Le Nid, Flayosc - version française

La Balade Gourmande - Dîner pour 4 - Mardi 9 juillet 2024

Oui, l'image ci-dessus est celle par défaut lorsque j'ai accédé au site Web de ce restaurant au Royaume-Uni.
Mais n’ayez crainte, s’il vous plaît. Ce qui suit est destiné à vous, nos amis français. Je pense qu'il est juste et approprié de proposer quelques mots dans votre langue maternelle pour décrire notre délicieux repas.
Un repas que j'imagine que vous avez tous apprécié également. Vous l'avez... n'est-ce pas !

Et si mes compétences linguistiques m'abandonnent, veuillez excuser - ou apprécier - mes erreurs.

D'accord. Allons-y!

Quelle délicieuse trouvaille. Nous voulions offrir à de bons amis un repas de fête pour leur 50e anniversaire de mariage tout en séjournant avec eux à Lorgues, en France. Après avoir réservé pour le mercredi 10, l’équipe masculine de football d’Angleterre a atteint la demi-finale de l’EURO24 qui se jouera ce soir-là. Ce qui nous a fait réfléchir. Des places étaient disponibles la veille; sans doute à cause de la participation de la France à l'autre demi-finale.* Nous sommes intervenus et avons sécurisé notre repas. ​

Le chef Davy Jobard et son épouse Émilie contrôlent totalement la nourriture et l'hospitalité que vous recevrez. Tout en s'appuyant sur le travail acharné et les bons ingrédients des producteurs locaux, les plats que vous propose Emilie avec une compréhension et un charme incontestables ont été conçus et préparés uniquement par Davy. Alors qu'il se détendait à la fin du service, j'ai demandé au chef combien de personnes composaient sa brigade de cuisine. "C'est moi, seul." fut sa réponse discrètement modeste.

Notre introduction a été cette offre inattendue qui n'est pas annoncée au menu. Je dis «inattendue» mais, bien sûr, nous étions en compagnie d’hôtes généreux.

Amuse
Espuma de pomme de terre, herbes, œufs de saumon

L'influence méditerranéenne, ainsi qu'un tournant vers les saveurs d'Afrique du Nord et du Moyen-Orient ont sous-tendu une grande partie de la soirée. Mais vous reconnaîtrez des notes provençales insistantes dans presque tous ces plats. La chair de la tomate locale formait une cloche sur la morue molle. Le gaspacho favouille était pour moi une nouvelle variante des soupes, bisques et sauces de crabe, de poisson de roche, et de crustacés. Peut-être que le safran était impliqué ici, mais la légèreté de l'ensemble du mélange le rendait adapté aux repas d'été.

La Tomate de Flayosc, Chiquetaille de morue / Gaspacho de favouille / fines herbes.

Quelqu'un a dit provençal ? Eh bien, voici de la ratatouille accompagnée d'un mélange d'ingrédients de pistou et de tapenade. Des légumes frais et vibrants étaient surmontés d'un jaune confit pour donner une touche d'émulsion riche lorsqu'ils sont abordés. Le menu anglais a une fausse traduction désarmante qui suggère que le jaune a été «candied». Ne pas s'inquiéter. Tout ce qui rappelle vaguement les fruits sirupeux apparaîtra plus tard.

La fine ratatouille, servi froide, Jaune d’œuf confit / courgette trompette.

Poisson au premier plan ensuite. De bons ingrédients combinés pour offrir une assiette bien équilibrée. Tous les éléments ont ajouté plutôt que nui au plat, avec des textures plus douces explorées.

Le Maigre de nos côtes, Cocos de Pays/ petites girolles d’été / jus à la livèche.

L'agneau était riche mais rendu moins lourd grâce à des légumes parfaitement cuits. Le caviar d'aubergines a été particulièrement réussi et sera repris dans notre cuisine avant que l'été ne fasse ses adieux.

Compression d’épaule d’’Agneau de nos bergers provençaux, aux épices / légumes / caviar d’aubergines.

Château Demonpère Proposé par Emilie pour accompagner l'agneau

La carte des vins est extrêmement alléchante. Pas trop effrayant mais l'accent mis sur les vins provençaux et du Rhône offre de nombreux délices. Notre choix de blanc s'est bien marié avec du poisson, des légumes et du fromage. Pouvoir ajouter un rouge de la sélection « Vins au verre » est une idée tellement judicieuse.

La décision d'inclure un plat de fromage a présenté un défi supplémentaire pour notre capacité gastrique, mais a ajouté encore plus de profils de saveurs à notre expérience. La combinaison de la douceur acidulée du fromage avec des fruits et des herbes constituait un très bon pont entre le plat principal et le dessert. « L’Ami Thomas » qui est référencé sur la carte comme producteur de fromage est originaire de La Ferme de la Bastide de Sollies. Vous pouvez en voir davantage (et ses chèvres !) sur ces liens Facebook et Instagram.

Le Chèvre frais de l’Ami Thomas, Pastèque / fenouil sauvage.

Le dessert fait souvent sortir les invités d’un repas avec un léger gémissement. Pas ici. La retenue, le croquant, la douceur et l’intrigue de l’olive confite indiquent que l’intention du chef est restée forte jusqu’au bout. La glace aux amandes était parfaite.

L’Amande / Fleur d’oranger / Olive noir maturé, Ode à la Provence.

Malgré notre évitement du thé, du café ou des digestifs, Emilie a apporté d'astucieux petits fours. Nous avons commencé à réfléchir à un repas plutôt glorieux et avons réglé volontiers notre note.

Gelée de fraises et basilic, chocolat noir et sarriette

Davy Jobard change la carte toutes les cinq semaines. Cela témoigne grandement de sa passion qui l’oblige à explorer les ingrédients les plus frais en saison. Ce qui signifie qu'il conçoit et donne naissance à quelque chose de nouveau et de vibrant presque chaque mois. Il y a des points d’intérêt à chaque contact et virage. Même à table entre bons amis, il vaut la peine de s'arrêter pour reconnaître les efforts et les compétences qui vous ont apporté une telle générosité. Vous vous retrouverez certainement obligé d'ignorer votre compagnie, au moins pour de courtes périodes, pour apprécier la richesse des textures et surtout des saveurs qu'offre Le Nid. Merci du fond du cœur à Davy et Emilie pour avoir créé quelque chose d'aussi spécial.

