Another Glorious Weekend in Dorset!

We stayed at the wonderfuly named "Piddle Inn" again. On the banks of the river Piddle. J's treat for my B'day and we couldn't have hoped for better weather. Dizzy was very glad of the cool, clear water running literally by the the side of the beer garden.



We walked for miles and miles. It is absolute heaven to get away from all the traffic and people. We didn't see another person all day!


We set off from the pub and walked in all directions (but always towards a pub of course). In nearby Cerne Abbas there are loads of good pubs, including the New Inn which is newly opened after a re-furb and has one of the nicest beer gardens...There is also the 'Brace of Pheasants' at nearby Plush, although annoyingly we never seems to be able to catch them when they're open. Never mind they have been taken out of the Michelin Guide anyway!


the views around the area are breathtaking!



Reminiscent of another wonderful weekend we had earlier in the year at Great Malvern....


Lets hope this Summer weather continues for us..

Another trip to one of my favourite cities....
The contro versial Birmingham architecture...with rain fast approaching...


before lunch we visited the famous fish markets and were amazed at the different strange things on offer...not only the fish...


and the fresh crabs (my favourite). We had some little tubs of crayfish and welks to "keep us going til lunch" whilst we ambled round...



but what about this.............



at the back of this cabinet is....yes that's right...anyone for goats head stew????!!!.....(yuk)!!!!



and then there's the nasty stuff...(Not that High F-W would agree of course)


Some of the quality of the fish was a bit disappointing,
but there was a massive choice - meat and fish and frozen stuff...


But this was why we were here....there was even grouper!!


Anyway, when we'd had enough of walking around this smelly place, we headed outside to the open air market to buy (the biggest) stuffed olives you'd ever seen. And the woman selling them was so obsessive about them (understandably) she wouldn't allow them to be mixed together when they were sold - so we ended up £16 worth of half a dozen bags of various varieties (which inevitably ended up all in the same bowl in the fridge when we got home (well, all the ones that were left, that is;) there was a long train journey remember)!

On the basis that the wonderful, marvellous Teppanyaki is closed for lunch (why oh why?) and that shockingly, Le Blancs place has now closed (why oh why? - one of my favourites!), we headed to the next best... The Bank. Inevitably, it was very busy, but at least the menu is good. There wasn't too many screaming kids (thank God).



Unfortunately, despite it's friendly but corporate atmosphere, the food was a bit disappointing. We've been there a few times and this was by far the worst. L is allergic to coriander (poor love) so I made a point of telling the waiter. But... you guessed it, the chef just couldn't help himself, could he? There on top of the starter was a giant sprig of (to L was..) "the evil-looking green stuff". Did he not understand? The other starters were fine. Mains weren't...J had steak (of course) which was fine, L&C had the veal (too much sauce I think - not particularly appetizing-looking). I had the roasted halibut - which had been so over cooked it had gone completely dry and lost all taste. It was sitting on some asparagus which (a bit too early in the season for UK stuff) when questioned had apparently come from the same place my (lovely) new bear originates from...



We decided to share the "puddings for 2" (x2 of course) and they went down very well.
Later, I had a chat with the manager, Brett - lovely guy from South Africa. I think they just had a bad day. And the menu is desperate for a change - he agreed.

Next weekend we're off to the wonderful city of .....Bradford (!!) Oh, I can't wait!!

Copster Green is a quiet, rural Lancashire village. Not the place I’d expect to find a collection of Ferraris and Porsches parked up outside an unlikely roadside Chinese restaurant.

Yu and You’s is a funky modern restaurant with highly rated freshly prepared food and excellent staff. We stopped off late at night after a dinner at the Michelin-starred Eastcote Manor (conveniently, just up the road) so couldn’t sample the food (maybe next time). By then, the evening and the restaurant had evolved (or deteriorated, depending on your perspective) into a cocktail bar with a loud and busy dance floor. The DJ was very good – if not a little out of his depth here (e.g. the only Phil Collins he could find was 'you can't hurry love' (!!!) Drinking and driving seems to be an accepted and necessary method of socialising ‘round these parts – and I was glad we had a taxi booked - one of the younger celebs we saw departing in his sports car with three young ladies on his arms(s) definitely was over the limit. Other famous people at the bar included some motorcyclist (never heard of him)…

Dinner earlier at Nortcote Manor, by the way, had been very very good. Not as good as some other Michelin-starred places I’ve been (listen to me) but still very good. It's proud of the chef, Nigel's history of retaining his star for about 10 years. Michelin aren’t usually so generous. What makes the place special is the small, homely atmosphere. It’s a gothic Victorian buiding, so lends itself well to the oak panelling and red carpets, but it isn't dark.

