Smashed #25

The UK restaurant scene digested

What makes a great restaurant experience?

From top left: roast carrots, tikka butter at Root, Wells; lamb seekh kebab at The Chilli Pickle, Brighton; homity tartlet at The Barrington Boar, Somerset; disco cauliflower at Maray, Liverpool; rhubarb cured sea bass at Nord, Liverpool; canapes at The Art School, Liverpool; beans on toast at Wreck, Liverpool; scouse at The Welford Bistro, Liverpool; apple terrine at Manifest, Liverpool.

Over the last month, I have been eating out more than usual. That has been partly because I’ve been researching a couple of articles, one for Delicious and one for olive magazine, partly because of some nice invites, and partly because it was my wife’s birthday. Consequently I’ve eaten my way around Somerset, Liverpool, Birmingham, Sussex and Brighton. I’ve eaten gastropub food at The Barrington Boar in Somerset, Italian cuisine at The Star at Alfriston, small plates at Maray and Nord in Liverpool and Root in Wells, small and large plates at Manifest in Liverpool and fried chicken at Alberta’s in Brighton among others. In all that time I’ve only had one bad experience.

I won’t say where (and it’s not any of the aforementioned places) but it started with a stale crouton the size of my thumb smeared with a microscopic amount of chicken liver parfait (not even a freebie, it was listed as the first course of the ‘chef’s menu’) and ended with one of those stupid desserts that’s a random assembly of crumbs and ice cream, the now ubiquitous shards of fucking meringue and, in this particular case, lumps of stale cake. In between came things that were cold that should have been hot, a raw thing that should have been fresher (I got the distinct impression throughout the meal that we were eating yesterday’s mise-en-place), things that had been cooked for too long, things that were pickled that never, ever should have been pickled and things that should have been tasty that lacked flavour, all topped off by a fair amount of indifferent service. We finally managed to get a bottle of rose wine to our table 40 minutes after we had sat down. It was delivered at room temperature.

To make matters worse, the chef and owner (a name you would probably recognise) was sat in the dining room with his back to the restaurant entertaining a group of what appeared to be his mates-down-from-London; fiddling while the pasta burnt. It was a particular shame as the meal was part of the aforementioned birthday trip and I chose the restaurant because I’d eaten there when it first opened, was really impressed and eager for my wife to try the place out. Maybe it was an off night, every restaurant has them. But it really felt like no one cared that much, that the heart had gone out the place. It was a feeling underlined by a truly shocking breakfast the next morning. The room was very nice though.

We didn’t complain because we are Those Sort of People. Who wants to cause a scene when you are away enjoying yourself? We did send a dish back but the replacement was no better. We probably should have given them feedback but it honestly felt like it would have been futile. There was so much wrong with the meal and the experience that it’s going to take more than a couple of tweaks based on a customer complaint to correct it. Our disappointment was brought into sharp focus by an excellent lunch on the same day and a wonderful dinner the prior evening. Again, I won’t say where as that will probably give away the location of the aberrant restaurant, but they both delivered deliciousness, generosity, hospitality and fantastic value. It’s not that difficult.

From top left: Korean fried chicken and meat donut at Kai Bai Bo, Liverpool; veal sweetbread with lemongrass curry and carrot at The Wilderness Birmingham; Jersey Royals with caviar at The Pass, South Lodge Hotel, Sussex; fried chicken at Alberta's , Brighton; spinach and ricotta tortelloni at The Star at Alfriston

I’m a food writer. Having been exposed to so many different sorts of restaurants in a relatively short period of time I must have come up with some searing, profound and original thoughts on what makes a great restaurant experience. I mean, I’ve been doing this for more than two decades, I must have something important to say.

Hmmm. My mind’s on the blink, I don’t know what to think.