*Nos sincères commisérations à la France et à ses supporters de football. Alors que nous rentrions chez nous, nous sommes passés devant le Café du Midi et avons regardé le directeur éteindre le grand écran alors que la déception d'une nation s'installait.

Pensons at The Netherwood Estate

Lunch for two

July 14 2022

Here again after our lunch in October 2021. I’ll be brutal. That meal was not up to the standard of this one. Ah, no, don’t misunderstand me. My glowing review of our first meal still stands. It’s just that, taking both subjective and reasonably educated opinions into account, the Pensons team appears to have further considered the boundaries of hospitality and smashed it out of the park where the delivery of great food and service is concerned. Some of you will have already discarded me on the grounds of those mixed cricket and baseball metaphors. Still resolute enough to have my more detailed lowdown? Read on.

I ended my previous review with mention of the bread. Let’s kick off with it this time.

The small, perfectly formed ‘Signature Loaf’ generates two immediate responses beyond simple appreciation of what a truly splendid thing it is. Polite coughing with occasional instances of mild choking is induced by any unwary intake of the toasted flour topping. And those who have failed to protect clothing with suitably placed napkins are left with traces of a fine powder which is easily mistaken for evidence of a recent toilet visit involving hard drugs.
A generous, if reluctant desire to fairly share out the yeast butter should help to focus back on this accomplished and honest offering. It is the first example of a string of menu items which are confidently delivered - all having been refined to a point where improvement is hard to imagine.

The website menus are liable to change according to Chef’s sympathetic reactions to available ingredients but this is the exact lunch menu we were offered on the day. We each chose the same starter, main and dessert.

The wine list is perfectly fine. Its prime attraction is its concise coverage of all major bases needed to complement the food on offer and to broadly satisfy the majority of styles with which guests are familiar. Our Rhone white from Tardieu-Laurent injected a nice addition to our drinking experiences with its show of restrained flavour profiles. The fact that they lingered for so long in the mouth was testament to the winemaker’s care.
Current sommelier, Jade*, has plentiful knowledge to give suggestion and inspiration if you find yourself floundering.
*Yes, Jade - it turns out I am a bit of a silly bugger. My attempt to correct the appelation of your Mabileau wine was based on confused memories of our visit to the vineyard over a decade ago. I was oh-so close but oh-so wrong. My public apologies to you!

Starter

My dining partner has been alongside me for a number of years which approach biblical proportion. Let’s just say well over forty days and forty nights. For positional accuracy, this particular day saw Mrs Cheoff opposite me. Which meant that I had the perfect view of her reaction to our carrot starter. Meg Ryan was faking it at Katz's Delicatessen. My wife managed quietly but insistently to convey a similar message during and after the eating of this ‘spiced carrot’. Quiet and insistent but, in this instance, totally and unmistakably genuine.
A cheeky request for the recipe was met without fuss. I will enjoy interpreting chef’s ideas in my own kitchen but I know that for the real deal of perfect expression a return visit must be arranged.

Main

Our starter gave a nod to Middle Eastern flavours. The fish headed west and beached on the coastline of any southern French port or resort, big or small. We are in the midst of a heatwave as I write this. In the cool of the restaurant the kitchen grabbed hold of the Mediterranean and arranged its iconic flavours in a superb dish. Alchemists in the kitchen brought sunshine to our table with this course.
Fruity, soft, garlicky tomatoes and charred aubergine. Olive oil lightening the hollandaise. Even in the absence of butter this was still a gloriously rich dish. A perfect balance came from acidic tomato juice and peppery but bright watercress.

It seems almost silly to add that the bream was beautifully cooked.

Dessert

Cherries, chocolate custard, almond crumb, cherry sorbet, muscovado tuile and a dusting of sour cherry powder. This had been on the menu for just two days - praise the stars we hadn’t booked earlier!
Black Forest gâteau without the cream and booze? Maybe so. A dessert to provide a fitting conclusion to previous excellence? Definitely so.

Eton Mess - well, half-eaten mess!

We were given a viewing of the compact and attractive suites which are available on site. Well worth considering for the fuller evening menu and an overnight stay. Before leaving we headed for the inspiring kitchen garden which we had stupidly missed the previous October.

And before leaving here, I must repeat our heartfelt thanks to all the teams at Pensons and the whole Netherwood Estate. It was reassuring to see familiar faces and delightful to see how new ones have fitted seamlessly into the mix. You are all helping to create what is a brilliant cut gem of hospitality.

Below is my modified review for Tripadvisor

Le Manoir Aux Quat'Saisons

OUCH!

Monday 12th September 2016 - at home about to set off to Great Milton in Oxfordshire…

“Oh no. No. No. Agh, aaagh… aaaagh… noooOOOooo!”
That’s as near as I can get to the words I heard as my wife slipped and luged down our stairs with coccyx crunching speed.

It wasn’t the greatest way to start a very special celebration.

My lucky screen shot taken just as images changed on the Le Manoir website. Placed here as it captures the over-arching presence of its creator and maître de maison, Raymond Blanc OBE.

I have already described our second visit to Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons in two posts. One on the people and the interaction and one on the menu that evening.

So, two posts about one visit. But that was our second visit. High bloomin’ time I shared details of our first! This will complete a trilogy as I reminisce here about one special element of the celebration of our Ruby Wedding Anniversary.

If you prefer pictures to words - or want to come back to this post armed with visuals - there is a gallery here which covers our 2016 dinner, bed and breakfast - what was then called ‘The Dining Experience’. This visit had been talked about and planned as a way to mark forty years of our fabulously successful marriage (yes, Mrs C is out of earshot!). When my mother offered so generously to fund us the experience became a firm reality.

DETOUR

Before going any further I really should give some reassurance about the plight of dear Mrs Cheoff after that fall. She remained a while at the bottom of our stairs very much shaken and visibly shaking. In better time than might have been expected she was with me in our car heading south, no bones broken but with bruising and a tenderness developing in addition to that which has been between us for over forty years.

Travelling way too far down the M1 after missing the junction for Oxford added another hour to the journey as we approached via Aylesbury from the east. Finally arriving, I ignored the car park sign and drove straight to the front door. I believe excitement had got the better of me.

Chris took us from reception to the Dovecote. He and every other member of the team we met retained their individuality while delivering hospitality with the refined attention to detail which wraps around any stay here.