It was almost like sitting in someone’s front room for pre-dinner drinks, a bit like Rutland Water’s Hambleton Hall. Poor Craig had quite a challenge to explain the (in my view a bit too complex) menus to everyone and take all the orders. He made an excellent choice of wine for us (it's always an interesting test to ask the sommelier to choose something appropriate for the dishes we've ordered). There were a lot of staff, but unfortunately no-one (apart from Craig) seemed to really know what they were doing. They spilled the wine, delivered too much bread and didn’t refill the wine as often as I would have liked. Why didn’t they just leave the cutlery where it was rather than faffing around with it after every course? I made the mistake of ordering the goat (yes, I know, maybe the champagne had gone to my head). Not sure what I expected – but it didn’t deliver. The better choices around the table were the venison - no lets get this right "Loin of Roebuck" (excellent - no 'seminal' says J) and the beef. Interestingly there were no “inbetweeners” (sorbets etc) that you quite often get offered at a Michelin-starred place like this, but the time delay between courses was about right (if only they’d got round to the wine). The truly worthwhile ‘inbetweener’ was (of course) the word from the kitchen letting us know the rugby score (at which a cheer from our fellow diners was heard)! This was even more worthwhile as the kitchen-staff were French (he he=). The dining room was far too hot; it was warm outside so the log fire and radiators were overkill tonight. So we quickly escaped back to the lounge where the doors to the fanous gardens were opened and the whiskys and ports were waiting. Overall, very good, not as slick or stylish as I expected, but a really informal, enjoyable evening with great company - thanks to M & C:)

Next morning, we got up quite early to visit the nearby designer outlet place and with proper Lancashire bacon butties inside us ( - after all, it was at least 12 hours since we had eaten!) take up the opportunity of some excellent retail therapy (essential on a Sunday with a hangover). On the way home we inevitably we had to stop at the best local Farm shop in the area http://www.huntleys.co.uk/ (currently undergoing a refurb/expansion). We bought some excellent wild boar and other bits and bobs and treated ourselves to some award-winning and famous local ice-cream (cointreau and orange was the winning flavour) before hitting the motorways again.... picture to follow....

We discovered another fantastic 'foodie' supplies place yesterday - the very stylish Daylesford Organics near Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire. (NB To my Southern friends - they also have outlets in London). Apart from a marvellous collection of fresh produce (including local mushrooms and hand-made (award winning) cheeses) (no, we couldn't resist spending alot of money in this bit) - there is also a cafe, 'garden' shop (no bags of compost to be found here I'm afraid - only top of the range linen and suede aprons (£95 each) and beautiful, designer garden 'accessories'), and also a clothes shop selling very nice quality cashmere jumpers and of course (no self-respecting social gardener should be without them) that essential pair of fashionable Hunter Wellies.




Turns out the whole place is slightly surreal - from the artificial outside bar area surrounded by topiary to the Polish staff serving wine tastings. The whole 1500 acre site is owned by the Bamford family (JCB) and this is the 'little hobby' which 'keeps the wife happy' (!) No expense has been spared and no wonder the locals have heavily criticised this 'footballer's wives' type of development. Flying celebrities in and out via helicopter and various Ferraris racing up and down the country lanes doesn't really fit well with the organic and slow food philospohy. But then I suppose we're all hypocrites to a certain extent...


It's a lovely location though, set in converted stone farm-buildings next to a completely unspoilt pretty Cotswold village, which is surrounded by good pubs including the one we went to for lunch - The oldy-worldy Michelin recommended Fox Inn at Lower Oddington (another one crossed off the list)They were very busy - so it was lucky we booked. J & C both had (predictably) the home-made steak and ale pie (which disappointingly to the CRAP (Campaign for Real Ale Pies) member who we know, was served with the unforgivable PUFF pastry rather than the traditional shortcrust version - pedantic I know - but these things are important to some people !!!) C went for the unusual rabbit casserole (very good) and I had the scallops (risky, I know, in view of our location and season -but also very good). The atmosphere was very relaxed and the service OK. My only criticism of the place would be they seem to need more staff, and I wished the chef had warmed the plates before he served the main courses - it really does make a difference - especially for my poor poached pear (which was barely poached) but the excellent chocolate sauce made up for these minor errors. Overall, it was a lovely long lunch and the staff really did try their best to keep up appearances, despite the challenge of keeping everyone in the 3 dining rooms happy.

