Strikingly Pretty Villages and a Fine Wedding Anniversary Dinner
The Slaughters, Upper and Lower
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| Gloucestershire |
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| Cotswold District |
Like
Moreton-in-Marsh, the Slaughters, Upper and Lower, do not have encouraging names, but they are actually a pair of Cotswold gems, stretched out along the
little River Eye.
Upper Slaughter previously appeared in this blog in 2012 when we walked through Little Sodbury on the South West Odyssey. Little Sodbury is a ‘Thankful’ or ‘Blessed Village’, phrases coined in the 1930s for settlements that lost no servicemen in the First World War. A 2010 survey established that there were 54 civil parishes in England and Wales which were so ‘blessed’, three of them in Gloucestershire (none in Staffordshire). The only village in Gloucestershire to be ‘doubly blessed’ (i.e. 'blessed' in both World Wars) is Upper Slaughter – suggesting God has a macabre sense of humour.
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| Lynne in Lower Slaughter, a lovely village on a dire July day |
In fact, the name derives not from death,
destruction or abattoirs but from the Old English ‘Scolstre’ meaning a wet
place or slough. I attended a preparatory school in Slough from 1958 to 1963.
That much maligned town has changed a great deal since, but not then, not now,
nor at any time in between has it ever remotely resembled the Slaughters.
The Lords of the Manor, Upper Slaughter
Dating from
1649, the building that now houses the Lords of the Manor Hotel in Upper
Slaughter, was once much smaller. Unlike Chastleton House, its near contemporary, it has been frequently altered and extended, serving for a time
as a rectory and becoming a hotel in 1972. The restaurant was awarded a
Michelin star seven years ago and has retained it ever since. [The star was lost in 2019, though The Lords of the Manor still has 3 AA Rosettes. The struggle to win back the star continues but was not successful for 2020]
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| The Lords of the Manor, Upper Slaughter, The oldest part of the building |
Dinner at The Lords of the Manor
Aperitifs and Canapés
We checked
in, took a stroll, changed and arrived in the bar for aperitifs and canapés.
They make a good dry martini, though not as good as the Sheraton in Hong Kong, though that may be impossible; my memory has enshrined that drink as the
Platonic Ideal dry martini of which all others are inferior copies. After the unfortunate
‘drowning of the gin’ at our last wedding anniversary meal, Lynne was pleased
that they left her to pour her tonic herself.
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| Our room, Lords of the Manor, Upper Slaughter |
Canapés involved
a mini-egg sized ball of smoked fish, which was good, a petite cylinder of paté
shot through with hazelnut, surmounted by a little crisp disc and a nut, which
was excellent, and a tiny chicken manifestation - I wish I could be more
precise - which was spectacular.
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| The Lords of the Manor, Upper Slaughter, the modest original building has grown into this. On another day we could have enjoyed our pre-dinner drinks outside, but even July cannot be trusted |
We moved
through to the restaurant, a newer wing at the back of the building.
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| Lords of the Manor, Upper Slaughter, the restaurant is in the extension on the left hand corner of the photo |
Amuse-Bouche and Crab Starters
A tiny bowl
of mushroom soup arrived - there was more to it than that, the well-informed
waiter talked us through the details, but his accent was thick and I thought he mentioned peanuts. The mushroom
flavour was intense, the texture warm and tongue-coating, and there did seem to
be a peanut lurking in the depths, but exactly what it brought to the party was
unclear.
Choosing
from the five starters (two of which involved duck liver, not maybe as a main
ingredient, but surely punching above its weight) we both selected crab. Professional
restaurant critics don't do that, but I am only a blogger writing about a meal
I paid for myself, and as we both fancied crab, we both had crab.
I last ate crab in a self-styled gastropub on the borders of Lancashire and Cumbria; it was utterly tasteless. The first nibble of the white meat of this Cornish crab was a revelation; it was fresh, it was clean, it was crabby (in a good way) and it tasted of the sea, a flavour echoed in the oyster cream. This was as good as crab gets. The tasty brown meat came in crisp little tubes which might once have been potato. Oscietra caviar sat on blobs of very different potato, a single fish egg on each of the four blobs. Oscietra retails at about £80 for 50 grams, at that price there should be enough on the plate to taste it, this was just wasted.
We drank the recommended wine, an Alsace Pinot Blanc. A smidgen off dry, with crisp, fragrant fruit, it was a fine partner to the crab. {David seems to have drawn the short straw here. Yes, there was very little caviar, but mine had several fish eggs on the blobs and I gathered them all up to eat together. Excellent, if miniscule. Lynne}
Mains of Pork and Guinea Fowl
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| Main course menu, Lords of the manor, Upper Slaughter |
From the
five choices of main course Lynne had guinea fowl, while I selected pork. I was
disappointed when the food arrived. The guinea fowl involved sizeable slabs of
meat and a little pile of vegetables but beside it my pork looked meagre, small
islands of food adrift on a vast dark plate. I was unlikely to go hungry, but
the disparity between the two plates struck a discordant note.
The two
roundels of pork fillet were tender, with just enough texture and a
delicate porky flavour. They sat on the sole vegetable, a couple of leaves of
wilted spinach. The single cuboid of belly pork was much more gutsy, something
to chew and crunch. The menu promised black pudding but I did not recognize
that it in the little frustum of black jelly. The boudin, though, was in
a different class, in fact the best thing on the plate; despite looking like a
cocktail sausage it had a beguiling porky scent and a flavour which somehow
contained the taste and soul of France. The smear of pork jus was just that -
if there is going to be a sauce, let's have a sauce. Overall it was a plate
with some delights, but disappointments too.
