No Glitch At The Flitch Part 2 (A Story of 2 Halves)

  

Starters, or pre starters to be exact were the Ham Hock & Lincolnshire Poacher Croquettes. They were spot on. Crispy Shells and soft and gooey inside. The cheese really came through. Perfect little quartet. I wish I’d had a bash on the quails eggs though. Maybe next time.

My starter was a Veloute of Pea, with Ravioli of Pork Belly. You could easily slice through the pasta ( or pastor as John Torode would call it ). The Pea Veloute had reL conviction to it, a strong sense of necessity and great consistency. I won’t hold back on this one, it was better than the Super Bowl. Actually, scrap that, I hate American football. I don’t normally do food pictures, but, I wish I had because it tasted better than it looked.. And it looked like Beyoncé , naked on a triangle tower of Ferrero Rocher. For equality purposes, it may have looked like Brad Pitt perched naked on a tub of Toffee flavoured Ben & Jerry ice – cream.

Okay, I saw this picture on Twitter and on reflection I have to concede that no matter good my explanation was, nothing summed it up like the clarity and quality of this photo. Massive cahoonas to @joevans16 for your foresight, photography skills, permission and input into this piece.

  
CHECK THAT OUT! ( courtesy of ajoevans16 )

This was Jo’s brief summary of the Flitch of Bacon:

“The refurb is excellent. Staff attentive, interactive, and informative about the food. It was evident they enjoyed working there. The food was yummy at a reasonable price, delivered with flawless execution” 

Well said that lady!… Below is the Pan Roasted Stone bass again courtesy of my new official photographer @joevans16 .. Thank you Jo.

  
For her starter, GB had the Salt Baked Beetroots, with a Golden Beetroot Marmalade, Shortbread and Goats Cheese. I cannot stand Beetroot. GB though loves every ingredient mentioned witching that dish and as a combination they went together like a line in that last song in Grease the musical. You know the one .. ( the “we go together like Rama lama lamma ka dinga da dinga dong” ).. Yes, the one no-one knows what they are singing!… I didn’t taste it but her little boat race lit up as she was eating like fireworks at new year. The empty plate was testament to the food.

Mains, it was a Sunday. I had the Pork, purchased so locally it could have walked over to the plate. Served with a chestnut stuffing, Apple Sauce and extra roasties for moi. There was also a carrot swede and carrot ( I think ) fusion with cinnamon inspiration. You also had your compulsory Broccoli and I believe Mange Tout but don’t hold me to that. 3 things on this plate hit me like a 10lb sledgehammer. The Stuffing was just ridiculous. I could have eaten a bowl of that on its own. It had a flavour of Black Pudding almost. Better still it wasn’t a stodgy stuffing. Your knife ran through it. Then you had the gravy!… Oh dear the gravy. Sorry that should be Oh dear lord the gravy. The gravy had flavour deeper than the River Roding ( keep it local ). Next time I visit the Fitch of B a on I am having a pint of Pork gravy!

The gravy had to be going some to outshine the Tenderness of the Pork. It was level pegging it the meat was as succulent as it could be. Slightly pink it packed more punch than a Mike Tyson uppercut, although that is not an experiment I’d be willing to put to the test. The Flitch doesn’t do half measures on your food either. There was a lot of meat on the plate. Interestingly, not enough to deter one from having a dessert.

The treacle went for Beef, it was serve pink and was almost flawless. The only reason I say almost was the missing Horseradish sauce GB loves her Horseradish Sauce and so we sent out a search party. Ok what I mean is we asked one of the many staff. Within an instant a disaster was averted. Horseradish upon us it was all systems go. I tried a slither of Beef. It was melt in your mouth stuff. The red wine gravy complemented it perfectly. I’m not a fan of Cauliflower Cheese but I have it on good authority from my beloved that it delivered on both flavour and texture. Creamy but with a little bite.

http://www.flitchofbacon.co.uk
So we arrive at dessert. Apple Tart Tatin (for 2) served with a very tasty vanilla ice cream on top. It was sticky, can it be too sticky? My teeth told me to be careful of fillings. It was very sweet, but it was lovely. The apple and the ice cream on the same spoon were simply meant to be. GB thought dessert was lovely but that there was too much of it possibly. She did have the bigger half ( apparently ). I beg to differ, and I could have eaten it again.