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A garden walk (the weather was late-summer glorious for this entire visit) to counteract the onset of stiffness around Mrs C’s lower back was followed by a seat on the plumpest of sofas right next to Raymond Blanc’s newly acquired Lalique Le Cockerel. Here we were served tea and a slice of lemon drizzle cake (almost the equal of Mrs C’s!) by Natalie. She lived locally and had applied for only one job. This one. Obviously impressive at interview. It was fitting that Natalie looked after us again at the end of the evening as we relaxed with our coffee and petits fours.

We returned to the Dovecote and explored which taps operated the excellent plumbing. A hot tub was in order for my wife’s back. She would glow for the rest of the night with or without that bath. A glass each from the half bottle of Château de Boursault champagne in our room started this memorable evening

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DINNER

Pre-dinner drinks are remembered for something more than the drinks alone. Mrs Cheoff stayed with champagne and I took a short trip down Memory Lane and asked for a Campari and orange. After our server had brought it and withdrawn I looked at the Campari over ice with its attendant jug of orange juice and murmured very quietly to Mrs C, “Hmmm, that’s interesting.” I remain shocked and deeply impressed at what happened in less than the next twenty seconds. Bar staff approached and asked if I had been expecting soda water rather than juice. Indeed I had been. I am still in awe of the imperceptible signals which communicated my message but I refuse to be alarmed by such attentiveness enough to think that our seating area was bugged or under video surveillance!

On the way from the bar to our table we passed through more rooms of the original manor house. They are charming and beautifully appointed but don’t quite prepare you for the effect on entering L’Orangerie (‘conservatory’ is a perfect example of a word too prosaic to adequately describe this environment). It is a large space with a high roof and could easily echo to the sort of sounds heard in a school dining hall. Instead, by means of careful lighting, spacing and noise insulation each table appears to be in an intimate, dedicated area which cocoons you for the night. This effect might be compromised in daylight but you are still conscious that you are in a special place.

As we were seated I looked across at my wife and we exchanged a silent, mutually smiled acknowledgement that we were adding some more magic to our relationship.

Below is the menu which we started to work through. Even though a Grimsby lass, Mrs C is less adventurous with fish than me and replaced her brill with a beetroot terrine.

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The food was lovely. That is tantamount to damning it with faint praise. Experiences elsewhere lead us to a reasonably informed but still subjective verdict here. The summer vegetable risotto with tomato essence was glorious and I made my own version before the month was out (more of the restaurant offering later). My brill was a beautifully judged dish with the attack of wasabi perfectly subdued by cool cucumber. The apricot dessert was a great final flourish with textures, sweetness and acidity all working together well. Again I drew on Raymond Blanc recipes to produce similar flavours three weeks after our visit.

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Apricot, amaretto, almond and marzipan ice cream, nougatine - adapted from ‘Cassolette d’abricot’ recipes in ‘Kitchen Secrets’ and ‘LE MANOIR AUX QUAT'SAISONS’

Our sommelier’s recommendations were much appreciated. Domaine Valette, Mâcon-Chaintré Vieilles Vignes for the ‘mains’ and you can see his note of the dessert wine on our menu. Donnafugata ‘Ben Ryé’ Passito di Pantelleria was a great suggestion with its dried apricot flavours. Richer and more complex than the Coteaux du Layon which seems to be a regular, but perhaps slightly lazy offering at many restaurants.

Natalie served us coffee and tea in one of the lounges after dinner. Among other petits fours I waxed lyrical about the ‘Mini liquorice Magnum’ which Great British Chefs have as a Gary Jones recipe. If Natalie is still with the team I hope she doesn’t get the sack when I tell you that she arrived with a second tray for us including more ‘Magnums’. Yum!

I’ll reinforce my previously suggested ‘faint praise’; for us the food is truly accomplished but it has less impact than many other kitchens which deliver more challenging ideas and more developed flavours. Executive Chef Gary Jones says:

“I don’t believe our food is overplayed. I believe that it’s natural, it’s respectful and it tastes of what it is - we treat it as simply as we possibly can. And we’re just taking the pure essence of that product and putting it back on the plate”

That is an undeniably honest approach. There are honest approaches to cooking elsewhere but I am pretty sure that Le Manoir offers food which fits the expectations of guests - and that the vast majority of those guests are hugely happy.

There is irresistible refinement at Le Manoir which caresses you whether you are at table, in your accommodation or gently taking in the buildings, gardens, orchard and grounds. Go elsewhere for excitement in other guises. Having said that, we were regularly distracted through our stay by other guests and shared their enjoyment of being so wonderfully well looked after.

BED

Very comfortable. No doves were needed to coo us to sleep.

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and BREAKFAST

The daylit conservatory reminded us of the harsh reality that we would be leaving later that day. We were reasonably unadventurous. The variety and interest of the previous night’s dishes was enough to make breakfast a time for taking in food as fuel with much less of the indulgence enjoyed at dinner.

There is still temptation available for those who have the stomach for it. And, as we would later find out, special requests will be readily accommodated.

THE ORCHARD

After breakfast we took a longer walk through the grounds to the south-east to inspect and wonder a little at a relatively new project between the car park and the A329 road boundary. Planting here was already four years old and a further four since have seen it establish and be the subject of ‘The Lost Orchard’. It is just one example of the passion with which Raymond Blanc pursues the investigation, preservation and cultivation of the best and most suitable ingredients.

The air freshened as we gave up taking in the names of more than a hundred varieties of apples and pears. No real threat of rain - but in any case we had an indoor appointment before we said our goodbyes.

AN UNEXPECTED TOUR

We had settled our account right after breakfast. Reception had picked up on my love of cooking and arranged for a visit to the kitchen. Chris, who had welcomed us the previous afternoon, appeared again and would round off our stay with his attentions. He led us through to the extensive wing of rooms which comprise the kitchen, management offices and the famed kitchen school.

Suppliers including Jody Scheckter’s Laverstoke Park Farm were listed in the office and produce passed through corridors in trays and crates on their way for preparation and mise en place in the kitchen. The gardens here are a constant source of inspiration to chefs but I think you would be lucky if everything on your plate has been grown quite so close by.

We chatted to a relatively new pastry chef and saw the large number of elements being assembled for lunch and dinner services. Chris explained the running of the pass and I simply felt glad that we usually have to manage only another two to four guests at home.

