As you can imagine, to then be disappointed is doubly depressing.

Having viewed the menu online I had already got the impression that this was a very ‘meat’ friendly restaurant, lots of sausages, steaks, pies and so on.  It happened that that evening I really fancied fish, so I was relieved to see that the specials board had just what I was looking for – grilled sea bass, with wok fried noodles and vegetables in a soy and ginger sauce.  Yum.  Something delicately flavoured and oriental sounded just the thing.

Now far be it from me to tell a chef how to do his job, and those two large pieces of fish were, to be fair, quite juicy.  But I’d be very surprised if they were grilled.  There was a decidedly pan-fried look and taste about them – far too golden and crispy to be grilled.  I’m happy to be corrected but all I’m saying is if my grill did that to my fish…

And the noodles and veg….I was looking forward to a light, delicately tangy accompaniment.  What I actually got was noodles that were so oily they left a film on my lips, and just not enough veg.  It was tasty, but greasy.  And strangely none of the flavours had reached the fish, which I always think is a shame.  For nearly £17 it just wasn’t good enough.

Sadly neither of my companions were bowled over by their dishes either, one of (slightly pink looking) sausage and mash, and the other of salmon which again was underwhelming.

The situation was rescued slightly with the pudding – my blueberry, lemon and almond cake was warm and comforting but most of the lemon flavour seemed to be in the three little drops of lemon curd on the plate, each artistically mounted with a blueberry, rather than in the sponge.

All in all, I expected more, and was disappointed.  My meals out are more of a treat now than ever, and whether it’s fair or not, I want to be impressed every time.  And this time, I just wasn’t.

Today we visited some friends in Leeds, and went to their kids’ primary school summer fair.  During which we stumbled across what may have been the nicest ice cream I’ve had so far this summer.

A company called Indie Ices had a little pitch at which they were selling special World Cup flavoured kulfis, ice creams and sorbets.  They’ve created new flavours for some of the countries playing.  (Although not all countries – when asked what flavours they’d created for today’s match contestants South Korea and Ghana, they admitted to leaving these off the list.  Not sure what flavours you’d do for them though!).

Aside from the obvious Cookies & Cream for the USA, and Chocolate Kulfi for Switzerland, there were other more intriguing creations. These included Wine Sorbet (Chile, I think), Fig & Date Kulfi (can’t remember the country) and Irish Cream Kulfi (for France, according to their blog “to rectify the injustice FIFA did not correct” – good lads!).

I picked one of the two England flavours on offer – Rose & Berry Kulfi.  I believe my first words on tasting were “Wow” followed by “That’s incredible” – or words to that effect mumbled through mouthfuls of creamy loveliness.  The ingredients were milk, double cream, sugar (diet followers can stop reading now), fresh whole raspberries and redcurrants, and rose water.  Every mouthful had a delicate, slightly sweet hint of rose petals, and every now and then a sharp hit from the berries.  Absolutely spot on.

It’s a good job they were only selling small tubs.  I could have eaten so much more.  Indie Ices – come over to Manchester, please!

Today I visited with a different NCT pal, on a day I don’t usually go.  Filled with excitement at the thought of a new ‘cake of the day’ I was disappointed to discover it was carrot cake.  Disappointed because every single other time I’ve tried this offer, it’s always carrot cake.  Whatever day it is.  Don’t get me wrong.  I like carrot cake. This is a particularly nice carrot cake.  But doesn’t ‘cake of the day’ imply that each day there’s a different cake?  It’s a sad state of affairs when one is disappointed by cake.  And trust me, in mummy world, it’s the little things like this that can make or break your day.

In order to celebrate not only the fact we are still functioning as human beings (just), but also our second wedding anniversary (yikes!  how did that come round?), H and I left gastrobaby in the capable hands of his mother, whilst we ventured out to – gasp – a restaurant – gasp again – together!!

Having dismissed the opportunity to try out Damson in Heaton Moor, our soon-to-be-new-stomping-ground, because its veggie options were hugely uninspired, we went for the left-field option of trying That Cafe in Levenshulme as its sample menu online looked much more interesting.  I ate here many, many, many years ago and was impressed at the time.  My reasoning is that if a restaurant is still going tens of years later, it must be doing something right.