Overall several things stand out about the FOB. The first being value for money. The Flitch certainly don’t scrimp on portion size in an attempt to save/make money. The produce is mostly gathered within the Essex and Suffolk borders, or within close proximity (Sussex, Hampshire), so provenance is not in question. The meat is so local you could throw a stone from the pub window and possibly hit a pheasant. Please note I am not suggesting that as a  viable or sporting option!

  
Of course it would be remiss of me to not mention the staff. The service we were given was second to none. Studious in their approach, I could only elucidate this better by saying it was almost as if they were walking to a floor plan. All provided service with a smile, and while we were served by maybe 5 different members of staff, each of them I’m sure were equipped to answer any questions we had relating to the food, wine or history of the FOB. As Jo put it, it was evident the staff were happy to be there. Teal gave us a brief history as to why the pub is so called and about the Flitch trials. Alan recommended a glass of one of the finest Riojas I’ve ever had the pleasure to drink. For the record it was a Marques de Reinosa Rioja 2013. Then there was Jordan who spoke excitedly about the ambition and dynamic that the owners are trying to create.

I’ve not even mentioned the chefs. Danny Gill take a bow squire!

This was one of the best meals I’ve had in ages. I rate Tredwells as the best Sunday Roast in Londinium. Essex now has a roast to match it. Simply put there cannot be a better Sunday dinner in this neck of the woods, or even this side of Epping Forest. The Flitch delivered on all fronts and passed its own trial of Little Dunmow. If the food continues to be this good going forward then Mr. Clifford should be one happy restaurant owner, and his tracky bottoms and hoody look will be forgiven.

My missus has a habit of bumping into well known chefs. Sunday was no different. She was spot on with her words to you though Mr.Clifford, they are doing you proud in there!

You REALLY need to visit people. You’ve no idea what you are missing!

Rowleys, Restaurant with the cure

I think it’s fair to say that these days in London, and this is just my humble opinion, if you want a top notch steak in 2016, ( I nearly said 15 there, how quickly time passes us by ), most would look no further than a Hawksmoor or Goodman Restaurant. I’m not suggesting that there aren’t others pulling on their shirt tails, just that at this moment in time, these two names stand out as the daddies for carnivorous consumers. No point in lying, I’ve never been to either. I’ve gone to book in the past but quite often, the funds aren’t there or it’s simply the case that there isn’t the space in the diary. If you go with what you read in your foodie mags/blogs and vlogs you may find it hard to come across a better option. 

  
The thing is, if these are the modern day daddies, what was there before? Who was the uncle or the granddaddy from which these guys got their inspiration? …The answer to this is unknown to me, mainly because I’m a bit lapse on the research front but I’m doing this for free so give a man a break. I will though take a little shot at naming a couple of them. The beefeater and Harvester chain, ( come on!.. Free salad )..I’m just yanking your chain as our cousins across the pond might say. 

For a start there is Langans in Stratton Street. A great restaurant with a quality menu, and a great, and colourful history. It’s also home of my first foodie faux pas. I was a kid, just a whipper when taking my now wife out for a posh meal. As the waiter offered me veg, I, trying to be cool, put my hand up stopping him. “No thanks, no broccoli for me”… His reply without batting an eyelid “very well sir, but it’s actually courgette”.. Of course I love courgette, but I had made my bed, and I had to lye in it, with only carrots and green beans for company. I also went there for my 30th birthday. No real tales to tell about that, not in print anyway, suffice to say it was an unforgettable birthday. 

Then we have Rowleys restaurant in Jermyn Street, ST James’s.. If Langans is your uncle that turns up at your party and is a little loud, Rowleys is the rich grandad that sits in the corner minding his own business, not needing to talk of his abundant riches. On the night I met her indoors, (GB as she is known thanks to a nickname given to her by 2 of our closest friends ), she had actually been for a night out at Rowleys with her local darts team. GB was then being dropped off at an 18th birthday party in Forest Gate, which is virtually the same in stature and society circles. In the past we had spoken about the place (Rowleys, not Forest Gate) and I’m sure we have eaten there once before but until we went there recently, after our visit to the “Crime Exhibition” at the Museum Of London, I’d never realised what a splendid building it was.

So it was fortunas edwardo, and with some consideration on GBs part that on this, our 14th wedding anniversary, we found ourselves sitting at a table near the rear of the restaurant. To our left was a beautiful white spiral staircase, to our right, table after table of satisfied diners. What a fantastic setting for a celebratory meal. A magnificent dining room steeped in history. This building for a long period was home to the now famous Walls Meat business, ( think of the advert where the dog says “sausages” ). I had agreed to let GB take care of arrangements for the special day, and she hadn’t let us down. 

