Showing posts with label UK-Wales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-Wales. Show all posts

Tuesday 6 September 2022

Newtown, Powys

The Birthplace of one of the 19th Century's Greatest Social Reformers

Newtown? Where and Why


Wales
Powys
Lynne chose Newtown as the destination for her birthday sojourn. It was not an obvious choice, but there was a reason.

During the years our daughter spent at Aberystwyth University we travelled regularly from North Staffs to the Welsh coast. Crossing the border near Welshpool we either took a northerly route through Mallwyd and Machynlleth or tacked south through Newtown and Llangurig. Either way the 100-mile journey took around 3 hours, the roads are narrow and there was a good chance of finding yourself in a queue behind a tractor winding its noisy way through the quiet hills of Mid-Wales while flicking gobbets of mud and cow dung at is unwilling followers.

Mid-Wales
Shrewsbury is 35 miles from home, Newtown is another 35 miles southwest

‘I have driven through Newtown many times, and never stopped there,’ she said, ‘so I would like to visit for my birthday.’ ