167. A List of All West Midlands Michelin-Listed Restaurants, 2021 Edition.

  

 

Among my many faults, I’ve come to realise as the years have passed, is that I like lists and sometimes - but not consistently - I am pedantic, though this is mainly when someone who ought to know better makes an error which they really should not have done.

  Thus, though I frequently moan about guides such as the Michelin Guide Great Britain and Ireland and the now defunct Good Food Guide I do like to read them because there are really great big lists of places in which I am interested. I also like books and collecting things and therefore it is not surprising that I like to collect Michelin Guides which are books made up of long lists.

  It isn’t surprising therefore that I feel a vague and ridiculous pain at the knowledge that a gap in my Michelin Guide book year by year collection will exist forever because the 2021 edition is available only in digital format. There will always be a little hole in my world which should have been filled by the 2021 Michelin Guide printed edition. Nobody ever said life should be perfect. 

  The digital edition has its advantages I suppose but it’s not a book, a joyous, tactile, book-scented little bundle with pages to flick through backwards and forwards. I find a book less annoying to use and you never need to recharge its battery. And despite all this clever technology the text has its errors which make the pedant in me chafe.

  This Blog in part gradually makes up a history of dining out in the West Midlands and so I like to list every year the restaurants which appear in the Michelin Guide but this year, though I necessarily did it for those in Birmingham I have not covered the broad sweep of the totality of the West Midlands - Staffordshire, Shropshire, Herefordshire, West Midlands county, Warwickshire, Worcestershire and Gloucestershire, the Seven Counties of Mercia we might call them with a large amount of quite unnecessary pomposity. I have not done so up till now because I find the digital Guide a little tiresome to travel around but girding up my loins I now do so for posterity’s sake. But before I do allow me to let the inner pedant out and tell the Michelin editor that Broadway is NOT in Gloucestershire.

By county - 

Staffordshire - 

Duncombe Arms B Ellastone

The Boat Inn O Lichfield 

The George O Alstonefield

99 Station Street O Burton Upon Trent

The Red Lion O Bradley

Larder O Lichfield

Shropshire - 

Charlton Arms B Ludlow

Sebastians O Oswestry

Mortimers O Ludlow

French Pantry O Ludlow

The Haughmond O Upper Magna

Wild Shropshire O Whitchurch

The Walrus O Shrewsbury 

Docket No 33 O Whitchurch 

Old Downtown Lodge O Ludlow

Forelles O Ludlow

Herefordshire - 

Stagg Inn O Titley

Kilpeck Inn O Kilpeck

The Oak Wigmore O Wigmore

County of West Midlands - 

Opheem * Birmingham 

Purnell’s * Birmingham 

Adam’s * Birmingham 

Carter’s of Moseley * Birmingham 

Peel’s * Hampton in Arden

Simpsons* Birmingham 

The Oyster Club by Adam Stokes O Birmingham 

Craft O Birmingham 

The Wilderness O Birmingham 

Opus O Birmingham 

Chakana O Moseley Birmingham 

Pulperia O Birmingham 

Folium O Birmingham 

About Eight O Birmingham 

Asha’s O Birmingham 

Harborne Kitchen O Harborne Birmingham 

670 Grams O Birmingham

Bilash O Wolverhampton (which is of course in West Midlands and not Staffordshire which is where the Michelin editor seems to think the city is located)

Warwickshire -

The Cross at Kenilworth * Kenilworth

Salt * Stratford upon Avon

The Royal Oak * Whatcote

Howard Arms O Ilmington

Woodsman O Stratford upon Avon 

No 9 Church Street O Stratford upon Avon 

Fuzzy Duck O Armscote

Lambs O Stratford upon Avon 

Cheal’s of Henley O Henley in Arden

Boot Inn O Lapworth 

Tailors O Warwick

Rooftop O Stratford upon Avon 

Bower House O Shipston on Stour

Worcestershire -

Pensons * Tenbury Wells

The Inn at Welland B Welland

Venture Inn O Ombersley

The Butchers Arms O Eldersfield

Eckington Manor O Eckington

Old Rectifying Yard O Worcester

Russell’s  O Broadway (which of course is in Worcestershire and not Gloucestershire where the Michelin Guide editor seems to think the town is located)

Buckland Manor O Broadway (again Worcestershire not Gloucestershire)