Gary Jones appeared and we were introduced. I think I managed to recognise and acknowledge his influence on this kitchen and his contribution to British cooking in a few words but we certainly were keen to praise the whole team. Mrs C confirmed that her risotto had been the star of her dining experience. “It was so good I would have liked a repeat for my breakfast!” she added. Gary identified the very chef who had cooked it the previous evening so that personal thanks could be delivered. “And next time please speak up sooner - he would have gladly brought some to your table this morning,” said Gary, confirming the willingness and ability to indulge which underpins your stay.

We emerged into sunlight flooding the main entrance courtyard. Instead of a whirlwind tour we had been treated to a relaxed but informative look at many aspects of the way excellence is laid before guests. With the help of many other team members Chris had given us a very professional and hugely enjoyable insight into the delivery of star-studded fine dining and hospitality. We were quite shocked that this additional ‘quick’ treat had lasted almost an hour.

MEMORIES

Our visit had given us so much which impressed immediately but almost certainly too much luxury and richness to take in straight away. We will always be grateful to everyone who created memories which we still talk about. At a special time for us it was great to be looked after by special people.

We stayed in the area and enjoyed the accommodation of others. On another garden table that afternoon we tasted one more reminder of the last thirty-six hours - the mini cherry Bakewell cakes hidden in our farewell bag by Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons.

Delicious.

It had all been delicious.

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FOOTNOTE

Below is a screenshot of the survey we were asked to complete after our stay.

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It has taken four years for me to publicly voice these thoughts about our stay. We expressed thanks to individuals and groups of staff face to face before we left but have not added to reviews on any other platform. Both Mrs Cheoff and I baulked at assessing that final trio of feelings on the survey. Le Manoir remains a wonderful place which will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for some and a regular haunt for others. Ours still stands as the former - the ‘Evening with Prue Leith’ was too different an occasion to truly count.

A reluctance to be made to feel important, pampered or sophisticated says more about Mrs C and me than anything else. The fact we share that reluctance is one more facet of a marriage which still has more agreement than divergence.

We also both agree that we wouldn’t have missed our experience at le Manoir for the world.

THANK YOUS

Thank you to Raymond Blanc for his vision. Thank you to the changing team who will give you the same experience should you visit.

And thank you, Mum, for a gift which I suspect gave almost as much pleasure to you as it did to us.

'OUT of my TREE' Midsummer House by Daniel Clifford

In August 2017 Daniel Clifford began to get a little excited on social media, sharing news that a book was in preparation marking twenty years of his restaurant, Midsummer House. And social media got a little excited too. My interest was piqued.

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The idiotic excuse that I most definitely do not need another cookbook stalled things for a few months after publication but it appeared on my wishlist and one of our junior ‘Cheoffs’ - the younger son (Sous Cheoff?) if you must know - sent me a birthday gift of ‘OUT of my TREE’.

My review follows but let’s throw in a spoiler straight away. This will not be loaned out in the foreseeable future… get your own lovely copy!

Mine is not the slip-cased, four-times-the-price limited edition. It doesn’t want to be. I shouldn’t like to be distracted by considerations of keeping it pristine. There is too much here which demands to be propped up in the kitchen and cooked from. Which leads to the one unfathomable serious flaw with this production. And that flaw lies in the physical production of the book. If this were a dish from Midsummer House it would never be allowed out of the kitchen. The care and finish is minimal. Head and tail bands and ribbon markers are absent. The book boards have the barest of thickness and strength. As far as a book in the hand goes, this is the most frustratingly disappointing volume which I’ve handled for many years. Maybe the flaw is fathomable after reading this from the website of the publisher, Meze:

There is no mention of bookbinding anywhere else on the site. I assume that element is discussed with clients on each project. Such a shame. I’m struggling to understand why Daniel Clifford would compromise his work in this respect. Let’s move on to much more positive stuff.

If you have come for the food you will be richly rewarded. Research and reminiscing leads Daniel Clifford to a nostalgic trawl through dishes which have disappeared or been reinvented over time at Midsummer House. Some were remembered with such affection that they have found their way back on to the menu at the restaurant. This has resulted in a very generous doubling of the originally proposed recipes to a finally published one hundred and forty.

Those recipes, presented as far as possible in chronological order, range from a very accessible one for egg sandwiches by Chef’s mum to more intricate efforts by Chef’s mum’s son. These involve techniques I am prepared to struggle with but which might be abandoned if they require a centrifuge or a pacojet. The food is gloriously presented through the patient, painstaking photography of Tim Green. The recipes and the short stories about their development make a strong claim as the star attraction of this volume.

But this is much more than a cookbook. Although it does not contain everything. As Sat Bains explains in his foreword (there are several forewords by much-respected, big-hitting members of the culinary and hospitality world), something is missing… namely ‘bullshit’. I would have expected that. My understanding of Daniel Clifford has come mainly from his appearances on Great British Menu over the last decade. He is both a winner and a ‘Veteran’ judge. In the latter guise his reaction to one competitor instigated Twitter fury. But I remember silently shouting at the screen seconds before Chef Paul Askew was pulled up short for over-enthusiastic garnishing… and thus being in total agreement with Daniel’s timely interruption. And previously his response to a teacher who exercised creative writing skills to describe her meal at his restaurant also received much coverage. The rebuttal of his customer’s letter of complaint was a lot more polite than the aforementioned Sat Bains’ occasional vitriol on ShitAdvisor. Especially considering that a Cambridge newspaper had undermined one of their community’s prize assets. I fall in with Chef’s refusal to accept such bullshit.

For me, though, there most definitely is one more large pile of doodah in the book - and I don’t mean the pant-cacking moment on page 36. This is not just an homage to Midsummer House. Chef takes us into the verbally and physically violent kitchens of his formative years and admits that his own early management skills rested on being trained by ‘animals’. I know from personal experience that Michelin star food can be produced in kitchens which offer a constantly positive and nurturing environment. This is still a harsh, unremitting profession but I am convinced that the additional prospect of being bullied is one element which has strongly impacted the recruitment of a new generation. The crassness of abuse needs to be seriously addressed… maybe we can begin to eliminate it.

