On the menus in this establishment there is a quotation from Hamlet, Act V, scene one, the 'Alas, poor Yorick' palaver that we all know so well. Far better would be a quotation from Act II of The Importance of Being Earnest; because this is the perfect place to go Bunburying.
Partly because it is an excellent place to hide, even if just to escape the crowds on Waterside. It is at the bottom of Sheep Street, just up from the chip shop, a small café/gift shop combo. And the recently refurbished outdoor space is the real gem here, with comfortable furniture squeezed into a tiny garden that is absolutely, positively the best place to sit in the sunshine writing in your diary, eating cucumber sandwiches and drinking Earl Grey tea in copious quantities. In fact, having ordered said cucumber sandwiches, it occurred to me that I know no other place in the town that sells them. For £2.50, you get two slices of bread, lightly moistened with margarine or butter and quite a few slices of crunchy-but-soft cucumber with a few leaves of salad and some crisps. The tea is the teapigs brand, popular in some of the more upmarket establishments in the town. Be warned - the combination of the two means that you will find your pinky finger creaks involuntarily outward with every bite and sip.
Following this up with the cream tea is practically compulsory. One of the few places to serve the scones warm and use clotted cream. This all adds up to a delectable melt-in-your-mouth concoction, a heady combination for eschewing your German grammar in favour of starting your revoltingly sentimental three volume novel.
Access: *****
Saturday, 31 May 2014
Thursday, 22 May 2014
White Horse Inn, Wroxton, Oxfordshire
This is exactly what a small country pub should be. It should recall the days of old when it was a stopping-off point for travellers - an old building, decent hunger-quenching fare. It should be halfway between places, in this case Banbury and Stratford-upon-Avon. It should feel local, not gastro-pub generic, or be full of ramblers and cyclists. It should hint at a chequered past (hasty repairs) and straitened finances (rusty barbecue). And it should have no less than two people sitting nursing a drink who do not take their eyes off you the whole time you are there, to the point of discomfort.
As this was only a refreshment stop, none of the food was sampled, although it certainly looked like a decent menu of chips, steaks and vegetarian options. I had a latte, decent enough, not too strong, half inch of foam, suitably thirst-quenching.
Access is not bad, considering the age of the building. There are a few too tight corners and small steps to negotiate especially to the garden. Ask the sunburnt local in the wife beater vest to give you a hand.
There is an additional bonus. To get to this place can mean driving through the village of Buckingham. And any Shakespearean worth their salt will not be able to resist the most amazing in-joke. On leaving the village, it is practically compulsory to turn to your companion(s) and say "So much for Buckingham".
If no one laughs, maintain a rigid hauteur for the rest of the journey and refuse to speak.
Access: *****
Latte: *****
As this was only a refreshment stop, none of the food was sampled, although it certainly looked like a decent menu of chips, steaks and vegetarian options. I had a latte, decent enough, not too strong, half inch of foam, suitably thirst-quenching.
Access is not bad, considering the age of the building. There are a few too tight corners and small steps to negotiate especially to the garden. Ask the sunburnt local in the wife beater vest to give you a hand.
There is an additional bonus. To get to this place can mean driving through the village of Buckingham. And any Shakespearean worth their salt will not be able to resist the most amazing in-joke. On leaving the village, it is practically compulsory to turn to your companion(s) and say "So much for Buckingham".
If no one laughs, maintain a rigid hauteur for the rest of the journey and refuse to speak.
Access: *****
Latte: *****
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Winthrop's Cafe, Hidcote, Gloucestershire
This place is not the sandwich and coffee bar just by the entrance, but the one in the garden itself. There is the right mix of history and modernity that the National Trust does so well. Parquet floors, wood-burning stoves, mock-Deco and Arts and Crafts furnishings, homely baking; but not so much that they do without a decent coffee machine, central heating and clean loos. The terrace outside is accessible, with a decent slope, flat paving and moveable furniture. It is also sheltered and accented with fairly picturesque plants and green, growing things. It is Nature just the way I like it, trimmed and pruned with no unseemly scruffs of overgrowth or wet slimy bits.