The Back Garden O Broadway (Worcestershire not Gloucestershire, these Michelin people seem to think that just because a town is in the Cotswolds it must be in Gloucestershire)

Gloucestershire -

Le Champignon Sauvage * Cheltenham  

Curry Corner O Cheltenham 

GL50 O Cheltenham 

Atrium O Upper Slaughter

Ebrington Arms O Cheltenham 

Daylesford Organic Farm O Daylesford 

5 North Street O Winchcombe

Purslane O Cheltenham 

The Barn at Severn and Wye O Westbury on Severn 

Lumière O Cheltenham 

East India Cafe O Cheltenham 

Ox Barn O Southrop

Swan O Southrop

Old Butchers 0 Stow On The Wold 

Prithvi O Cheltenham 

Feathered Nest O Nether Westcote

Churchill Arms O Paxford

Conservatory O Tetbury 

Wilder O Nailsworth

The Bull O Fairford 

Bhoomi Kitchen O Cheltenham 

Gumstool Inn O Tetbury

Daffodil O Cheltenham 

O = plate

B = Bib Gourmand

* = 1 Michelin star

** = 2 Michelin stars.

So there we have it, the roll of Michelin-listed West Midlands restaurants of 2021 recorded on one page. There are 

11 one star restaurants (6 in West Midlands, 3 in Warwickshire, 1 in Worcestershire and 1 in Gloucestershire)

3 Bibs Gourmands (1 each in Staffordshire, Shropshire and Worcestershire) and

68 Michelin plates (5 in Staffordshire, 9 in Shropshire, 12 in West Midlands, 3 in Herefordshire, 10 in Warwickshire, 7 in Worcestershire, and 22 in Gloucestershire).

  Gastronomy was alive and kicking across the seven counties when this list was published but I notice one or two of the restaurants listed here have gone to restaurant heaven since then but let us hope that when the 2022 Michelin Guide is published more will have sprung up to replace those who have fallen by the wayside. And also let us hope it is published as a paper version. Oh! and perhaps the editor could brush up his/her English Midlands geography a little.

166. In Stratford Another Sad Farewell - To The Scullery.

 

  And this is how it happened. Lucy The Labrador and I were back in Stratford and I wanted to have another happy evening enjoying Chef Andrew Edwards’ wonderful food (see Blog 80) which he has been serving since 2014 in his charming little restaurant in Greenhill Street, No 33 The Scullery. I took a quick look at Tripadviser to see what the latest vox populi had to say about this darling little place only to discover that it had completely disappeared from the listings. Alarmed, I scurried through the internet trying to find out what was happening and discovered that it had been rebranded, and it seemed reasonable to me to tie it more to Shakespeare, as Prospero. I thought that was a clever move by Mr Edwards, putting the days of the lockdown behind the restaurant, except that a well established brand had disappeared which could hurt trade and, as I was to discover, the rebranding had not been carried out by Andrew Edwards.

  There was a bit of a do trying to get a reservation - one day none were available, the following day, thinking I would just check, there was no problem securing a reservation at my preferred time. 

 On the arranged day I arrived at 7PM expecting the restaurant to be quite busy but in actuality only one other table was taken. I received a pleasant greeting from a charming lady I recalled from a previous visit and was seated at a table of my choice noting as I did that though the restaurant had been rebranded the decor at least was unchanged what with its Jack Vettriano prints and quotes about dining and food.

  I was asked if I wished to order a drink. I asked for a Cotswold Gin and tonic but was told that the restaurant only sold Gordon’s plus one or two of its flavoured gins. I assumed it was reasonable to limit the options when a period of financial upheaval has taken place and pragmatically chose rhubarb and ginger flavoured Gordon’s which was pretty unpleasant. The menu had been drastically pared back as well. The ‘Specials’ blackboard had disappeared and there were only 4 choices for each course on the menu, though one of the starters and one of the main courses were not available, a state of affairs for which the very nice front of house lady apologised. But I was glad was that some of The Scullery’s great dishes did still feature on the list of dishes. And I went for their previously excellent scallop starter and the stone bass main course which had previously been quite fabulous there.

  The scallops, very well priced, were a great pleasure, perfectly cooked and with a joyous sweetness that I had not experienced in other more expensive restaurants recently. The presentation was a little odd with the scallops themselves looking very pretty with again perfectly prepared samphire a delicious liquor sitting in a shell but the shell itself balanced somewhat inelegantly on a plate with an apt but lonely-looking rasher of bacon and three peaks of inapt mashed sweet potato. The shells themselves would have been much the preferable with perhaps little cubes of bacon or pancetta added to the scallops in them.