Afterwards, we had a nice walk in the Autumnal sunshine around Bledington church and I spied a nearby opportunity (lottery win dependant) in the shape of an abandoned old Victorian, double-fronted cottage (with a bit of land attached). We had a peep through the dusty old (rotten) sash windows at the large brown printed wallpaper, falling off the walls in the corners where the damp had come through and the white hand rails where the elderly resident had (once) clung on to life. In the kitchen was the original old cooking range, with the red quarry-stone floor tiles surrounded by a hideous 70's kitchen unit. Ghostly. It is due to go to auction soon. Oooooh if only!

Next time we're down that way, we're going to try the other highly recommended pub nearby - the Kings Head Inn at Bledington. Which apparently is famously associated with the annual village Morris Dancing outside the pub on the village green (how quaint)...!

'It's all about making do' says DH - That's camping! the difficulty is in the packing (something He, of course, doesn't get involved with..) i.e. how do you pack the minimum amount of stuff for the maximum amount of comfort (or rather perhaps the minimum amount of inconvenience)??!! ? The trick is to think in sections of the day/night: e.g. the air-bed is a must for getting a decent night's sleep (as are my ear plugs - I'm a very light sleeper)! Tea bags and a kettle (that means (at the very minimum) a small gas canister, a lighter and a pint of milk for breakfast (!). The list goes on... and your car boot very soon fills up; with stuff that you never imagined you would need - but find yourself thinking 'but I can't possibly do without THAT' (e.g. iPod and speakers, (and maybe a bear ...))!!!
We stayed for the first time at the excellent South Penquite camp site which is probably the most unusual of all the campsites we've stayed at all over the world. Briefly - they are a working Organic (officially registered) livestock farm, near to the site of Brown Willy - no really that really is the name of the highest hill in Cornwall, and home to a number of ancient sites of standing stones and stone circles nearby to the legendary Athurian Tintagel. The farmer, Dominic Fairman (very dashing) and his large family are obviously not in it for the money -the camp site is not even half used and then declared 'fully booked' on the sign outside (!) Situated on a glorious southwest facing hill overlooking the unspoilt scenery of Bodmin Moor - you couldn't hope for a better location. No caravans or campers allowed - which also adds to the sense of 'making do': no serious campers here - only proper tents and hikers allowed. On the lower field is the 'Yurts' - the ready-made teepees with integral stoves and camp-beds (the added luxury comes at a price!) The facillities here were OK - nothing special. The showers are solar-powered (so best to get there at the end of the day rather than in the (luke warm, very busy) mornings). No tiles, only (apparently) recycled yoghurt pots as an interior plastic covering to the wooden buldings - maybe more of a gimmick than a worthwhile investment (?). Funnily enough, the new shower block doesn't include a loo block and the although it's lovely to have a large shower cubicle all to yourself (even if it is a coldish dribble of water on offer), it's rather frustrating to have to walk more than 50 feet away to the loo block to find the 3 (cold only) sinks to brush your teeth at (!). The only warm water available is at the washing-up sinks outside the shower-block (strange). Overall - rather an ill-thought-out arrangement - but hey, maybe stage 2 of their investment will include fitting sinks and loos in each cubicle too (!??)
What made up for this (let's be honest, nothing more than...) inconvenience was the excellent location, and general ambience of the place, which was summed-up by the drifting smell of evening smoke from everyone's old-fashioned camp fires (£4 for logs from the farmhouse): something you are rarely allowed on regular camp sites in the UK. Also the daily visits from the groups of ducks and geese and turkeys which went on 'hoovering-up' sessions round the whole campsite, in search of remnants from each group's BBQ. Not sure whether J would have been happy with this lot on top of MY car....
But the quiet sunsets were something very special....