Providing food in one of the UK’s top ten restaurants (have a debate on that later!) has to rely on teamwork but, in the process of becoming a culinary star, Chef Clifford concedes and regrets that he has made bad mistakes in his treatment of other human beings. The arrival of chef Mark Abbott confirmed a sea change. It revealed how much Daniel Clifford had developed as a person. The realisation and acceptance that Mark’s unassuming exterior is no barrier to being a powerhouse of cooking skill, creativity and work ethic has meant that Daniel can adjust to a new era in which he trusts someone else to match and sustain his exacting standards. Which also means that he might step back, and exhale with a big burst of pride at what he has achieved, not just in a wonderful career, but as a human being. ‘OUT of my TREE’ strongly suggests that he has now grown up more than enough to do just that.

Even if he has taken any sort of a step back, Midsummer House will always belong to Daniel Clifford. Even allowing for the help of so many others over the years it remains his creation. I am very grateful to him for producing such a fitting, thoughtful and rich book to share that creation with us.

EDIT: The book has been shortlisted in the Gourmand International Food Awards 2019 in the category of ‘Best Book of the Year in all categories’ The plaudits keep coming!

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It might be worth adding that we have not yet eaten at Midsummer House. You’ll gather that we will be correcting that mistake soon.

Right. Page 208 is open and I’m looking at the ‘Pear, Fennel and Black Olive’ dessert. And trying to work out ways to achieve it as far as possible without buying more kitchen equipment. You may leave me in peace now… I’m going to be busy.

Pear and vanilla jelly

A lovely recipe here which I added to my 'armoury' just recently. Everything came together at the right time. A jar of home-made 'Poire William' was well matured and ready for use and was substituted for the Xanté pear liqueur. I had steeped my pear in vodka which perhaps gave a lighter, 'cleaner' taste... but I intend using brandy or eau de vie next time to ring the changes. My jellies were darker in colour than the Great British Chefs' photograph (above) but still clear enough to reveal that scattering of vanilla seeds through the mix. I'm almost not bothered to investigate the science behind the difference, given the great results I achieved.

EDIT… (See ‘Comments’ below)
The temperature stated in the online recipe is obviously wrong! I only took the mix to 108°C. Quite enough to set.
I’ve contacted GBChefs so their correction might appear soon.
In the meantime, please follow my advice and avoid burnt bottoms!

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Nicely set... ready for sugar coating

The recipe is from Michael Wignall who has just announced that he and his wife, Johanna, are to take over the 'Angel at Hetton'. Not too far north of the Humber for a visit from us when they are up and running!

Anyway, find the recipe here. I used 7 grams of cream of tartar and an 8 gram sachet of Silver Spoon pectin powder. Getting the right set makes all the difference. Once again, having a probe thermometer gave me the control and confidence to achieve near perfect results. In the same cooking session I made another batch of the 'Snickers' truffles which are to die for. They also rely on careful temperature management and also came up to standard!

No citric acid powder needed here for the sugar coating. Let the pear and liqueur work together without cutting back on the fruity sweetness.

A Wignall winner!

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The new recipe took centre stage in my petits fours offering a few nights later

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Cook's pair (pear?) of cheeky 'leftover' treats with this afternoon's espresso

Tossers Everywhere

Jay Rayner always seems good value for money to me. Not that I’ve ever parted with cash to see him or listen to him. Doing either or both of those is still a perfect possibility as I am often tempted by his tours of the ‘Ten (food) Commandments’, 'Dining Hell' and his concerts with the Jay Rayner Quartet.

Lots of other opportunities to enjoy his critiques and food journalism, of course, with radio, TV and newspapers providing regular relatively free access.

I never tire of his flagrant self-promotion on Twitter but I do rather prefer his occasional barbed posts revealing a grumble and a gripe which usually merits a follow-up. Here is the latest Rayner Rant to catch my eye.

Not too much response came on that one. A nipple-twister was mentioned and, naturally, someone wanted them to be outed. No-one gainsaid the Burton-Race condemnation. I decided to delve a little. Some would find strong elements of ‘tosser’ in a chap who has given up on two marriages and goodness knows how many children. But I’m sure Jay Rayner bases his censure on more than criticism of an individual’s private life and opinions.* “There but for the grace of any god who doesn’t exist...” as Mr Rayner and I would say. And since we agree on that one, I obviously had to discover a different angle.
* Well, maybe not

A visit to the Burton-Race restaurant website disappointingly gave me immediate results.

“This is a restaurant where you can enjoy Michelin-starred cuisine at the highest standard while feeling completely at ease.”

Now I am as guilty of exaggeration as the next sixty-six year-old adonis who hasn’t yet traded in his stud card for a free travel pass. But the choice of words which greeted the casual enquirer after Torquay tucker didn’t so much stretch a point as lay out a lie and say, “Go on, challenge that if you dare.”

I dared to challenge…. and found so little resistance that all was resolved and returned to a semblance of honesty within twenty-four hours.

A shot across the bow

The dull thud of clarification

Before and After

In those twenty-four hours the restaurant gave up at least one Michelin star which it had never been awarded. Misrepresentation could have come from an over-zealous employee but I know that a talented chef wouldn’t dream of being so out of control of his business. Therefore, I conclude that John Burton-Race merits the tosser tag. He shall retain it until such reasonable time has elapsed in which he shows signs of continuing to do much better.

Since my intervention the website has had a bit of further review and the content is, apart from a few grammatical errors, in much better shape. No suggestion that Chef Burton-Race is necessarily cooking for you – but I’m sure he has had input which will add interest to your dining… tinged as it will be by elements of tosser.

‘Tossers Everywhere’ demands more than one tosser. I’ll do my best to reveal some others. This will continue to focus on restaurants and chefs. So I feel compelled to add at this point that I spend a huge amount of time verbally defending the wonderful, harsh, often dangerously teetering hospitality industry and I continue to willingly pay out around 20% in gratuities to the vast majority of establishments who prove so often to be utterly magnificent.

The tossers I identify next are intimately connected to that magnificent world. Like me, they visit it as paying customers. Specifically, in my region, they pay to eat at ‘Winteringham Fields’. And a lot of those are honorary tossers since they insist on believing that they are dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant. I must point out that the restaurant does nothing to overtly encourage them in that respect. The area has no Michelin stars. Even a Bib Gourmand escapes ‘The Fields’. Colin McGurran’s team certainly get their knife and fork icons highlighted in red. This means that they are good enough to be under consideration for an upgrade. Which is why I am disappointed by the regular reports from so many whose understanding is that they have paid for and enjoyed Michelin-starred cuisine at the Winteringham venue. Two Michelin stars disappeared along with Swiss chef, Germain Schwab, fifteen years ago. Ignorance is bliss, I guess. And since I’ve never personally corrected anyone I am guilty of helping to perpetuate that ignorance... maybe with misplaced kindness. I know that staff there at present have the capacity for stuffiness which extends to rude disdain for diners. The restaurant featured on a Gordon Ramsay TV venture some years ago and he was quick to identify the fact that customers were oppressed by over-zealous and fawning servers. Subsequent snippets of Chef McGurran on GBM only suggest that he leads by example. I’m not encouraged to conduct a costly test of my strong suspicion that tossers abound in the kitchen and around the tables in the Scunthorpe countryside.