The menu is restricted but what is there is all speciality stuff. 'Lemon' and 'asparagus' were bandied about a lot, as were 'date', 'apple' and 'sultana'. You probably would not be surprised to know that 'lightly drizzled' was in there somewhere, along with 'balsamic'. It is the kind of the menu that stops just short of 'coulis' or 'jus'. I settled for an 'open sandwich' which turned out to be a generous portion of tuna mayo and six slices of cucumber laid on one slice of bloomer bread and loosely overlaid with a second slice of bread, accompanied by three cherry tomatoes, a few shreds of red onion and around five or six salad leaves. You have to start eating it with a knife and fork, such are its gargantuan proportions before you can resort to the traditional grab and gulp method. Tasty, very creamy, an ever-so-slightly sharp aftertaste and, interestingly enough, initially cold on the tongue and teeth. By which I mean, not fresh from the fridge but what a cold sandwich should be - not room temperature.
Drew opted for the gala pie, an oblong crusted portion, pale pink, almost Spam colour with a golden yellow egg all of which certified its fresh-made credentials. I was not allowed to taste it. The accompanying Earl Grey tea was just the way I like it, the scent being strong but the taste subtle.
Always worth having a walk around the gardens after lunch, designed by the reclusive, eccentric Laurence Johnson. Though if I was going to get rich and adopt an eccentricity it wouldn't be gardening. Something more me, perhaps. Like crisps. Or cheese.
Access: *****
The menu is restricted but what is there is all speciality stuff. 'Lemon' and 'asparagus' were bandied about a lot, as were 'date', 'apple' and 'sultana'. You probably would not be surprised to know that 'lightly drizzled' was in there somewhere, along with 'balsamic'. It is the kind of the menu that stops just short of 'coulis' or 'jus'. I settled for an 'open sandwich' which turned out to be a generous portion of tuna mayo and six slices of cucumber laid on one slice of bloomer bread and loosely overlaid with a second slice of bread, accompanied by three cherry tomatoes, a few shreds of red onion and around five or six salad leaves. You have to start eating it with a knife and fork, such are its gargantuan proportions before you can resort to the traditional grab and gulp method. Tasty, very creamy, an ever-so-slightly sharp aftertaste and, interestingly enough, initially cold on the tongue and teeth. By which I mean, not fresh from the fridge but what a cold sandwich should be - not room temperature.
Drew opted for the gala pie, an oblong crusted portion, pale pink, almost Spam colour with a golden yellow egg all of which certified its fresh-made credentials. I was not allowed to taste it. The accompanying Earl Grey tea was just the way I like it, the scent being strong but the taste subtle.
Always worth having a walk around the gardens after lunch, designed by the reclusive, eccentric Laurence Johnson. Though if I was going to get rich and adopt an eccentricity it wouldn't be gardening. Something more me, perhaps. Like crisps. Or cheese.
Access: *****
Wednesday, 30 April 2014
Shaw's Corner, Ayot St Lawrence, Hertfordshire
There is no café at the home of everyone's favourite Stalin-loving pacifist, despite his famous declaration that there was no love sincerer than the love of food. Instead, there is a small shed selling gardening stuff and ice creams.
Still, it gives you a chance to meander around the gardens and peer through the window of the writing hut, musing on the man and reflecting on the works.
And realize that he got it wrong. It is not alcohol that is the anaesthesia by which we endure the operation of life. It's a Cornetto.
Still, it gives you a chance to meander around the gardens and peer through the window of the writing hut, musing on the man and reflecting on the works.
And realize that he got it wrong. It is not alcohol that is the anaesthesia by which we endure the operation of life. It's a Cornetto.