  The stone bass main course, cooked extremely well and so delightfully simply, served attractively with mussels and summer vegetables, was delicious and was not far from being as good as the first stone bass I had at The Scullery some years ago and which was so exquisite that it remains a happy memory with me. A dish to give great pleasure and again very reasonably priced. 

  I was curious to know about the rebranding and I discovered that Andrew Edwards had sold the restaurant - I was sad to hear it - and a new unidentified chef had prepared the meal. I suspect the new chef had worked there before as the dishes could all be described if works of art as “After Edwards”. The new chef had obviously been an attentive pupil. More alarming was the revelation that the new owner had also taken over other local businesses - a pub was named which in my perusal of Tripadviser had recently attracted a lot of adverse comments - and the alarm bells began to ring that this sweet little local restaurant had fallen into the hands of a profit-first merchant, hence the reduced menus and drinks options. Stratford has far too many so-so bistros in Sheep Street all owned by the same proprietor without the loss of The Scullery. We will see what develops. Meanwhile it has to be noted that though there were few diners food was very slow coming out of the kitchen. Perhaps the new chef is finding his or her feet given that the Prospero opened only last week.

  I chose one of the three desserts on offer - a vast and not attractively presented Eton Mess. To be fair I enjoyed the ice cream element for sure but it seemed that a single finely chopped-up strawberry had found its way into the dish. This was an interesting if inaccurate twist on the term ‘Fine dining’.

  I departed Prospero having broadly enjoyed my meal but feeling wistful and anxious. I hope this pleasing little restaurant can maintain the standards and principles established by Andrew Edwards when he first opened it. The food there has given much pleasure over the years. And so I say to No 33 The Scullery, “Now cracks a noble heart - Good night sweet Prince. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest”.

Andrew Edwards of No 33 The Scullery.

 Meanwhile there is some optimism to be felt in Stratford - I hear that the Mercure Shakespeare Hotel, previously home to a mediocre Marco Pierre White New York-style restaurant which in an unseemly fashion replaced Shakespeare with White, is unlikely to be replaced by another branded chain restaurant but instead will have its own in-house restaurant and, fingers crossed, possibly a good one. The Falcon has The Woodsman, and look how successful that is, so there may be hope of something good materialising at the historic Shakespeare.

164. Colmore Sojourn.

 High summer. Those who love to watch football were experiencing growing excitement that the English national team would win the Euro 2020 Championships (Hope springs eternal) and Lucy The Labrador and I had reservations to stay at the Grand Hotel in Colmore Row/Church Street once more.

  There was a bit of a crisis there as a number of the hotel staff had been pinged by the NHS COVID-19 mobile phone application to warn them that they had been in contact with someone who had tested positive for the viral infection and were therefore ‘self-isolating’. This resulted in Isaac’s, the hotel’s New York-style restaurant, being closed for dinner during our stay which was unfortunate as I had hoped to give it another try after experiencing some disappointment on my first visit.

  I had a reservation for myself at About 8 (see previous Blog) for the first evening of my stay at The Grand but, being determined to make the most of my stay at that very splendid hotel, I passed a happy half hour in the hotel’s Madeleine bar, soothing myself with an Antique Negroni, and luxuriating in the atmosphere. So pleasurable was this that I ensured that I repeated this self-indulgence throughout my stay at the hotel and tried out the food on offer there.

  For lunch I chose nothing more complicated or less luxurious than the lobster roll - not absolutely spectacular, but thoroughly enjoyable with little pieces of lobster bathed in an appealing seafood sauce and lettuce all contained beautifully in a delicious brioche.

  For one lunch, I ordered The Grand’s charcuterie and cheese platter. The waiter, mistakenly as it turned out, thought that it would not be an adequate amount of food to satiate my appetite and so I also ordered ‘King oyster mushroom calamari’ which despite mentioning two types of seafood in its title took the form of mushroom rings perfectly deep fried in breadcrumbs with aioli. I was not completely convinced by the texture but it was all very edible. The charcuterie platter was as much as I needed and included tasty venison salami, Bayonnes ham and a dreamy parfait with a choice of cheeses - I had Berkswell, Comté and an enjoyable, creamy ewe’s cheese. The platter was very nicely served with little slices of pleasantly chewy baguette with a fine butter.

