It's the cherry season and I love it.
Cherries remind me of my childhood: playing on my auntie's swing on the cherry tree; first the pink blossom arrives in spring, then the gathering of handsful of cherries in summer for tea time. My son used to hang the cherries by their stalks and have them dangling from his ears like earrings and my daughter likes to play the tinker, tailor game with the pips. I make clafoutis or eat them raw. I love the colour, the taste and what they stand for: summer and happy times. For once I don't look at air miles or check the provenance or the price: it's summer and I must have my cherries.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Friday, 12 June 2009
Another Dreary Country House Hotel
I was really looking forward to our weekend as we hadn't been away for a while and we both felt like a break. I had no idea where we were going and I didn't ask; I like that delicious anticipation of the unknown. From the outside, Rooks Hall is imposing. It's a tudor pile with later additions, with neatly clipped lawns, topiary, fountain and an impressive drive up to the front door.
It's the sort of place where one can play at being rich for the weekend. There were a few real wealthy people, judging by the cars in the car park, but most, I guess were like us, splashing out on an occasional treat. Our room was nothing special, but it was large and quiet as we had requested, looking out onto a cobbled courtyard.
The public rooms were wooden panelled and dotted with deliberately mismatched sofas and chairs and table lamps, so it did not have that corporate hotel feel to it. The highlight for me was the terrace with wisteria and jasmine, with far reaching views over open countryside.
And so on to the food. This is where we lose the plot in the UK. In France, the food would be fabulous but perhaps the surroundings might not be so grand. In India's best hotels, they have food to match. All the indicators are there to lull one into false security: crisp linen cloths, polished glasses, fancy cutlery and even an impressive wine list, but sadly, yet again, the food was disappointing. My starter was a variation on salad leaves with walnut and cheese. The chef had used trevissio, a type of Italian lettuce; for some reason he had grilled it but I failed to see the point as it was burnt. There was far too much blue cheese and the whole thing just seemed cack-handed. Our main was much better, which is not saying a great deal really. It was a steamed onion on a bed of buttered spinach with a wild mushroom sauce and was reasonably tasty. Pudding was a disappointment. I was brought the wrong one at first, so I had to wait a further fifteen minutes whilst they got the correct one. This was after the waitress had snapped at me about it not being her fault. When it came, the pasty was so hard I could not cut it with my spoon and half of it had spent too long in the oven and was black. I left it. Breakfast was similarly underwhelming. They got my order wrong and when it eventually did arrive, P had already eaten all his food.
I feel a theme developing here. Fabulous hotel, lovely gardens and rooms - poor food. And terribly, terribly old-fashioned, but not in a good way. Do we really need to push wooden trolleys around the dining room and carve/serve food at the table? Isn't that a bit passe these days, a bit Upstairs/Downstairs? We had a reduction on our bill for the bodged up breakfast and the burnt pudding, but I don't particularly want my food comped. It's not really rocket science is it, but in the UK I'm afraid perhaps it is. If you know of a decent hotel with good food, do let me know.
It's the sort of place where one can play at being rich for the weekend. There were a few real wealthy people, judging by the cars in the car park, but most, I guess were like us, splashing out on an occasional treat. Our room was nothing special, but it was large and quiet as we had requested, looking out onto a cobbled courtyard.
The public rooms were wooden panelled and dotted with deliberately mismatched sofas and chairs and table lamps, so it did not have that corporate hotel feel to it. The highlight for me was the terrace with wisteria and jasmine, with far reaching views over open countryside.
And so on to the food. This is where we lose the plot in the UK. In France, the food would be fabulous but perhaps the surroundings might not be so grand. In India's best hotels, they have food to match. All the indicators are there to lull one into false security: crisp linen cloths, polished glasses, fancy cutlery and even an impressive wine list, but sadly, yet again, the food was disappointing. My starter was a variation on salad leaves with walnut and cheese. The chef had used trevissio, a type of Italian lettuce; for some reason he had grilled it but I failed to see the point as it was burnt. There was far too much blue cheese and the whole thing just seemed cack-handed. Our main was much better, which is not saying a great deal really. It was a steamed onion on a bed of buttered spinach with a wild mushroom sauce and was reasonably tasty. Pudding was a disappointment. I was brought the wrong one at first, so I had to wait a further fifteen minutes whilst they got the correct one. This was after the waitress had snapped at me about it not being her fault. When it came, the pasty was so hard I could not cut it with my spoon and half of it had spent too long in the oven and was black. I left it. Breakfast was similarly underwhelming. They got my order wrong and when it eventually did arrive, P had already eaten all his food.
I feel a theme developing here. Fabulous hotel, lovely gardens and rooms - poor food. And terribly, terribly old-fashioned, but not in a good way. Do we really need to push wooden trolleys around the dining room and carve/serve food at the table? Isn't that a bit passe these days, a bit Upstairs/Downstairs? We had a reduction on our bill for the bodged up breakfast and the burnt pudding, but I don't particularly want my food comped. It's not really rocket science is it, but in the UK I'm afraid perhaps it is. If you know of a decent hotel with good food, do let me know.
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