Importantly, there are two pubs nearby (i.e. within biking distance) (nothing fancy you understand, this is a bit of a food-desert as far as restaurant guides are concerned, unless you're self-sufficient): The Blisland Inn and the Old Inn at St Breward - both good in their own way: the Blisland better for friendly service and proper beer - it's not often you see a bar like this any more - low old beams full of old beer mats and glasses, where the locals still have their own designated pewter beer jugs (and the sign behind the bar advertises snuff available at £2) - whereas the Old Inn is a bit more commercialised and situated very high above sea level with marvellous views of the surrounding area and specialises in proper pub grub with a good value carvery on offer on Sundays. Maybe we were slightly biased towards the Old Inn, as we reached it after a long, hot and sun-burnt 25 mile bike-ride (via Bodmin) along the last bit of the Camel Trial that we needed to cover from a previous trip. It was a real effort to climb - in 'top-top' gear (I admit to having to get off and walk a few yards) up the final big hill to the top of St Breward - but well-worth it. The views were amazing! And everyone we met said hello on the way - it was a bit strange at first - but that's the way of these Cornish people. We were glad that the local shop was open too.
Maybe we shouldn't have stopped at Bodmin for quite so long - but J had to see the Lewis sadly lose the F1 at the Weavers Inn . (We were glad to see it's now got new mangement since our last visit and has had a re-furb). Bored, I escaped for a while to have a walk around and visited the Thomas a Becket chapel at nearby St Petroc's church where the gargoyles mark the ancient water spring that once serviced the whole of Bodmin until quite recently. I had a chance there to say a prayer for my poor guilt-ridden Catholic soul and also to have a nice conversation with a local old lady who was busy collecting blackberries from the graveyard hedgerows. She was very enthusiastic in telling me how she had felt so guilty about taking the blackberries to make into useful and delicious jams and pies, so much so, that last week she had taken two made-up jam-jars round to the Old Rectory nextdoor to give to the vicar. Predictably, he had thanked her for her trouble and assured her that she should help herself to as many berries as necessary (and apparently hastily took the jams, mumbling something about the forthcoming Harvest Festival). By the time I had returned to the Weavers the skies had turned cloudy, Lewis had finished 5th, and it was time to set off on the long journey home to South Penquite via Tressaret and the old quarry.

We found some lovely places to buy good quality local food along the way. The best was St Kew Farm shop at St Maybyn, which stocks the famous Blue Mango bakery products - the best organic bread in the UK (OK, maybe I've said that before, but the hot food here is fantastic). The fresh veg selection is also amazing and I didn't find it difficult to quickly spend £30 before our return home on everything from runner beans to fresh coffee (and the chilli chocolate was very tempting too).
The only disappointing aspect of the trip was the fishing. Coarse fisherman probably would be quite happy here, but J's fly fishing was spoilt by the lack of maintenance of the beats and the hot weather. Fish were few and far between and even the ones we saw were tiddlers. I've emailed Angling 2000 with some feeback as we had to pay them to fish these beats in advance. Luckily, I'd brought my sketch-pad and pencils to while-away the many hours in the sunshine while J struggled with trying (unsuccessful) different flies...but later he did manage some success when his kite got into the air a few times over the campsite (much to wonderment of the other campers)...
What I like about this place is everything is very understated...the footpaths and villages are barely signposted and even the excellent nearby East Rose cottage (fishing lakes) have no real clue as their true purpose. The moor ponies at the side of the road (and even the occasional cow) add to the atmosphere to make this place a really desolate but mysterious place. Very peaceful and relaxing. Next time we will try the nearby Temple Fishery which apparently (we found out too late) is the best place to catch yourself a decent brown trout...Although 'next time' now will probably be in the Springtime I guess.......

This time it's Summer -and - as I'm now officially a "proper" (i.e. full time) student (albeit not for much longer)and we are both students celebrating the end of another academic achievement - it was to be my first experience in a Youth Hostel . Now I realise what I've missed out on!!!

It's kind of a nice comfortable balance between camping and staying in a B&B - there's a great atmosphere when everyone's mucking-in to clear the tables after breakfast or drop off the sheets at the laundry in the morning. It was.. different!

We stayed at Esthwaite Hall, a listed Regency mansion on the edge of Esthwaite water (obviously) about 0.5 miles outside Hawkshead (near Ambleside).

This (above) is the view of Hawkshead Youth Hostel - surrounded by trees on the edge of Esthwaite Water....

Like all YHA places - it was in need of some investment - but was clean and well-equipped and the staff were absolutely brilliant! It was just near enough to be convenient - but far enough away to be very very quiet. To the rear of the grounds was the very well- maintained Grizedale Forest (National Trust) with loads of cycle tracks and stuff (including the Go Ape! swinging from the trees thing.. No, me neither)

I met lots of interesting people - there was the French group, a few (brave) couples with very young babies some families and the Society of Change Ringers (!) from the University of Durham! On their annual tour of the Lakes (do they know they're born)?