  For supper one evening, after a slightly disappointing lunch at nearby Purnell’s, I had the excellent fish goujons served with a delicious tartare sauce and blackened lime. These were three meaty generously-sized goujons, like a superior mini- fish and chips without the chips though I did have the ‘hash browns’ (small portions of potato terrine with blobs of brown sauce riding on them) as an accompaniment so it was almost like fish and chips.

  I adore Madeleine. What a very real pleasure it is to sink into the comfort of its deeply luxurious sofas and gape at the magnificence of its looming ceilings, spectacular lighting and cathedral-like windows. In its entirety it is an art work sitting in the middle of Colmore Row, as much the centre of Birmingham as ancient New Street (Brummagem’s own oxymoron) and Chamberlain’s Corporation Street or the ever-changing, usually for the worse, Bull Ring. Long may the new Grand flourish if viruses, clean air zones, incompetent city councils and home working allow it to do so. And long too may it continue to serve its fabulous breakfasts in Isaac’s restaurant with its staff that make you glad to be starting the day.

  The Full English breakfast already tried out and highlighted in Blog 150, I moved on to sampling the delightful American-style pancakes with a generous portion of berry compôte and slices of orange and a very happy maple syrup. Conclusion - a great pleasure which must be repeated. 

  Again the restaurant staff are wonderful, I was offered sausages to take back to my room where Lucy The Labrador, rapidly becoming a hotel celebrity, was waiting for any treat that might come her way. Mr Peter Kienast, the immaculately dressed and distinguished-looking hotel general manager, in the restaurant to speak to the breakfasting guests, himself suggested Lucy have a sausage sent to her and how could one refuse such an offer from such a gentleman? Lucy would never have forgiven me if I had declined the offer.

  As already mentioned I had lunch one day at another of the Colmore District’s great hospitality entities - Purnell’s just a couple of minutes away from The Grand. This remains my favourite restaurant in the city, it’s just absolutely spot on - the right sort of atmosphere, staff who know precisely how to attend to their customers and of course great food, sometimes witty and original and always precise and admirable. A few dishes sometimes are a little wide of the mark but there is rarely anything to moan about. Well, up to now at any rate.

  I chose the 5 course lunch menu. This offered as usual the very moreish edible charcoal, black potatoes with chorizo dip, a half-sized Purnell’s chip and some impeccably light and tasty pain de campagne. Then a first starter the details of which I have forgotten though I seem to recall it included in it, almost inevitably, little pieces of heritage tomato covered over by a fairly flavourless tuile, the dish made pretty with little blue flowers and the all pervading nasturtium leaf. Next the second starter of a bijou-sized piece of grilled mackerel, tasty enough, on a slice of Jersey Royal potato with herbs and radish. It was a forgettable dish though once more, very pretty and decorative.

  I was starting to feel uneasy about this meal. With all the financial rigours of the last 18 months, was Purnell’s able to produce a lunch for £55 that was worth bothering about? Maybe it’s worth paying more and have more expensive ingredients rather than pretty little plates with undistinguished elements. All would be revealed.

  The hilariously titled Fish de Jour course brought us …skate. Well cooked but a flimsy and somewhat inconsequential fish when stood against the pleasures that the world of fish has to offer. The fish was served with some bumptious and meaty mussels and a St Austell mussel chowder which brought a smile to the face but I asked myself, was it really worth bothering with a small piece of skate?

  And then, at last, something with a bit of body to it - an attractive ballotine  of chicken, served stuffed with delicious but powerfully flavoured truffle and with undercooked broccoli sprig, tapenade and to crown it all, cep purée. The chicken, a little dry, was overwhelmed by the triple whammy of cep, olive and truffle - it never stood a chance. This was autumn in July. What was Chef up to?

  

Dessert brought with it a pleasant sablé biscuit with Parma violets ice cream and various fussy little bits to provide texture and extra tastes though at the end of the day it was just an excellent biscuit and ice cream.

  Oh dear. I was not in a particularly grumpy mood that day and just being in Purnell’s had made me a happy man but I could not really get to grips with this meal. I am happy to pay more for a meal with more significant elements but please don’t make me have an enormous multi-course tasting menu which overwhelms my ability to consume it to ensure that I get high status food ingredients in the dishes I have. If a special meal can not be produced in a restaurant on a tight budget, and anyone with brains and knowledge of what’s been happening in recent history might understand that, then it’s best to ask people to pay more and push the boat out for something really special. 