We were slightly perturbed by the lack of customers when we arrived, with the restaurant never filling more than three tables.  However we discovered the following night (first Wednesday of the month) was their Jazz night, so we suspect that that week, most customers waited for Wednesday. It’s a cosy venue, with a couple of enormous (we’re talking floor to ceiling) decorative mirrors, simple wooden tables and chairs, a couple of squishy chairs by the bar where you study the menu, and a bit of William Morris-type wallpaper.  Homely.  In fact I remember thinking years ago that it was like dining in someone’s front room.  It is in fact located in two terraced houses knocked through to make one building.

Displayed on the bar were jars of home made preserves. It turns out the owners of the restaurant also own a small holding so you certainly know where you meal has come from.  And the quality of the food showed.  Of the three courses we each ordered, there wasn’t a scrap left of any of them.  Literally.

H’s starter was a ‘Glamorgan sausage’ – a big fat roll of potato, leek and cheese, rolled in oats and almonds served with a drizzle of balsamic dressing.  Very tasty.  My starter of warm smoked duck salad with orange segments, roast fennel, green leaves and redcurrent sauce, was absolutely beautiful.  Smoky without being salty, meaty without being fatty.  Lovely.

For mains H had a concoction of shitake and oyster mushrooms on a bed of puy lentils,baked artichoke and cooked spinach. (See, it doesn’t take much to venture away from the standard goat’s cheese tart and mushroom risotto! )  The mushrooms were meaty, juicy and flavoursome, but the lentils could have contributed more.  My main of lemon sole (replacing the advertised halibut) with Morecombe Bay potted shrimps in a creamy sauce with a potato rosti was very satisfying.  It wasn’t packed with flavour as such, it was more about the creaminess of the sauce against the saltiness of the shrimps and the mildness of the fish.  Delicious.  These dishes came with cooked vegetables – a bowl of carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, potatoes and cabbage.  Thankfully not drowning in a presumptuous blob of butter as is often the case.

We rounded off with two hot puddings with home made vanilla ice cream (although I’m not convinced of its home-madeness) – H went for chocolate brownie and I went for apple bread and butter pudding.  Again, both tasted wonderful, although the texture of the bread and butter pudding was a bit soggy/wobbly, as if it had been heated in the microwave.  But for the taste of it, I’ll forgive them.

With two glasses of wine, one G&T and peppermint teas (which came with little squares of shortbread and truffle/chocolate) and including a tip, the bill was around £70.  Although the quality of the food certainly merited it, as each course was devoured with relish, we felt that the venue didn’t quite.  During the day, it’s a cafe, and it doesn’t look like anything changes to the ‘look and feel’ of the place when it comes to the evening service.  So the prices didn’t sit right with the surroundings, even though the food most certainly did.  If  you can get past that, its worth a trip.

Which brings us to Sanmini – the first restaurant in the North West to serve only South Indian cuisine. Nominated for ‘Best Newcomer’ at this year’s Manchester Food & Drink Festival, it’s cannily located in foodie-centric Ramsbottom, an area making a name for itself as a mecca for those appreciate good food. The restaurant was quiet when we arrived, but that was an advantage for us as we were encouraged to sit in the leather sofas in the foyer and study the menu.

My initial reaction was ‘oh, there’s not much choice’.  However, when you realise that absolutely none of the dishes are the familiar ‘curry house’ dishes we’re used to, it all becomes much more interesting and time consuming.  Our genial host was interrogated about virtually every dish, and his gently enthusiastic explanations helped us make some interesting and tasty choices.

Sometimes you have to live a little dangerously – forget the usual bhajis, samosas, rogan josh and dhansak dishes.  My starter of Idli & Sambar (steamed rice cakes with a lentil sambar, or sauce), was a comfort-food-mound that had a mischievous kick that dealt swiftly with a cold I’d been struggling with.  H had a Masala Dosai (his ‘dream date’ of a South Indian dish) which when done properly, which this was, is a structure to behold.  About 8-10 inches of rolled up, light, crispy pancake stuffed with spicy potato filling and served with chutney – which made him a very happy birthday boy.

Sadly I can’t remember what starters my parents ate, but all the main dishes were very tasty.  These included a mutton masala, a chicken dish with poppy, fennel and cashewnuts, and a chickpea and spinach curry.  The pleasure came from trying a range of new flavours and gaining an understanding of the fact that ‘a curry is not just a curry’.  For anyone bored with the ‘same old, same old’ curry, it’s worth making an effort to discover a new angle, and Sanmini does a great job of making that introduction.  The service was courteous and warm, the decor was neutral without a hint of flock wallpaper, and well worth a return visit.