Let’s just run through a few random thoughts and see if they amount to anything. Breakfast at Gary Usher’s Wreck bistro in Liverpool was just lovely. With it’s bare brick, polished floorboards and exposed ductwork, the room wouldn’t have looked out of place in early 90s downtown New York. It was flooded with sunshine, matched by the sunny disposition of the charming staff. I ordered the ‘nduja beans on toast and honestly wouldn’t have minded if they’d served me some tricked-up Heinz. Instead I got high quality borlotti (I think. I should know, or have checked shouldn’t I? What a rubbish food writer I am) on sourdough, a perfectly cooked fried egg and some good streaky bacon. The Merseyside Police had been kind enough to lay on entertainment and were busy raiding the club opposite which I thought was a nice touch. The only downside was that the filter coffee was absolutely awful. I mean ghastly. Almost undrinkable. I can still taste it now. I think they started making it when I left Brighton two days earlier. Urgh (ok, thanks Andy, that’s probably enough about the coffee - ed).

A lunch of Korean inspired fast food at Kai Bai Bo just a few doors up from Wreck was fun. I was the only customer in and got talking to the bloke cleaning the windows who asked me if it was my first time there. I told him it was and he said he’d been in something like 10 times and loved the place. He said he was about to launch a food business selling Lion’s Mane mushroom skewers and then told me about a recent foodie trip to Marseille. I told him I was eating my way around Liverpool for Delicious magazine. He’d never heard of it. No that much of a bloody foodie then. The Korean fried chicken was excellent.

I had lunch at The Wilderness with three wine experts a couple of weeks ago. The Wilderness is in the arse end of nowhere in Birmingham. It’s in the Jewellery Quarter actually, a 20 minute walk from my hotel. I got a cab because by that point I’d walked the equivalent of a marathon in Liverpool and the thought of taking another step made me want to cry because I am overweight and very unfit.

The room was a black as a teenage boy’s bedroom and the heavy metal music was very loud. I like heavy metal but as I’m partially deaf I don’t particularly enjoy in a restaurant at lunchtime when I’m trying to hear three wine experts trying to out do each other on the arcane knowledge front. I’m pretty sure someone said ‘malolactic fermentation’ at some point. I mean, they must have. The food was very good indeed. I loved the sweetbread with lemongrass curry (pictured above) in particular. The wines were great, even the Dagueneau 2018 opened up eventually. I was the first to note this, then everyone else pretended they’d said it first. I heard that at least.

I enjoyed a bowl of rustic scouse stew at The Welford Bistro in the magnificent surroundings of Liverpool Cathedral as much as a bowl of celeriac royal studded with beef cheek and served with a tartlet of beef fillet tartare as part of Ben Wilkinson’s considered, detailed, multifaceted tasting menu at The Pass restaurant at South Lodge Hotel. The scouse, some hefty chunks of beef and veg topped with pickled cabbage and served with homemade focaccia might have taken less time and less skill to cook than Wilkinson’s exquisite creation, but both had evidently been made with care and attention and both tasted fantastic. When I ate the scouse, I was hungry tired and in need of something comforting and restorative and it really hit the spot. At The Pass, I was up for a long form meal and the variety and interest a tasting menu can deliver. Context, as they say, is not a myth.

An excellent wine pairing with the tasting menu at The Art School in Liverpool, delivered with just the right amount of knowledge and enthusiasm elevated the experience. The Pavillon de Leoville Poyferre 2016 from Saint Julian in Bordeaux was a particular treat with a sirloin of Cumbrian Galloway beef. I also enjoyed a pint of The Chilli Pickle’s own brand session lager with a magnificent lamb seekh kebab served on a stretched chilli naan (pictured above) at the much loved Brighton restaurant. Less classy than the beef and Bordeaux perhaps but just as satisfying.

So, what’s my food-writerly conclusion from all this field research? It’s an obvious one I’m afraid. Diverse and disparate as they were, the one thing that all the good and great experiences detailed above shared was a bit of love. When owners, chefs and front of house care about their business and their customers it just really shows. It also very easy to spot when they don’t.

Having spent a bit of time in Liverpool, it seems appropriate to leave the last words to The Beatles (I visited The Beatles Museum and took the Magical Mystery Tour while I was there. The first song I heard when I arrived in the city was a terrible cover version of Across The Universe. You cannot escape The Beatles in Liverpool, they are like a religious miracle and there are pilgrims everywhere) who, on The End sang the famous phrase ‘And in the end, The love you take, Is equal to the love you make.’