  These are hard times for the wonderful people who work in the hospitality industry; staff are hard to find, everything is uncertain, financial pressures must be intolerable. We consumers must be patient and ride out the storm with those who work hard to deliver a service to us and continue to support them while the ‘new normal’ is being achieved. I think prices are going to rise and and old favourites will be lost.

  Purnell’s Bistro has closed for good sadly and will be replaced by a more rural establishment but Purnell’s, I’m told, is here to stay, though I note its 15 year lease expires next year. 

  Meanwhile, the restaurant in Brindley Place, Maribel, has shut for good and the site is being advertised for someone contemplating opening a new restaurant there. I liked Maribel but feel that it was not in the right place, it just could not attract enough customers or at least that’s how it seemed whenever I visited there, whether it was called Edmund’s or something else. I fear for whoever thinks that it will be a good idea to take the site on to open yet another incarnation of a fine restaurant there.

163. A Bit Rich At Eight

 

 

 With a treasured memory of my first visit to Andrew Sheridan’s About Eight on its night of opening to the public many months ago, though it seems like decades have passed since then, and in particular of a celestial venison Wellington which had its own immortality, I arrived at Craft/Eight with the anticipation of a puppy which has had a plate of grilled sausages wafted under its nose.

 

 After a gratifying “Welcome back” I was shown to a small room, all black and red velveteen with little cubicles with three couples sitting sipping drinks and looking a little self-conscious. We were invited to watch a short video on screens well above our heads - old men shouldn’t be asked to perform such cervical spine gymnastics I fear - and unfortunately as I spent so much time adjusting my neck into a comfortable position I missed entirely what was being shown on the video though it might have had something to do with sustainability or it might not.  Thence to the familiar and welcome sight of the old Craft bar to take our socially distanced bar seats for the drama to begin in earnest.

  And things got off to a bang of exceptional gustatory pleasure. Three delightful little appetisers, each delicious, and presented attractively so that it seemed a pity to eat anything and ruin the the display on the counter, including, I think, and my aging memory of 8 courses rapidly fails me, a wonderful little cornet with parfait in it.

  On to the main menu, presented now in a ‘comic book’ form rendering as little information about each dish as possible. The names of the courses were given and that was about it, the names, as far as I recall, were little or at all altered from my visit last autumn and were all twists on the word ‘eight’ and all related to landmarks in Andrew Sheridan’s career. The restaurant’s website features this menu which I think tells us what I was served during this gastronomic experience, which is a more  accurate description of the evening than the word “meal”.

  I had unintentionally ordered, and apparently paid for, the drinks flight which included only 2 wines, the rest being mixed drinks, some of them original concoctions, some intriguing, invented by Craft’s drinks manager. Well, it was interesting to try them.

  Details of the dishes here will necessarily be scanty as I have forgotten many of them and the explanations for the dishes were, shall we say, detailed, but the little tart with its ubiquitous heritage tomatoes made from excellent pastry (tomatoes are inescapable as every restaurant in the land is putting them on the menu even though this year’s batch does not  actually seem to be all that tasty) was pleasing.

  

Then an excellent dish of cod with caviar and a lot else besides (one of my favourite course, especially the super sticky little slice of brioche that accompanied it); then a bowl of what I suppose might be described as a soup which included carrot which had had multiple culinary processes applied to it, plus little cubes of swede, tasty but I felt worn out half way through by the need to nibble on the chunks of vegetable so I drank the liquid and left some of the solids.

 

 To be frank, this was all proving to be interesting and tasty, but a little wearing and not yet outstanding despite the effort that must have gone into preparing these dishes and the pride that Chef and his team were taking in the preparation and presentation of the dishes. Next, a “pork sandwich” of a ‘soldier’ of bread with pork and little pickles on it. The meat and pickles were fine but I left the bread which was not much fun to eat. But then came a truly triumphant dish of a ceviche of scallops, in generous amounts, with various preparations of apple; this was the most happily memorable course, clever  and delicious.