Having mentioned the Ramsay name I might as well confirm that he hovers over all in my pantheon of culinary tossers. His “Idiot Sandwich” may be a spoof video made in support of charity but it reflects far too closely the way in which he chooses to present himself. It is such a vile image that I allow it to take precedence over any of his stunning accomplishments in cooking. I made a pineapple dessert from his sumptuous ‘*** CHEF’ volume ten years ago. I’ve never felt seriously inclined to reference the book since.

Allow me to introduce the tosser who came to my mind as soon as Mr Rayner got this whole party started. All the way back to late 2013. Lurpak UK’s Facebook page had attracted my attention and I was getting notifications of new posts. I don’t remember exactly what prompted me to try out the ‘Search Google for Image’ facility but it opened up a can of worms… a can of tossers, I suppose. After emailing about thirty mainly North American food bloggers I received confirmation from just about all of them that their photographic work had been appropriated and used without permission by the Lurpak page. It was pretty much open season as far as they were concerned. Even Jamie Oliver’s food stylist and photographer was not spared.

Emails from Lurpak explaining their behaviour as an “oversight” were pretty much laughable. Is it an oversight to deliberately crop out the watermark of someone’s work? Amber Parkin assured me that “… we will endeavour to be more discerning in our image choices and review our sign off process.”

I found out that this cavalier (that’s another word for acting like a tosser) behaviour was overseen by ‘Outside Line’, a digital agency which had already been acquired by Saatchi and Saatchi but was still run by co-founder Ant Cauchi. Incidentally, I was pretty disgusted to discover that they also handled Andy Murray’s digital marketing at the time.

Eventually I was contacted from the very top of the tosser totem pole… by Mr Ant Cauchi himself. His offer of a face to face meeting at which he wanted to explain “… how we work with partners and media owners.” was dripping with enough slime for me to discard it immediately. A simple admission that he promoted an environment where people are encouraged to steal intellectual property was obviously beyond him.

By early 2014 the Lurpak site was unrecognisable. A wholesale review of practice had transformed their Facebook posts. The page was awash with credited photos and recipes with links to many of those aforementioned food blog sites.

By the middle of that year it appeared that the positive changes might be sustained when Holler won the digital business account. “The incumbent was the Saatchi & Saatchi agency Outside Line, which did not repitch.”

I am happy to think that I might have prodded a company into moral and ethical behaviour which had been seriously lacking under Mr Cauchi’s watch.

Let’s lighten up and move from total tosser to transient tosspot, shall we.

A couple of weeks ago self-confessed pastry deviant, Calum Franklin, was alerted to the very strange apparition of his work on Jason Atherton’s Twitter and Instagram feeds. An odd orangey filter was no barrier to many recognising the achingly careful skills on display in a Holborn Dining Room product. The hashtag #analpastry, although off-putting, does seem appropriate.

Someone always seems to record things for posterity. The offending twit (tweet) captured.

The Twitter alarm bells were heard at The Social Company and all was soon smoothed over. 

Jason Atherton. Embarrassed, contrite, apologetic... hopefully not too apopleptic.

I don't think anyone lost their job over this one but I don't think it's likely to happen again soon.

Right, I'll be busy for the next couple of days. I need to trawl through the posts I've published here over the last three and a half years to check for squeaky-clean attributions, provenances and permissions given... tossers everywhere, you know.

Gravetye Manor - A Day In The Kitchen

I have already enjoyed the experience of eating at Gravetye Manor as a paying customer. More recently I was able to spend time in the kitchen alongside the team who prepare food to the consistently high standard which earns a star. The Michelin Guide awards a further star for a restaurant worth a detour. Since I took a five hundred mile round trip each time to eat and to 'work' there, Gravetye already has a two star rating from me!

You now have the daunting task of staying with me and reading my account here. I have dealt with events as best as I could. Advance apologies for inaccuracies, including names of the people I met and their proper job titles. My organisation and attention to detail does not match theirs.

The day arrived. Chef George Blogg had written, “How does 9am sound?… We work until about 10.30pm.” The coward in me had thought, “I can always make my excuses and slope off after morning coffee if I can’t hack it.”

By half past ten (a.m!) my calf muscles were in persistent ache mode and my right hip was reminding me that it is not in the best of order… and I was fully and irrevocably decided that I would ignore those and any other negative signals and enjoy one of the best days of my life outside those with my family and close friends.

I have split up my text rather arbitrarily with the stages of a restaurant visit. Not ideal but at least it will give you a chance to draw breath, even stop for a while, and decide, like me, if you have the resolve to carry on!

APÉRITIF

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My visit came on the 31st which meant that elements of the new, monthly-changing menu were being prepared while well-practised courses went out for the last time. Not strictly true... there is a little sensible seasonal repetition and sometimes a dish is just too good to be discontinued. But it did make for a delightful confusion as far as I was concerned as I witnessed a wealth of ideas being brought to life before me.

For the early part of the day commis pastry chef Henry made me warmly welcome and we discussed sour dough starters, flour suppliers and parental wisdom on what to avoid discussing with a prospective partner on a first date. It’s not all about food, you know! Doughs were at various stages of preparation and I eventually tried to shape breakfast rolls. Two at a time. My right hand occasionally succeeded but the left is in detention after completely refusing to co-operate. I filled conical brioche bun tins with slightly more sticky success. I brushed rose petals from Tom Coward’s garden with egg white and sprinkled them with rose sugar to be dried for eventual adornment of afternoon teas. That sugar is powerful stuff. Opening the container releases a pungency sweeter and more heady than a score of English country gardens.