Since visiting  Sanmini, we have also discovered a local restaurant in Northenden called Lotus.  They serve Malaysian and South Indian cuisine.  We sampled a takeaway, focusing on the South Indian side of the menu (as sadly most of the Malaysian offering was non-veggie friendly) – we found most dishes were a little doughy and carb-heavy, but perhaps we chose badly.  It may prove more interesting in the restaurant than via takeaway so perhaps one to revisit in future.

Or perhaps not the immediate future, ladies and gents, as we are now one week exactly from the expected arrival date of gastrobaby!  I am now steering well clear of any spicy curries, as I have no intention of this baby arriving early.  However, should another curry review appear on these pages in the coming weeks, you’ll know we went overdue!  In the meantime, there may be a slight lull in posts on this blog (what, another one?!).  I suspect that having a little screaming person to introduce to the delights of.. well just milk initially, may take up some considerable time.  Once we’ve recovered from the shock and have eaten our way through the stock of meals in our freezer (currently consisting of left over home made lasagne and ratatouille) I’m sure we’ll rediscover the world of restaurants and rejoin the rest of you in the real world!  Until then, here’s to 2010 – eat well!

Can someone explain to me why the police think it’s a good idea to carry out a traffic census during rush hour?  I know, I know, they have to monitor the traffic or something, but they ended up causing it, not measuring it!  Several people in my office, myself included, were late into work this morning.  I personally sat for nearly half an hour to travel a distance that would normally take approximately 1 minute.  There have been a few census points in the area this week, this is the first time I got caught and to my astonishment they’d set up two points in two different directions so there was no escape and the repercussions just fed back into the main traffic route.

Surely creating traffic, in order to monitor it, defeats the object?  And they are not only causing chaos on the roads, but costing me time, money (in petrol) and damaging the environment by having hundreds of cars sitting in queues with engines idling for hours at a time.

And Cheshire isn’t the only area to be hit.  I’ve seen reports online of a similar scheme being abandoned in Hull due to the gridlock it caused across half the city.

The police can get our addresses from the DVLA.  They can send us a form to fill in at home if they’re that bothered.  H and I have just completed a traffic survey for the DoT and Manchester City Council which we didn’t mind doing (especially as we are supposed to receive vouchers for doing so – although they’ve not arrived yet).  If I received a traffic census form in the post, I’d fill it in.  However, I’m afraid if I’m stopped in the coming week and handed a form, I will be tearing it up and throwing it away from pure irritation.

Rant over.

Having spent a few hours there, we felt disappointed and slightly let down.  Admittedly we were a week early for the Food & Drink Festival which may have changed our view, and the local farmer’s market wasn’t on but it still felt like any other market town we’ve ever been to (and we’ve been to a few now – you can tell you’re in one if you see a branch of The Edinburgh Woollen Mill!).  We found the good cheese shop which was fun (and smelly), and the owner was kind enough to point out the unpasteurised cheeses which weren’t suitable for me, being pregnant.  And we found a nice wholefood cafe to have lunch in which did the job of filling us up on broccoli and cheese bake and salads and scones.  But any other signs of this being an amazing foodie town were seriously lacking.  Maybe we were just looking in the wrong places and missed something really obvious, but it didn’t do anything for us.

So when it came to a choice of restaurant for the 40th celebration meal, we went for The Clive which is a ‘restaurant with rooms’ just outside of Ludlow in Bromfield.  It has two AA rosettes and an ‘entry in the Michelin guide’ (which I’m assuming is not the same as getting a Michelin star).  It’s also next door to Ludlow’s Food Centre which was the only sign we saw of Ludlow’s foodie credentials – a store selling local produce, surrounded by workshop areas where you can watch them making the bread, or butter, or meat or fish products, pies and so on. 

We rang The Clive beforehand to check the veggie options and as there was no mention of mushroom risotto or goat’s cheese tart, we thought we’d give it a try.  It turned out to be quite a sound choice.  It had a comfortable, warm atmosphere with a nice bar area to enjoy a drink before (and after) dinner with a good choice of quality whiskey, much to H’s delight. 

Our only criticism with the food was the inconsistent seasoning, mainly not enough but we figured that was better than too much.  H started with a smooth, creamy white onion soup which was delicious but needed salt and pepper.  I chose the potato gnocchi with gratin of leek and oyster mushrooms which also needed seasoning but was quite comforting, if a little over-filling. 