  And so to the main meat course, happy dreams of venison Wellington came to me in flashbacks, like PNUS (post non-traumatic unstressed syndrome), my eyes were searching it out like a Labrador sniffing out a tempting morsel in the bag of shopping which has just arrived. And Chef served us … three little slices of Wagyu beef. Tasty. An expensive, luxurious and real gourmets, I suppose, would say, an exceptional ingredient but well, let’s face it, now you see it, now you’ve eaten it. The rich dish, building on a series of what seemed like a series of increasingly rich dishes (the scallops were a respite) was further enriched with truffle. Praiseworthy indeed but was an old bloke’s stomach up to it?

  Two desserts to go. A truly enjoyable lemon cake and then a twist on mint chocolates with a minty chocolate mousse under a crispy minty chocolate layer. Very good but as rich as Croesus (not that you’d eat Croesus obviously). The young people around me made short order of everything and were having a thrilling time with the various dishes but for those of us with older gastrointestinal tracts it was just all a bit too rich. Perhaps there’s room for a fine-dining restaurant for old people who still like a bit of gastronomic adventure and appreciate fine food but are just not built now to live up to Chefs’ expectations. Or maybe every restaurant should just have a sensible à la carte menu. Of course that does not apply to About Eight which is a concept and a story and now an experience rather than a meal.

  That was not the end. There was one last dish which sent the richness of the meal into the stratosphere - Horlicks - invented by the bar manager, a killer combination of cream and Horlicks, destined to destroy any resistance an old person’s gastric viscera were putting up and by necessity, some had to be left in the bottom of the cup it was served in.

 

   Sheridan is a great chef but has About Eight just become a little self-indulgent, from opening video to closing Horlicks? I think it probably has.

162. Broadway. A Difference In Styles.

 

  After a stay in Birmingham’s reopened and prestigious Grand Hotel, onwards and southwards to what is possibly the most prestigious hotel of all in the West Midlands - the incomparable Lygon Arms in the beautiful town of Broadway at the southernmost tip of Worcestershire. This hotel has more English history than the House of Windsor (Charles II was hovering around here before the battle of Worcester or was it Cromwell or was it both?). It also has room rates which also match those of London hotels but it does take dogs and in large numbers. Which is why we were staying here despite the bill. Lucy The Labrador was quickly made to feel at home. But what about the food it served up?

  The first evening I dined in the large historic dining room, its walls covered by rather nice mostly aged paintings, atmospheric and vaguely thrilling. The menu suggested that the price of the food might match the room rates. I was expecting something sumptuous, a prestigious menu, something fitting to its surroundings. 

  I have been puzzled up until now as to why the Lygon Arms has not featured in the pages of the Michelin Guide. And now the reason is clear - the management are clearly not at all interested in doing anything to enable it to find its place on that venerable list. What is served in the Lygon Arms Bar and Grill restaurant is moderately expensive but without anything about it that would connect it with modern fine dining. Food is served, much of it very well cooked, in a manner than expels from one’s mind any thought of current fine dining.

  The waiting staff are kitted out in blue shirts with tight jeans which does not really suit some of the weightier staff and the costume seems inappropriate in a restaurant where some of the diners are turning up in lounge suits or evening wear. The restaurant is not short of customers, the large space being filled mid-evening, and the service is reasonably efficient and professional but not as relaxed as the jeans/blue shirt uniform suggests it should be. The menu is a large sheet reminiscent of the sort you find in a chain restaurant serving burgers. It all seemed less than you might expect in such a prestigious restaurant which on two occasions in the past, under different regimes, has been the home of Michelin star holders.

  Regardless, after some prevarication I chose a starter of smoked ham hock and rabbit terrine served with gooseberry jam and sourdough. The serving of terrine was generously sized, what a steak of mammoth might have looked like in its day, and there were flashes of the flavour of ham hock, but on the whole the dish was untidy-looking, lacking in flavour - vaguely watery - and generally disappointing. Not to be repeated.

 

 The main course was a different kettle of fish (quite literally). Again the main ingredient was exceptionally generously portioned - simple perfectly pan-fried cod. Someone in the kitchen knows how to cook fish without resorting to a water bath. A joyous piece of fish which would have been quite perfect served with summery peas (which it was plus fine pea velouté and refreshing pea shoots) and buttery new potatoes (which it sadly was not but instead they were substituted by pea gnocchi which though once more generous in the amount served turned out to be chewy and doughy and again not accompanied by any real amount of flavour). Still the fish was excellent. Rustic, generous, tasty, pleasurable. Minus the gnocchi a great dish.