Amuse-bouche: Mistaken Identity
A recurring theme when introduced to a new member of the brigade was being asked where I had worked previously and how long I was now contracted to be at Gravetye.
A few years back, Mrs. Cheoff gifted me a chef’s jacket and checkered apron. At home I usually don them just before friends arrive for a meal and greet them with something like, “We’re very busy… have you booked?” I changed into this for the day at Gravetye and I guess they gave me false credentials. It’s always lovely to have an ego boost but I did correct each misguided individual immediately. I reckon I gave them enough subsequent evidence to confirm that I was just a keen but casual visitor.

Chef appeared in our section just before ten. There was no quick, polite introduction followed by George Blogg's disappearance to do ‘more important things’. Instead, he began to include me in a conversation which flowed through the day. I had brought notes with prompts for questions to ask but these were deliberately discarded as I realised how much was going on around to feed my curiosity. Chef by no means devoted all his time to me but I felt that he would always be available with much more attention than I had expected. And, of course, the whole brigade are given that same attention. Through great time management Chef is constantly questioning and responding to those around him so that they are fully occupied in sustaining a standard and pushing it to further heights. 

I was kept busy while lunch service started by collecting and mixing ingredients for an 'Olive Oil & Pistachio Cake', also intended for afternoon teas. Henry needed his book of notes and recipes to work with elsewhere so he quickly transcribed the ingredients for me.

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It was a rather emotional choice of recipe. A recipe that is not really so unusual or too difficult to make. But it appears in 'essence', the first cookbook by David Everitt-Matthias. And George Blogg spent formative time with David at 'Le Champignon Sauvage'. And I first knew of George through reading David's work. Thoughts of the love and respect which I have for those two joined the mix as the kitchen whisk and paddle turned. Yup... emotional.

Amuse-bouche: Better Late Than Never
On my way to return the box of pistachio paste I realised that I’d forgotten exactly where the dry store was. Along the corridor came Head Sommelier, Alexis Jamin, and I asked him for help. After he had pointed me in the right direction, I took the opportunity to thank him personally for his recommendations when we dined in March 2017. He had only just arrived at Gravetye then. I do trust he is becoming a permanent fixture… he is yet another reliable member of the team.

STARTER

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Before going further I might as well confirm that the ‘C’ word was freely used through the day. This is more than understandable... it is easily justified. ‘Chef’ is regularly consulted as the driving force here and criticisms, corrections and confirmations are regularly sought from him in the pursuit of excellence. As for any other professional kitchen stereotypes of rich but foul language and threatening behaviour... forget them. You might hear an occasional self-addressed curse from the perpetrator of individual mistakes but the inescapable feeling here is that everyone is treated as an integral part of a thrust towards developing something special in a quiet and determined way. In 2016 viewers of 'MasterChef: The Professionals' were impressed by the care and empathy which George showed in mentoring competitors. It was no put-up job for the cameras. I witnessed it through the entire day I was there. Bookings are still made on the back of that TV coverage. Can such an attitude promote clarity, honesty and excellence which is ultimately translated onto each plate in the Gravetye dining room? I strongly suggest that it can and does.

I spent just enough minutes in the kitchen at lunch service to be offered a trimming from some quail and a spoonful of lightly spiced quinoa. I was to be given what amounted to a feast later. An extended review about the depth of flavours in those two midday mouthfuls could easily follow. Don't panic... I've decided to let you off and bludgeon you with the rest of the days events instead.

After lunch service there was talk of foraging for acorns and I had thought that a company of us would set out. In the end Chef, having received requests for pickings of cavolo nero and sorrel, motioned to just me and we were off to the garden. So I was treated to a priceless one-to-one chat with a great member of the culinary profession. 

George looked fondly at the screen of Jerusalem artichokes which had started to produce early this particular season. Tom Coward and his team ensure that there is constant inspiration growing a few yards from the kitchen. Other restaurant gardens appear wonderful but many can't truly support the quality asked for by their chefs. Gravetye's certainly does. We talked about the importance of the garden and the careful sourcing of suppliers of equal quality who are referenced in the restaurant menu.

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We distracted ourselves with talk of celebrity chefs and by sampling slices of apple from espalier growth. George immediately mused on a dish in which the particular variety of apple might shine. With a sweep of his hand he encompassed the whole garden and smiled at his great fortune that its bounty is on his doorstep. 
He glossed quickly over characters who maintain a high profile in the media. No resentment or disdain there... but I think that the notion of celebrity is regarded as an unwanted distraction from his kitchen and his restaurant diners.
I was pretty sure that Phil Howard's name would come up and when it did George spoke of him with great affection. At the Square and at Le Champignon Sauvage, George was not only influenced by refined cooking skills and inquisitive approaches, he was in the company of two more very intelligent people. George worked in kitchens from age fifteen but graduated in Geology before letting his true passion take over. Chefs communicate in immediate and important ways through their understanding and mastery of flavour. But something special happens in kitchens such as Gravetye's. I believe that great chefs like George and his prime mentors bring their gifted abilities to the plate alongside a deep intelligence. This can push their food to extremes of complexity. Then comes the art of drawing back, at least some of the time, so that as many people as possible can enjoy their creation. If a particular dish stops you in your tracks and forces you to eat more thoughtfully I would suggest that the chef is actually asking for a fuller understanding of that dish.
I am all for a punch in the solar plexus from the swelling emotion of a symphony’s final movement but I still want to know more about what inspired that emotion in a composer and how it found expression. A good restaurant meal gives that same visceral impact but on this day I was on the other side of things and soaking up so much more about creative drive and its potential from Chef and his brigade. It was a glorious treat.

Erk. Got a bit highfalutin there. Sorry.

Amuse-bouche: The Night Porter – Part One
After my garden walk with Chef I made a cup of tea in the rest room and met Javier. He is the hotel night porter. He is also a wonderfully intelligent and thoughtful human being. We chatted about his native Spain, his love of architecture and of physical geography. Javier delights in the quiet beauty of the Sussex countryside which surrounds Gravetye. Back to architecture, and I discovered that both his faith and his secular interests have seen him visit many English cathedrals. He was almost jealous that I live so close to the winner of #cathedralworldcup, which is one he’s missed so far. It was a privilege to talk briefly but with such meaningful depth to Javier. I hope he will manage that trip to Lincoln one day.

Everyone is offered a late afternoon meal before dinner service starts and I enjoyed a chicken and mushroom pie. Needless to say, it was perfectly seasoned. 