H’s main course of strudel with lightly spiced summer vegetables on a bed of baby fennel was full of flavour, if a little too salty (might be where the salt from the first course disappeared to) and made a welcome change from the usual boring veggie options.  His alternative choice of baked aubergines filled with chick peas, tomatoes and herbs with cous cous salad showed that the chef had some imagination when it came to providing for the non-meat eaters, which was refreshing.

My main course of chicken breast filled with ‘apricot and basil farce’ (whatever a farce is) with leeks and buttered mash nearly proved to be my undoing.  Having filled up on gnocchi, the large sliced chicken breast nearly overwhelmed me but I gave it my best shot.  It was moist, tasty, the apricots gave a nice tang, it but could have done with more basil as it was barely noticeable. 

Not ones to go down without a fight, despite being completely stuffed we ordered sorbet for dessert.  I always think that’s an easy one to ‘fit down the sides’ of the food already packed into a full belly!  I went for pink grapefruit which was zingy and refreshing.  H went for a scoop of lemon and one of raspberry.  He didn’t think the lemon was sharp enough.  I disagreed.  It didn’t stop him polishing his off though, I noticed.  And miraculously we found room for the yummy petit fours which came with the coffee at the end.

For a 40th birthday treat The Clive didn’t disappoint.  And looking at its website, its rooms look pretty comfortable too.  It reminded us a little of the Drunken Duck in the Lake District.  Maybe one to keep on the list for a future visit, even if we don’t bother with Ludlow itself.  There’s still all those bookshops in Hay-on-Wye to visit…

My enthusiasm for trying somewhere new was somewhat dampened however, by the realisation that being pregnant presented its own set of problems.  This is a whole new minefield we’re entering here folks.  Let’s put it this way – it’s a good job neither of us wanted starters, as from the whole (delicious) list, I could eat one, possibly two options and they were both from the specials board.  Once I’d discounted several dishes involving liver, plus the inevitable non-kosher bacon/ham etc ones, it didn’t leave much.  This is not a criticism of the restaurant, they can’t cater for everyone.  It was more a sobering reminder of my current limitations.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not being totally paranoid about this stuff – I’m the first to admit that I’ve accidentally eaten blue cheese, and egg yolks that weren’t totally cooked through.  My reaction was a shrug and an ‘oh well’.  But I’m not going out of my way to eat stuff I shouldn’t.

However, I was considerably cheered by my main course – roasted piri piri chicken breast, wonderfully juicy and tender with a subtle spice, with a little dish of hotter sauce to dip in, and moist buttery spinach.  The only off note was the accompanying patatas bravas which had a vague curry taste to it – simple boiled new potatoes would have been fine.  My friend’s sea bass with chorizo looked colourful and delicious and by all accounts, it was.

Having skipped the starter, I felt it only right that I sample a dessert.  The sticky toffee pudding was sticky, hot and moreish, with a gooey rich sauce and the most amazing spun sugar construction sitting on top that looked not unlike a Philip Treacy hat at Ascot.  Delicious.

H was right, his veggie option would have been something involving risotto, so he probably would’ve been disappointed.  But from my point of view, I was very happy.  It wasn’t overly expensive for the quality of the food, it was tasty and well cooked and presented.  The only drawback was the view from our table – over the car park.  But as it also provided decent people watching, we’ll forgive them that.  A good place for an occasional treat.  Especially when it’s within walking distance :-)

I must mention here too the Didsbury House Hotel.  Not strictly a restaurant, but we recently had a very lovely dinner there for a special occasion (our friends celebrated their joint 40th birthday and 10th wedding anniversary).  It was a great venue, we (about 20 people) had the ‘Blue Lounge’ to ourselves, with three tables set out for dinner with individual menus with our choices listed.  My choices of watercress soup to start, and sea bass with dauphinoise potatoes in a thyme veloute meant that it felt like I was having ‘green’ for dinner, as that seemed to be the overriding colour of my food.  However the dessert of  ’oozing’ chocolate pudding with vanilla ice cream, served in a big cup, was deliciously chocolately brown, and so rich that I only managed half.   A fine evening was had by all, the food was lovely, and the staff seemed to manage everything smoothly and efficiently.  I’m sorely tempted to book a room to see what it’s like to stay there – if I can afford it!

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