Although Birmingham has always been my home, I worked in and had a little house in, Sheffield, across the border from northern Mercia in the dark lands of Yorkshire. I worked there from 1981 to 2004 and I can tell you far more about the dining scene there, what little there was of it at the time, during those important years of English gastronomic history from practical experience than I can of West Midlands food at that time. I still visit friends there sometimes and go out to dine to find out what’s hot there, so to speak, especially as Sheffield is presently on a crest of trendiness.
And so, once more, Lucy The Labrador and I set out from Stratford upon Avon where I had sat through six hours of violence and murder at the RSC watching the second and third parts of Henry VI and was pleasantly surprised the plays had not been murdered too much by their director, Owen Horsley, as some of the other directors there might have been expected to do, and headed for the foreign territory across the border in South Yorkshire. This might have been problematical as I had been an ardent supporter of the Lancastrians in the plays but I thought I would not mention this partisanship to anyone I came across during my stay in this land of the Yorkists.
On my first evening in Sheffield my dining companion had suggested we dine at Vero Gusto, a family-run local favourite Italian restaurant in town which was opened in 2006 and, though Italian cuisine does not rank too highly in my list of favourite dining categories, this seemed like a reasonable proposition to me. And there was much to be pleased about.
Unfortunately we were dining there when men, in considerable numbers, who were attending the ongoing snooker competition at the Crucible Theatre, and who were more rowdy than Jack Cade’s mob who attempted to bring down Henry VI’s government, had occupied most of the restaurant and there was a veritable hubbub with the staff looking somewhat stressed. The welcome, I think in consequence of that, was brisk and not warm. We were also parked up a narrow section of the restaurant at an inadequately sized table close to a table of noisy snooker enthusiasists which was not a happy start.
Still we coped with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and dug in for the evening. And how delighted we were that we did so.
I chose a starter of splendidly cheesy and truffley ravioli stracchino and tartuffo nero. The pasta was fine and a scattering of chopped roasted peanuts gave added texture. An excellent start. My dining companion enjoyed his asparagus soup served with focaccia and bread sticks.
No comments:
Post a Comment