even a demanding aficionado but will equally provide a nice drink to someone who doesn't drink a lot of whisky. It has a lovely, complex flavour that can be savoured and de-constructed but equally, it tastes of whisky. Dram after a meal? No problem, this is robust enough to be enjoyed. Equally, it's light enough to be had on it's own on a winter afternoon. It also has the geeky trivia-value of being from the most northern (legal) whisky distillery in the world.

The bottle in question? Highland Park 12 year old.

So give it a try; either a bottle of festive cheer and goodwill for yourself or as a gift. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

Sliante

TFB

Restaurant Review: The Waterside Inn Bray

It was the third anniversary of my girlfriend and I getting together and what better way to for two budding foodies to celebrate a special occasion than by going out for a meal? More in hope than in faith we applied (yes applied) for table reservations at the Waterside Inn. The other three Michelin starred restaurant in Bray.

Much to our surprise, our application was successful so on the day of our anniversary we packed into the car and headed off to Bray. When we got there, we encountered the first issue of the night. Valet parking. In front of us was a fleet of Audis, behind a queue of Range Rovers. We however were in a Corsa. A pink Corsa. Needless to say, we felt a wee bit out of place. The parking attendant did however have the good grace to keep a straight face... just!

We got in and were greeted in hushed, deferential tones although it was not immediately clear whether these were directed at us or the institution. In the waiting room we were presented with menus, canapés and a drink.

Fairly quickly I decided that the tasting menu was the order of the day. So far so good. Unfortunately, when I highlighted my egg allergy, things started to go a bit wrong. I thought that, as dishes with eggs were highlighted on the menu, the kitchen would be well versed in mitigating their use. Apparently not. The waiter seemed rather flummoxed and unsettled by my revelation. Ultimately this resulted in me getting most of the dishes but some were missing elements. This I could cope with but where I felt really let down were the dessert courses. My first was substituted with a cheese board which wasn't entirely bad news. The second was substituted with a plate of fruit. This was more suitable to places where Michelins are fitted rather than awarded. Given Roux is a noted pastry chef amongst his other talents, I expected better. I was similarly let down by the petit fours with coffee. Four rather bland fruit jellies were hardly a substitute and left me feeling distinctly fobbed off.

What didn't help was a bit of a language barrier. Having a degree in Biology along with living with food allergies for 27 years means I have come to understand allergies rather well. If I hear how eggs feature in a dish, I usually have a fairly good idea how I will react to them (as well as having a decent chance of explaining why). Unfortunately the waiter and I couldn't find a common language for me to say this so in the end, I gave up.

So beyond that, how was the rest of the food? If I were to sum it up in one sentence it would be: nice but uninspiring. My lobster starter was delicious but spoiled by the heap of green stuff that looked like it had come straight out of a supermarket salad bag and gave the dish the feel of being served in a greasy-spoon "caff" rather than a world renowned restaurant. Next was a very tasty chestnut and champagne veloute with a lovely mouth-feel and mine was served without the foie gras. However it was a bit on the heavy side for something so early in the meal. Next up was an halibut which was beautifully cooked and had a wonderful texture. Finally was the duck which was a bit of an highlight. Beautifully flavoured and succulently tender, it was extremely satisfying. There was a decent amount of duck on the plate too.

So why uninspiring? Each of the dishes were well presented and tasty but none of them were truly mind-blowing. To my mind that's what one should be getting in a three star restaurant. The heavy use of ingredients like foie gras, caviar and truffle gave the meal and air of decadence but also the impression of "posh food by numbers". Nothing was enormously surprising nor terribly exciting. The general sense of disaffection was brought to a head by the prices. Nobody expects a three star restaurant to be cheap but the prices we were charged were verging on the piss-taking. Fifty quid for a main course. Really? We both agreed that for the sort of money we paid we were expecting a meal that we would be talking about for years to come. We were prepared to pay lots but what we did pay, didn't represent value.

Unfortunately the service didn't do a lot to counteract our general dissatisfaction. The restaurant was very well staffed but this lead to lots of people milling about trying to look busy. This in turn created a bustling atmosphere which was extremely unsettling. There was also lots of duplication of tasks. I got asked about my wine three times by three separate people before I had even had a chance to taste it (and anybody that knows me will know that it doesn't take me long to get stuck into a drink). This was after the sommelier looked slightly perplexed when I asked for his recommendations for wine to go with my meal. Throughout the meal we were interrogated as to the food often mid-mouthful or half way through a sentence making it extremely difficult either to enjoy the meal or relax and enjoy each other's company.

I did like the bread basket though. It was made out of beautifully baked and glazed dough.

In conclusion, I really can't recommend going here unless you desperately want to go to a three star restaurant that's not in London and you don't like the idea of the Fat duck  While the food is certainly delicious, it does not justify the price charged. Meals of similar quality can be obtained elsewhere for a more reasonable price. Other venues also have far more personality and soul rather than a rather stiff routine that felt in hindsight like a bit of a gastronomic conveyor belt.

TFB

Party Planning

It was my mother's birthday recently. It is amazing how often she turns 21 (not least because I'm 27)!  As part of the celebrations I (ably assisted by my girlfriend who was indulging her inner Pippa Middleton) put on a small "do" for her with her, my dad and a family friend with associated sprogs and dogs.

Naturally your friendly food blogger spent a considerable amount of time planning a key element; the food. After scrolling through numerous options for individually prepared dishes, I eventually settled for two big dishes that guests could help themselves to and eventually end up suitably stuffed. Even better (and a feature of luck rather than good planning) both dishes could be served with rice minimising the amount of prep. needed.

My first dish was a curry; an almost universal favourite. A korma was my eventual choice since it is rich and flavoursome without being too spicy. Critically it can also be prepared in bulk and in advance. I'm pleased to report that it was so popular that the pot was virtually licked clean.

My next dish was something of my own creation; beef beerginion. Sorry, it is a pun. My sense of humour is that clunking. The dish, as you may have guessed, is my take on a beef bourginion but made with copious volumes of beer rather than red wine. It simmers down to a beautiful, rich dish. Again this can be made in advance and in sufficient quantities to feed a medium-sized squadron (or my lot and a hungry dog).

I'm pleased to say that both dishes went down a storm.

Desserts were handled by my girlfriend; the one with the sweet tooth that I may have mentioned. The menu consisted of a delicious cheesecake, a birthday cake and (best of all in my opinion) a syrup dumpling. With that on offer, elasticated waistbands seem less like a sartorial slight and more like a vital necessity. All of this was finished off by some cupcakes beautifully decorated with poppies; my mum's favourite flower. These were done by my girlfriend's cousin who has an incredible talent when it comes to cupcakes and icing.

Key to all of this was one basic principle handed down from my mother and her mother before her; make sure that nobody was anything less than absolutely stuffed. Pancakes the next morning made this effect last well into the next day. Oh and some rolls and sausage for those that could stomach it.

Not only was spoiling my mother good fun. I enjoyed cooking for lots of people too. Much as I don't like planning, cooking is the exception that proves the rule. The challenge of cooking of cooking for a variety of ages and tastes is not one to be underestimated and extremely rewarding when it works out.

Most of all, both my girlfriend and I have learned one vital lesson which I will pass on to you now. When entertaining for crowds, paper plates are an absolute god-send. Washing up is minimised and we had more time to enjoy the party!

TFB