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| The Old Mill, Lower Slaughter |
The
recommended Loire Valley Malbec (isn't Malbec known as Côt on the Loire?) was
well chosen; a lightish red, but well-built and full of fruit. It was not,
though, half as good as the outstanding Austrian St Laurent that accompanied
Lynne's guinea fowl. I have only come across this grape once before and that
was a long time ago - I wish I had seen more of it.
Lynne had a
good slab of breast meat, perfectly cooked and well flavoured, but it was the ‘croustillant
of leg’ that was memorable, with a satisfying crunch and a rich confit flavour.
Lynne, too, had a leaf of wilted spinach, but she also had some leek, the sort
of baby turnips that made you realise why all Baldrick wanted was a little
turnip of his own, and girolle mushrooms, the size and shape of the plastic
studs used to cover the screws in flat-pack furniture but so full of themselves
they demanded to be noticed.
Pre-Dessert, Dessert and Cheese
The
pre-dessert was a thick glass bowl with a pleasant panna cotta at the bottom covered
with orange-coloured granules. Mango and coconut were mentioned by the waiter,
he may have mentioned freeze drying as well, though even after four courses I
was no better attuned to his accent.
The
strongly flavoured tiny 'micro-coriander' was probably unnecessary, but the
sharp, tangy mango lingered on the tongue, and as it faded the flavour of
toasted coconut kicked in. Mango and coconut are among my favourite foods and
these strong flavours were just what I love. ‘I don't like that,’ said Lynne
putting down her spoon. I thought she was referring to the coriander, which she
dislikes, but then she said, 'The mango is too sharp for me.' ‘What a shame,’ I
said, and ate hers too.
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| The village defibrillator, Upper Slaughter. Finding a use for a redundant red phone box. |
The smallish
pork course had the happy by-product of leaving space for cheese. I so often only
have room for a dessert that slips down easily, but I had clocked the cheese
trolley on the way in and judged it worthy of further examination.
Despite
being over-faced last year by the cloying richness of the chocolate option at
the Harrow in Little Bedwyn, Lynne backed hope over experience and chose chocolate again. If anything the Lords of the Manor erred in the other
direction, but she was well pleased with her generous brick of white chocolate
mousse, teamed with blobs of lavender cream, violet jelly and gold sprinkled
raspberries.
On closer
inspection the cheese trolley was as fine as I had thought, and made better by
all the cheeses coming from Britain or Ireland. I have nothing against French
cheeses – quite the opposite - but it is pleasing to know that the reborn craft
cheese-making of these islands now produces the quality and variety to stock a
first rate cheese trolley.
I chose
four cheeses, the first two involving more than a nod towards France. Brie is a
much abused word; most supermarket Brie is dull, under-ripe, factory produced
and unworthy of the name. I avoid ‘Somerset Brie’, because if the manufacturers
of France have forgotten how to make it, I doubt a factory in Somerset would be
any more successful. I knew at first glance, however, that Simon Weaver's
Brie-style cheese was something else. Startlingly white it oozed gently and the
rind was cracked like ripe Brie de Meaux (a reliable name amid all the dross).
Misshapen and slightly flattened this was no factory cheese - in fact it is
made on Kirkham Farm in Lower Slaughter, solely from organic milk produced on
the farm. It is also made from unpasteurised milk (and I don't know a really fine
cheese that isn't). The French like to use the word ‘onctueux’ to describe such
a cheese - it sound so much better than 'unctuous'. This was the most onctueux
cheese it had been my privilege to eat for a long time.
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| Simon Weaver Brie |
Isle of
Avalon, confusingly made in Surrey, is based on the recipe for Port Salut - the
favourite French cheese of people who do not like French cheeses. All the rind
washing and extra maturing this was subjected to certainly improved it, but it
never got far enough away from Port Salut for my taste.
The third
cheese, a softish ewe's milk cheese with a slightly crumbly texture, was
pleasant without being exciting, but my fourth choice took me back to the
heights. Admiral Collingwood is a semi-soft cheese made from unpasteurized milk
by Doddington Dairy in Northumberland. It is matured for seven months and the rind is washed in
Newcastle Brown Ale. I used to drink Newky Brown in my youth, but gave it up long
ago, now I have found the perfect use for it. It is claimed to give the cheese
a unique tangy aftertaste - it does and it is wonderful.
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| Admiral Collingwood, Doddington Dairy, Northumberland |
Back in the
comfy seats in the bar we had a so-so cup of coffee, petit fours - nicely made
sweeties - and an excellent glass of Calvados. And so ended this year's wedding
anniversary dinner, and a fine dinner it had been, too. It was expensive, as
such meals are, but then this is Michelin starred cooking and the high points
were high indeed – as they should be at this level. There were a couple of
disappointments too, as we have learnt to expect at one Michelin star level -
there are two and even (should I ever be able to afford it) three star levels
above this.
27/07/2015
Breakfast
Restaurants
do not win Michelin stars for their breakfasts, but it is interesting to see
what they do. Cereals are just cereals, but the fruit juices were fresh. Lynne
had fried eggs, two of them cooked in a neat and tidy ring in butter, she
prefers oil but that is a matter of taste. My scrambled egg was excellent,
though not quite up to the standard of the Yorke Arms in Ramsgill (though that
is beginning to take on the same mythical stature as the Hong Kong Sheraton
martini). The mushroom - (half?!) a large field mushroom this time - had almost as much
power as the girolles, and the bacon was of the quality you should expect in
such an establishment. I hoped the black pudding would make up for one of
yesterday's disappointments but although this time it was a proper slice, it had
too much cereal and not enough blood and spice - I suppose that is what you get
for eating black pudding this far south.
Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree(2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)
The Cross, Kenilworth (& Kenilworth Castle) 2024