  

It’s summer. What better than strawberries (served in a profusion) and whipped cream and some meringue to boot)? Simple, uncomplicated, delicious, seasonal, English. But let’s face it, though a great and deep pleasure not really Fine Dining as we know it. Perhaps we should be heading back to this generous simplicity. Perhaps that’s the thinking of those responsible for delivering food to satisfy the hotel’s guests. But it’s almost bordering on 1950s and 60s cuisine in its approach to modernity. And it’s not too much to hope for ambitious and exciting food when you are paying a lot of money to stay at places like the Lygon Arms. Or perhaps we should all be adjusting our ambitions in this post-COVID age.

  And so to something completely different. Russell’s of Broadway. From the ancient halls of the Lygon Arms to the now. Light, bright, of our times, it looks just right for 2021. And the food is absolutely spot on. This restaurant is already Michelin-plated and looks to be heading to greater heights though a little fine-tuning is needed to push it over the line.

 

 Two points. There are a good number of front-of-house staff (though mostly young and probably not that experienced nor committed to a life in the hospitality business) but no-one asked me if I wanted water and worse, no-one was aware that I was waiting to be asked if I wanted a dessert - I was in a sort of limbo between the main course and what came next. You get what you pay for but if the restaurant is going to advance should it be offering one or two little extras, as Glynn Purnell calls them, “gifts from the kitchen”?

  So, straight to the starter. Was this the best I’ve had so far this year? Very possibly. Generous amounts of elegantly presented ceviche of succulent Orkney scallops in carrot vinegar served with bell pepper and tomato salsa and the right amount of crunch provided by toasted almonds with little explosions of ginger scattered throughout. This pretty dish promised much and delivered everything.

  For the main course I chose Cotswold white chicken, exquisitely presented, served with fine fondant potato, beautifully complementary Savoy cabbage and bacon with a truffle cream sauce. A second wholly delicious dish in a row, satisfying  and deeply pleasurable.

 

 

 And, though for a while it seemed that I would never see one, my dessert arrived - a cherry bakewell soufflé and cherry sorbet. An excellent soufflé with the flavour of Bakewell tart easily perceptible. The sorbet was good too.

  This meal undoubtedly had been a great modern fine dining experience though without a few of the extras that one has come to expect in many fine dining restaurants but to be fair I didn’t particularly miss them as the three main elements had been so enjoyable. Russell’s - one to watch and one to go back to. 

  And on our final night I dined again in the Lygon Arms Bar And Grill determined to enter into the spirit of the place. This time they played a blinder. As starter I chose what the restaurant sees as a signature dish - a profoundly pleasurable twice baked Emmental soufflé. Generously sized, as with everything at the Lygon Arms but feather light, good looking, and very delicious. Just look at this (not so) little beauty:-

  And just to prove I had fully entered into the spirit of the place I chose fried battered cod and chips with mushy peas, tartare sauce and burnt lemon. And so I say goodbye to ‘Fine dining’ and submerge myself in the joy of simple old fashioned pleasure. Everything about the dish was immaculate - perfectly cooked fish, crispy and light batter, better-than-average chips, fabulous peas mushed to just the right consistency and exquisitely minted and an excellent tartare sauce which was so well judged it could almost have been a course in itself. Oh, and I loved the little sauce boat containing the very down-to-earth and vital malt vinegar.Of course the amount served was generous once more and my old bloke’s stomach could not possibly have coped with a dessert. But I was content - very content - and Michelin listing or not I felt that the Bar and Grill had served me well.

  Having been served a rather impressive ham and cheese omelette for breakfast the day before I went one step further and ordered an omelette Arnold Bennett for my final day’s breakfast at The Lygon Arms. It arrived glowing in melted cheesy goldenness looking as unctuous as it was in the eating. Underneath lay the excellent omelette with smoked haddock in a gorgeous sauce. The presence of a couple of fish bones did not unnerve me too much to stop me appreciating the success of this 1930s classic, rarely offered in hotel restaurants, and I reached the conclusion that The Lygon Arms can indeed serve up fine food experiences, hard to enjoy elsewhere but in a style that perhaps the self-anointed food lover might not exactly recognise as being of the moment. So lovers of West Midlands food, Broadway with the contrasting styles of Russell’s and The Lygon Arms, plus the many attractions of the town, is a necessary destination in this ancient land of Mercia.