MAIN

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Amuse-bouche: J Chokes
Shortly before dinner service, Sous Josh asked me to prep some Jerusalem Artichokes. Below is the result of my efforts. And that blue band around my finger in the header picture for this post is covering the result of a snick when all but four of the little devils were peeled.
#BadgeOfHonour

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I had watched Josh form mini quenelles of beef tartare earlier in the day. Prepped for canapés, they were now needed as diners had begun to order pre-dinner drinks. Josh showed me how to control a squeezy bottle to deliver a small, neat dob of horseradish mayonnaise and then finish with garden garnish. Crisp blades of dehydrated cavolo nero, liberally seasoned with vinegar salt were going out as well. A sort of pearl barley mini 'arancini' completed the trio on offer. These were brought over as needed by Collins after warming. And then Josh dropped the mini bombshell on me that I would be calling "Service" on the canapés. It was a lovely gesture which rested on us both knowing that I had immediate support at hand. But I managed to get through with a few words of encouragement and minimal physical intervention. It was assembly of prepared elements but I still felt the weight of responsibility. I plated the last table of six as three pairs and had to change them in a hurry to two triplets. My chance to experience just a hint of the pressures of the professional kitchen but all went out with approval... phew!

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'Mis en place' for dinner service with stoves opposite for heating and saucing

The complexity of food on offer for dinner meant that I was happy to stand back and watch as the brigade delivered. I did ask questions and made mental notes which would inform my cooking at home. Some of those questions were answered with offerings from the night's menu items.

Amuse-bouche: Consistency
Chloé was at her stove cooking every piece of Halibut, Southdown Lamb, Pine Smoked Fallow Venison (oof, the aroma - wow, the texture and flavour!), Wood Pigeon and Norfolk Quail for this service. Faggots, meat bonbons and confit legs were all sent to the pass along with them. In the entire evening Chef questioned one pigeon breast as a little 'under'... and then relented and admitted that it would be perfect after resting. As the evening progressed I tasted trimmed pieces from all of the meats before plating. Chloé's efforts get first prize from me - but she is just one of a team of gold medallists.

Chef had obviously decided that I needed extra sustenance and called on Collins to prepare one of the evening's starters for me. See it below before I poured in the vegetable dashi. 

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Cured Hampshire Chalk Stream Trout - red beetroot tartare, trout roe, tagetes and a garden vegetable dashi

Collins is from Andorra, speaks French, Spanish and English and had only worked in the kitchen for one month. I popped in a touch of foreign language skills practice with him and Chloé. My verdict on the trout was "Un véritable triomphe!" I think Collins already knew.
Chef explained why he had chosen the particular fish. Its habitat is the secret to its fresh, clean taste with none of the 'muddiness' of other catches. A stunning dish. Delicate but insistent flavours for the most part... but then that hit of tagetes reminds you how one small element can elevate an already exalted dish.

Amuse-bouche: The KP
I’d seen Iñaki at his sinks behind the pastry section earlier in the day and exchanged a few words in English... Basque is beyond me! As the cooking of the dinner service progressed I noticed that the 'batterie de cuisine' of used pots, pans and tools was disappearing and magically returning in a pristine state, ready for further use. I don’t claim to comprehend the full mysteries of a kitchen porter’s training but I do now have a theory that they undergo Ninja training which allows them to ghost in and out of kitchens. Iñaki delivers stealth and infiltration at black belt level... everyone benefits and no-one gets harmed!

DESSERT

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Starters and mains were all out by now and cleaning down had started but the pastry section were still at work ensuring a memorable end to each diner's night. Henry prepared a fresh mix for raspberry crumble soufflés while Head Pastry Chef Ashley produced the final flourish for his last table... and the smaller tasting menu version for me! 

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Coriander and Coconut Parfait - bergamot sorbet, coconut macaroon and coriander cress

No rum... but still a heady cocktail of tropical seduction. The chiller drawer at his station ensured perfect texture for sorbets and ice creams but their consistent delivery in perfectly formed rochers was down to Ashley. His calm and control had been matched throughout the evening by every person working in the kitchen. There was complexity but a total attention to detail dismissed all trace of confusion. 

Amuse-bouche: The Night Porter – Part Two
The rest room has a wall on which are posted photos of the ‘Gravetye Family’. I was taking snaps of these for reference when Javier pointed to the top of the pyramid. There was Andrew Thomason, Managing Director. I can’t report Javier’s exact words but they were close enough to these… “That man is a truly wonderful person. He cares about each and every one of us. He will always stop to talk and this place could never be what it is without him.” To have someone from the base of the pyramid extol the virtues of one at its apex does rather shatter the idea that the pyramid exists in any important hierarchical sense. At any rate, Javier made it perfectly clear that the Gravetye family does exist and that he feels very much a part of it.

For one day I became an honorary member of the family. One final confirmation came as I walked through the stillroom towards Chef's office. Zoltan, also on his way home, said his farewell to me as if we had worked side by side for years. 
I had arrived, excitedly, with hopes of understanding more about what I might achieve at home with some input from professionals. I certainly took away inspiration and guidance in that respect but a much more valuable aspect of my day was what the whole team joined to give... the knowledge that a group of people can work without conflict to achieve excellence.  
I went into George's office and tried to thank him for all that I had been given. There was not enough time and there never seem to be the exact right words on such an occasion. I had prepared my own gifts and eventually sent a more considered response in writing.

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Chef then did one of those things which, on reflection, is perfect. He sent me on my way with a loaf of sourdough from the morning bake.  All the stunning effort and culinary achievement which I had witnessed will stay with me for an age. But I will always remember leaving with what everyone is given by the Gravetye kitchen... a simple, honest offering of love through food.

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For a few more pictures of my day, follow this link to a new gallery.

COFFEE AND PETIT FOURS

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Two days after my visit George Blogg proudly posed in the same place as I had taken one of my pictures. The Michelin Guide's plaque displaying star status for 2018 had just arrived.

TAXI!

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Things are now changing dramatically at Gravetye which closed on the 2nd of January at the start of a truly exciting project. The restaurant is to be transformed by breaking down barriers between it and the wonderful garden. The website now has a tantalising countdown until Gravetye reopens on the 7th of May. 
You can still explore hotel and restaurant bookings and the closure has thrown up lovely opportunities to enjoy courses at nearby Kingscote Vineyard. Garden and flower workshops are there but you will understand that the most attractive to me are those with Chef George Blogg! 
Whatever you decide upon, Gravetye will continue to give rich satisfaction.