  
You have to hope in the circumstances it won’t be grandeur over grub. I’m pleased to say it wasn’t. GB had the beetroot salad. I went for the old faithful, soup, more precisely Pumpkin Soup. I like my soup. Happy to say Rowleys version didn’t let me down. The loop the loop was hot, but not scolding hot like it can be sometimes. You know the type I mean, you end up blowing on it for half an hour trying to cool the bugger down. I suppose, it was above lukewarm but below lip burning temperature. The beetroot salad looked good enough to eat, and that’s precisely what ensued. No complaints on the starters.

On our way to Rowleys, GB and I both confessed to a lack of hunger. How things change!

When you visit Rowleys there are some quality choices food wise. For us two though it was an easy decision. Chateaubriand all the way squire! … With a side of spinach and as many fries as one can handle you simply cannot go wrong with this option. I think the spinach was my way of trying to incorporate “healthy” into the mains, but I probably had too many chips to do that justice. The wife had lots of chips as well. Sadly quite a few of them ended up sprayed across the floor in one of those duck your head down moments we all have now and again. You know, the one when your knife slips and thrashes the contents of your plate to surburbia and back. Luckily these potato laden rude boys were like the coca – cola in Pizza Hut, unlimited!

I’m still thinking about that beef as I’m writing this…and It was over 2 weeks ago!

Served up on a small tripod shaped warming plate ( I don’t know how else to describe it ), the beef just fell apart. I might be dribbling. With a ( very ) small token gesture of salad, and a little spinach it was heavenly. I’m not stating its new age cooking beyond the realms of a mere mortal, but what it is, most definitely is straight forward British cooking at a bloody ( medium rare ) good standard!… It was food I could eat every day, or at least I could if ….

  • I lived and worked nearby
  • Had a pocketful of wonga ( that’s money, not a tiny version of a loan company )
  • Was able to survive on just high grade steak and chips 24/7

I’m sure there are other reasons but for now, those are enough. Rowleys provided us with a Chateaubriand. 2 years ago a favourite eatery of ours served us up a truffle covered Mac’n’Cheese with our Beef. It was all lovely but the M’a’C was wasted and unnecessary. It was one of the new kids on the block, and is a place for indulgence. Rowleys served up enough food, well cooked delicious food. The correct amount for 2 people

 This is where I go back to the granddaddy analogy. If Mac’n’Cheese place was the kid coming of age, then Rowleys is the understated glamorous old girl in the wing-backed Chesterfield armchair whispering stories of days gone by. Not needing the attention, but receiving it nonetheless, her stories are there for all to see. People are fascinated by her, and rightly so. She still looks elegant but with a playful glint in her eye. Give the lady a sherry, she will sip it, restful and calm. Crack open the tequila and the quiet dame will not look out of place partying all night. That’s for me sums up Rowleys very nicely.

Rowleys Restaurant
  
Desserts. Straight forward. GB had the sorbet. Gingerbread I believe was one flavour and the other was possibly pistachio, but its debatable. We have confirmation on the gingerbread front. It was hard to forget, it was that tasty.while I went for the blood orange posset with jelly and shortbread. The sorbet was exquisite and the posset was very nice. The jelly didn’t win me over but overall It was a nice finish to the meal.  Ooh and a quick high five for the shortbread. Awesome. 

Throw in a cheeky Irish coffee and we were dandy. The two of us had split a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc between us, a Mount Franklin Marlborough. I have to say while you can argue it didn’t suit the food it still hit the spot for us. We concluded the evening with a glass of what you would class as a house white from Francais. No problems with that. I had trouble finishing what was a large glass but luckily GB was at hand to help me out. That’s why I married her!

An amazing night in a legend of a restaurant. Rowleys we salute you!

in case you were wondering about the title of piece. Rowleys opened in 1976, the same year that Robert Smith formed well known band The Cure. Just for trivial purposes I looked it up, and Mr. Smith is the only original member left in said band, but like Rowleys, in an ever changing world he is still a constant that works. 

This piece is dedicated to my uncle who was a top man. He would have loved the no nonsense approach of Rowleys. Short on height but not in heart, you will be missed UJ. X