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
Sarehole Mill Cafe, Hall Green, Birmingham
This childhood haunt of J. R. R. Tolkien does not have a large café, but that it entirely part of it's charm. It's just a small room in the old Miller's cottage serving light refreshments - meaning, of course, cakes and biscuits. If you were a local, this would be a lovely regular haunt. Despite the everpresent rumble of traffic on the Cole Bank Road, this really is a little oasis of rural peace. There's limited seating, but sit outside in the courtyard and soak up the romantic ambience of industrial Birmingham before traffic and suburbs*. The pot of tea was tasty enough - no standout brands for either tea of coffee but at less than 2 quid for either, who cares? Drinkable, refreshing and cheap enough to tempt you back for more.**
In the Cotswolds this place would be prettified beyond belief, groaning with ornamental flower borders and home-made lavender scones and chintzed-up countryside living. Birmingham museums tend to face up to the realities of an industrial past, focusing on more material matters - machines, technology; stuff. There are a few aspects of eye-rolling cheesiness in the form of the Tolkien homages - some 'search for Bilbo' game for the kids, so the magnificent ingenuity of the mechanization of food production is punctuated by pictures of characters from the books. However, it is complemented by some information describing Tolkien's own account of how the Mill and it's surroundings appear in the stories.
He's right, of course. The sprawling industrial suburbs wrecked his rural idyll. But, when you are sitting outside, drinking tea and listening to the sounds of the Mill and the traffic, you realize that this particular destination perfectly epitomises that moment when what was, becomes what is.
*Before, in fact, Birmingham was relatively 'uninhobbited'
**Or, if you like, 'hobbit-forming'
Access: *****
In the Cotswolds this place would be prettified beyond belief, groaning with ornamental flower borders and home-made lavender scones and chintzed-up countryside living. Birmingham museums tend to face up to the realities of an industrial past, focusing on more material matters - machines, technology; stuff. There are a few aspects of eye-rolling cheesiness in the form of the Tolkien homages - some 'search for Bilbo' game for the kids, so the magnificent ingenuity of the mechanization of food production is punctuated by pictures of characters from the books. However, it is complemented by some information describing Tolkien's own account of how the Mill and it's surroundings appear in the stories.
He's right, of course. The sprawling industrial suburbs wrecked his rural idyll. But, when you are sitting outside, drinking tea and listening to the sounds of the Mill and the traffic, you realize that this particular destination perfectly epitomises that moment when what was, becomes what is.
*Before, in fact, Birmingham was relatively 'uninhobbited'
**Or, if you like, 'hobbit-forming'
Access: *****
Wednesday, 23 April 2014
Morrisons Cafe, Stratford-upon-Avon
In terms of space, access is absolutely fine. Though the chairs and tables are bolted to the floor, someone has had the foresight to designate a couple of spaces at some tables for wheelchairs meaning that no one has to suffer the indignity of being perched on the end of a table, blocking the aisle and feeling horribly conspicuous. The main difficulty is that you have to serve yourself to virtually everything. Meaning that there are coffee machines, and coke machines, and milkshake machines and orange juice machines and a vast refrigerated counter of sandwiches, cakes, pasties, sausage rolls, biscuits, juice boxes, portions of fruit, bottles of water, fresh orange juice, fruit juice - if you have wheels, you won't be able to have coffee and a cake without help.
Meals
are ordered and paid for at the till and you are given a number to put on a
stand at your chosen table. At busy times, the place is dotted with these numbered
cards which, while not exactly love letters pinned to trees, are certainly
indicative of yearning appetites. In keeping with many establishments that
serve a variation on a chips-with-everything theme, items on the menu are
conscientiously labelled with the calorie content, and there are limited
options for vegetarians and vegans.