We went for a very long walk to Howe Tarn, just outside Hawkshead (North West). This is also very well maintained and we walked for miles (about 12 altogether) to get there, but it was well worth it for the view from the top of the fell. And then, just as we stopped to take it all in, the cloud broke and the sun shone through! Wonderful!

We ate at the Kings Arms and the Sun Inn at Hawkshead - both very good (and cheap) pub grub (The Kings Arms was better, I think and excellent service too). There were a few other good places to choose from - we wished we had more time!

Nearby we spotted a good (but bloody expensive) camp site called the Croft - just on the edge of the village - so hopefully we'll be back soon. Not least because there's Trout fly fishing at Esthwaite to keep J occupied for hours...

below is the view from the front of the Yh - looking out over the Water.


This was taken in the evening after a very hot day's walking!

Above is the very well-maintained trail around Howe Tarn, near to Hawkshead. We were glad we persevered - we nearly didn't see it! It was well worth the effort!

More views of the Tarn...

Below the full view of the Youth Hostel. Wonderful building and great friendly staff. Brilliant breakfasts too!

....and it's friendly nearby cows - who must be fed-up of all the passing drunkards staggering back from the Hawkshead pubs...

Wonderful weather, glorious scenery, relaxing company - a really fantastic weekend ;)

Oh dear - over a month has passed since my last post. And I've visited lots of places from Egypt's Sharm El Sheikh (wonderful weather, great people, superb food - shame about the location).......

to the rural village of Wedmore (Somerset) (home to an annual beer festival) - where we stayed at the absolutely dreadful George Inn. Little did we know that it was a pub from hell, with ancient, dirty rooms, smelly loud resident dogs (with accompanying flies) and hopeless (if not well-meaning) staff. The only saving grace was the cold cider which was.....green ('nuff said).

As if that wasn't enough, the Sexey's Arms (the reason for our visit) turned out not to be in the actual village of Wedmore (as the guide said) but in the next village, Blackford about 2 miles away! Luckily the rain let up for long enough for us to walk there. Unluckily, we discovered to our horror that the pub is now under new ownership: the resident French chef and landlord had left. In his place were people who didn't know what they were doing at all (e.g. when we asked for another bottle of red it was served in our ice-bucket with a "there you go" passing comment)!! and served ham egg and chips as if it was some kind of speciality!! terrible service, horrible atmosphere (we were surrounded by Native American headgear - tat) and awful food. Michelin have already been sent an appropriate email!!

However - we did manage to find an excellent food shop in Cheddar called Lillypool Cheese and Cider. They stock that marvellous Colston Bassett stilton that we discovered on our Winteringham experience, and even have a camp-site near-by if you overdo the scrumpy tasting! Excellent!

The good news is I'm published (again)!!! In the Post-16 Educator.

Now, on with the final assignment...soon it will all be over for another academic year...

A Food Journey!

The BMW was dropped off on Friday evening – he was a very nice gentleman whose appearance might have led you to mistake him for Sherlock Holmes (minus the pipe). It was a lovely car, he said, and the fuel tank was brimming full. “Shame it’s not a 120” said J – never satisfied with anything with four wheels (unless it’s Porsche, that is). Actually, it was a 1.8 Diesel Sport - not brand new (about a year old). J said this was probably its last outing from before BMW sold it off to one of its dealers. At least it was going to have a nice send-off!

