First things first, The Peat Inn is stunning. The decor is regal enough to suggest what food aspirations they have without being overbearing and the art (and artefacts) are obviously genuine enough to avoid tack. However, as I’m not an interior designer I will skip over any further discussion of the fineries of the surroundings of what promises to be an excellent meal. So, having ordered and been escorted through to the dining area we were swiftly brought our amuse-bouche of celeriac soup with a walnut crisp. My dislike of being served soup in a coffee cup aside the soup was hot but sorely lacking in salt. Once the shaker had been passed around the table it must be said that it was very tasty and the walnut crisp was perfectly judged to add some texture and was wonderful coated in the, properly seasoned, soup.

Next, after the perfect pause, came my starter of langoustine tails with an artichoke panna cotta, both of which had been perfectly prepared. The sweetness of the tails was not overwhelmed by the artichoke which was subtle and a perfect consistency. Unfortunately I did feel somewhat disappointed as, though the langoustine had not been overwhelmed, they could have been lifted to another plane by some, more complex, flavour. 

For main course I was keenly anticipating a trio of pork; daube, loin and rolled belly. Again, each piece was delivered with excellence. The daube was soft, succulent and full of rich flavour, the loin tender and moist and the belly salty and roasted to perfection. The problem once again was that there was nothing to really propel it to the level the Peat Inn clearly wishes to be on. The roast veg served with it were cooked as to have just the right bite and the jus was delicious but didn’t properly tie the dish together. Though it may be have designed as such, a plate of three beautiful but distinct cuts of pork, though delicious, needed something to bring it together to give it the michelin edge you might expect.

The meal was rounded off with rhubarb clafoutis. I’m a big fan of clafoutis and its marvellous warming attributes married with a rich sweetness cut through by tart fruit its exactly what you need from a winter dessert. This time it hit the spot dead-centre. Just the right quantity of rhubarb to allow me to enjoy in the thick creamy base without immediately cutting through to spoil the decadence. Furthermore, it was served piping hot. Part of a great pudding like this is being able to drink in the smell and being made to wait for that part of the meal you really want, like wading through the peas and carrots left on your plate as a child to get to pudding I had to wait for the dish to cool just enough before being able sink in my spoon and it was all the better for it.

Overall, the meal was very enjoyable. Each ingredient was cooked flawlessly but the menu left something to be desired. It’s easy to wonder whether had there only been one piece of pork on my plate maybe some extra thought may have gone into making the dish complete. That said, the technical ability shown was fantastic and when asked to apply to a traditional dish the chefs really shone it’s just when there’s a michelin star on show it isn’t too much to ask for that little bit extra, is it?

Last night, while in a state of near inebriation, it was pointed out to me that if I want to write for a living I should probably starting writing as an amateur first. ‘Yes, that makes sense!’ is the cry from the rational part of my brain. ‘No!’ the answer from the part of me that wonders if blogging is actually just the self-obsessed ramblings of those who are too concerned with their own opinions. The obvious reply to my less than rational part is, of course, that blogs are not any of those things. They are in fact a wonderful stage for anyone and everyone to air opinions and share the things that they enjoy, abhor, believe in or simply have never experienced before. At any rate, I am self-obsessed and I am concerned with my own opinions (mainly because they are the correct ones… well…) so doing this should suit me down to the ground.

So, I’ve started. I’ve written my first paragraph and it wasn’t all that bad, was it? The next problem to deal with is what I will write about in the future. I can’t continue in the same vein and write a succession of blogs about writing my 2nd, 3rd, 4th… blogs. The chances are I’ll end up writing mostly about music I love and the music I’m just getting into but I will try at least to do some food criticism. I can think of no greater pleasure than to work as a food critic. The only drawback to it, I suppose, would be my ballooning stomach attempting to match my ego as the chance to be paid to eat and write about it would, combined with lying laughing on the floor at how lucky I am to have such a job, doubtless leave me doing nothing but typing, eating and sleeping in a perpetual cycle of utter bliss. I must add of course that , if the chief editor of the michelin guide is reading, I would be terribly hard working and completely impartial all the same (the sleeping would take a back-seat).

I’ll leave it there for my first post. Fingers crossed I’ll be back soon to add more thoughts that I may never tell anyone I’ve written. If you’re lucky I will tell you and my next post about the intricacies and delicate flavours of the fish-finger sandwich I’m about to eat will leave you marvelling at my incr-edible (ha, get it?) powers of rhetoric and impartial appraisal. Chow (I did it again!) for now.

S