The breakfast menu is great. I recommend the Flying Start Breakfast. For a mere £2.79, you get egg, sausage, fried bread, half a grilled tomato and bacon which is as near as dammit only a portion of mushrooms short from many of the more expensive all-day options in the town. And the bacon is crispy, there's a glossy look about the sausages, a satisfying gravelly crunch on the fried bread, and an elegant, ever-so-slightly crispy frill around the fried egg. The fish and chips is only £4.75 and quite acceptable. Thick cut chips, not terribly crispy, but neither do they taste like warmed-over potatoes. A portion of cod, in a thickish batter, pale gold in colour and slightly crunchy. I had mushy peas, being, of course, the more civilized option, but you are offered baked beans and garden peas. Drew had the lasagne which is offered with salad as an option but we stopped laughing long enough to cut our losses and ask for the chips. The lasagne came served in a separate round dish, presumably as it is heated up when ordered, but at less than a fiver neither of us were anticipating full-on artisan fare.
Just a heads-up - you are charged 10p each for sachets of sauces and mayonnaises so be careful that an otherwise cheap meal doesn't get drowned in three quid's worth of condiments because you grabbed a handful of everything as a matter of course. Too much of a good thing and all that.
The breakfast menu is great. I recommend the Flying Start Breakfast. For a mere £2.79, you get egg, sausage, fried bread, half a grilled tomato and bacon which is as near as dammit only a portion of mushrooms short from many of the more expensive all-day options in the town. And the bacon is crispy, there's a glossy look about the sausages, a satisfying gravelly crunch on the fried bread, and an elegant, ever-so-slightly crispy frill around the fried egg. The fish and chips is only £4.75 and quite acceptable. Thick cut chips, not terribly crispy, but neither do they taste like warmed-over potatoes. A portion of cod, in a thickish batter, pale gold in colour and slightly crunchy. I had mushy peas, being, of course, the more civilized option, but you are offered baked beans and garden peas. Drew had the lasagne which is offered with salad as an option but we stopped laughing long enough to cut our losses and ask for the chips. The lasagne came served in a separate round dish, presumably as it is heated up when ordered, but at less than a fiver neither of us were anticipating full-on artisan fare.
Just a heads-up - you are charged 10p each for sachets of sauces and mayonnaises so be careful that an otherwise cheap meal doesn't get drowned in three quid's worth of condiments because you grabbed a handful of everything as a matter of course. Too much of a good thing and all that.
Access:
*****
Monday, 10 March 2014
KFC, Shires Retail Park, Warwick
This place looks like it should. By which I mean it's small, slightly shabby and the floors and tables are permanently sticky. Access is fine as long as the tables near the entrance are available, otherwise it involves a lot of moving of chairs and apologising to all and sundry.
I had the popcorn chicken with fries. Apparently this qualifies as a 'meal' - but that might be age talking. A teensy box of what are essentially chicken nuggets and the usual fast food fries. Still, it's cheap. And, apparently only 600 calories. It tasted the same as any fast food meal always does - that sort-of-salty meat taste that does something indefinable to your taste receptors and you are somehow convinced that what you are eating is wholesome and palatable and not at all bad for you, and by the way where's the rest can I have some more? Drew had the fillet burger meal which was served on a just-about-palm-sized bun with some rather flabby lettuce; but then this kind of stuff only has green stuff on it so you are duped into thinking there is something healthy in front of you.
I had the popcorn chicken with fries. Apparently this qualifies as a 'meal' - but that might be age talking. A teensy box of what are essentially chicken nuggets and the usual fast food fries. Still, it's cheap. And, apparently only 600 calories. It tasted the same as any fast food meal always does - that sort-of-salty meat taste that does something indefinable to your taste receptors and you are somehow convinced that what you are eating is wholesome and palatable and not at all bad for you, and by the way where's the rest can I have some more? Drew had the fillet burger meal which was served on a just-about-palm-sized bun with some rather flabby lettuce; but then this kind of stuff only has green stuff on it so you are duped into thinking there is something healthy in front of you.
Whatever you do, don't agree to tip both portions of fries onto the tray to 'share'. The resulting altercation is never pleasant, and people tend to stare.
Access: *****
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