So, lets get the bit about the car done first: I was a bit put-off at first with all the “gizmos”. I couldn’t even start it and felt a right idiot. Apparently you have to put the “key” (by which I mean the bit of plastic) into the hole (why is it on the LEFT side of the steering wheel?), then, holding down the clutch pedal, push in the button (again on the left). There were no prompts on the dash to help you decipher this. Not very user-friendly. Do BMW really expect people to get the handbook out just to learn how to start the car? On the plus side, it handles very nicely – especially on the many winding country lanes of Lincolnshire. And it was very quiet on the motorway (although I desperately missed my Golf’s cruise-control (I know, I’m spoilt)). It has very “long legs” – i.e. I found the engine struggled not to labour doing 40mph in 6th gear so it was easy to forget about 6th and stay in the lower gears when driving around town. It’s strange that BMW gave the 118 6 gears when it didn’t really need them. I would have liked to have driven the 120 just to experience the difference and maybe a tiptronic gearbox would have been a better option (all at extra cost of course). I found the radio controls infuriating – too many buttons that were impossible to make sense of. And actually the sound quality was a bit crap! It was the same for other dashboard buttons e.g. the air con. Intrigued by the button called “Rest” (was this the button I could press to fall asleep at the wheel?) I looked it up in the handbook: this would allow warm air to circulate even when the ignition was off, for example when waiting at a railway crossing (!) Wow, can’t wait to use that function (not)! Although, admittedly in a freezing cold Germany, I can imagine it comes in very useful. The boot space is too small to be practical, J assures me the run-flat tyres did not allow the best handling performance and the overall fuel consumption was about 45mpg (about 10mpg less than my 1.9 Golf). In conclusion then – even if I could afford one of these – I think I’d pass – on this model at least…

Anyway, to continue with the interesting bit - the actual food experience (see below for an explanation), our first destination was the Abbey Parks Farm Shop at East Heckington. After a foggy drive up to Lincolnshire, we had a welcome cuppa and met the friendly and enthusiatic owners, Ros and Nick. They bought the farm a few years ago and now have an excellent reputation for their asparagus which does particularly well on the fertile, salty, sandy earth here. Nick runs a vegetable whole-sale business which delivers to famous chefs all over the country, including Ramsey’s Ivy, Jamie Oliver’s and the more local Langar Hall (which we were to visit for lunch the next day - see below). We had a really interesting tour of the farmland and filled our boot with veggies (including asparagus of course – but not local as it is too early) and a lovely bunch of local daffs (thanks Nick). Then it was off to next venue – the Cheese Society in Lincoln for lunch.

For those unfamiliar with Lincoln, it is a bit of a strange place to visit. Parts of it are architecturally amazing with lots of medieval houses and narrow cobbled streets dominated by the cathedral which sits high above the city. I suppose I’m being unfair in contrasting it to somewhere like Canterbury – its location means that economically Lincoln has a completely different atmosphere. The outskirts are very industrial. There are hundreds of charity shops and pound shops in the centre and the numbers of boarded-up shops and houses immediately brings you down to earth. Don’t get me wrong – it’s a lovely city and the high street was buzzing when we were there on a Saturday morning. We weren’t really surprised to find the Cheese Society hidden away in a side street. This is exactly the location that you find authentic, good value, contemporary eating places. We hadn’t booked a table and had to wait about half an hour – but we didn’t mind. Lots of other places in the town were empty – this was the place to be! Behind the tiny reception area was the shop and in contrast to the disadvantaged environment of the surrounding area we witnessed at least 4 people spending between £20-45 just on cheese during those few minutes. It was fascinating to watch the different tastings and the subsequent expressions! One thing that did strike us as odd – why not have a few bits of cheese for people to try while they were waiting? What a lost opportunity (or maybe they do offer something to waiting diners and we just missed it). Anyway, we sat in the little café area for a cheesy lunch. Everything is simple, cheap and functional: laminate floors; glasses from IKEA and metal framed bistro tables and chairs. It’s simply the cheese that draws people in – there is no view of the cathedral or fancy ambience here. I had a seafood and cheese on toast thingy: ‘Croque Marinara’ and J had a handmade burger (with cheese of course). All very nice. It was a shame we were driving really – there were lots of locals with bottles of wine (very reasonable prices) to go with theirs which made me kinda jealous - especially the couple who had dismissed the lunch menu in favour of (the enormous) cheeseboard for two. (Maybe this was a premonition of things to come ….)
Anyway, we had about £20 to spend at the cheese counter and after queuing-up again, we managed (as you can imagine) to spend it all- plus £1.50, (interestingly she didn’t let us off this) on a selection of local cheeses: Smoked Lincolnshire Poacher, Colston Bassett Stilton and Red Leicester etc. We spoke to the owner, who admitted that she did need bigger premises to cope with the numbers of customers – and was looking around. “It was difficult to anticipate the level of success they had enjoyed” she said.

Onwards and Northwards, next stop the Pink Pig Organic Farm towards the coast road. This place is really in the middle of nowhere (thank God for Sat Nat)! We got there about 4ish and there was only one other car in the car park. They closed at 5pm and the staff were all busy cleaning-up after what must’ve been a busy lunchtime service. Everyone was very friendly. All the usuals were on the blackboard (roasts and chillis) including lots of declarations about “all our eggs are free-range and organic” and “all our milk is local”. Through the glass doors is the deli shop with lots of meat and (more cheese) and honey and cakes and eggs and biscuits etc. etc. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the pigs as “they had gone to bed” (!) but we promised to return in the summer to see the farm trail in all its glory. The shop there is really inspiring and full of lovely things. We bought some sausages (of course) and some of their famous well-hung local beef.

Now the evening was drawing-in (it was the night the clocks went forward) and we headed-off for our final destination for the day – Winteringham Fields (see my previous entry, below).

The next morning, after (the small) breakfast, it was a clear day and we decided to drive the couple of miles to Barton to see the Humber before driving to our final food tour destination of Langar Hall in Langar, Nottinghamshire. We met some interesting people setting-out for a walk along the Viking Way (everyone is so friendly in this county), and discovered one lady whose sister coincidentally lives very near to us. After the usual “small world” comments (why does that always happen to us?) we took a drive around the area before heading out onto the main road in search of lunch.

Langar Hall is an unexpected place. We read about how the owner, Imogen, had taken reluctantly to being an hotelier in an attempt to maintain her aging mansion house. The house itself is striking in its Georgian style the exterior of which is brightly painted, reminiscent of Italy. It is right next to the village church and Langar itself is a very picturesque place with a pub and a few individual ancient houses, interspersed with modern ones. “Better put my jacket on” said J as we pulled into gravelled car park and saw the other (quality) cars, all with personalised number-plates and their glamorous, smartly-dressed owners. This place is obviously a well-kept secret for those in-the-know. We felt like we were entering a secret, private member-only club. But as soon as you walk into Langar Hall the atmosphere is relaxed, well-worn and homely. There are ten bedrooms at various places around the grounds and two dining rooms. There were lots of staff rushing around, all different nationalities. We were invited into the lounge area which led to the stylish new conservatory. It overlooks the beautiful, scenic land which surrounds the grand house. Like the interior, it all had a well-worn and un-maintained look about it and the resident sheep (Langar lamb on the menu) shared their field with strangely lifelike metal sculptures of ostriches and ducks. The Sommelier was reassuringly French – in fact you could tell that without him even speaking a word (if you know what I mean). Then suddenly Imogen herself appeared, rushing through the lounge rooms, grey hair flying around, carrying a warmed baby’s bottle and shouting in her upper-class accent “Where’s the baby? I’ve lost the baby”! The crazy scenes from Alice in Wonderland came to mind. The sommelier, with an air of weary frustration rolled his eyes and told her they were seated at the top table -but she smiled and immediately lost interest in her duty, using the excuse to introduce herself to the pre-dinner guests. You actually got the feeling this was a private house party and she was our host - a much-loved auntie. Dinner was wonderful, the menu is crammed with simple dishes made with local produce and the service was efficient (a little too efficient maybe?) and even the other guests were fascinating. For instance, to our left was a large young family that included the ‘lost’ baby. To our right was a table of young people: one Indian lady in full sari, one coloured guy and two other ladies; in the centre was a table of retired gentleman (blazers and ties) and beyond them three glamous, tall people dressed in jeans, furs, leathers and large sunglasses, who Imogen had great pleasure in explaining (with some pride) were famous transvestite models. You couldn’t imagine a more surreal dining room experience. But there was no uncomfortable atmosphere or whispers that you might expect at other venues like this. Imogen's eyes, within the faces of her ancestors, smiled down on the bizarre scene from the enormous, ancient oil portraits that surrounding us. This is a unique place where eccentricity (something Imogen has obviously become well-rehearsed in) is warmly welcomed, if not encouraged and this meant everyone felt very relaxed. This must be the secret to her success.

After lunch we had a stroll round the satisfyingly unkempt garden which included some (real) ducks on a semi-landscaped circular medieval 'pond' that represented a moat with a small wooden bridge. The sun was shining and this really is an unspoilt area with beautiful surrounding countryside. At the end of our East Midlands Food Tour, reluctantly we headed back home in our little BMW, with our little fridge full of goodies and lots of leaflets of places we would undoubtedly be visiting again. Langar Hall is definitely top of the list.

With many thanks to BMW's Good Food Ride guide and especially to Laura and the team at The Fish Can Sing for making all the arrangements and recommendations.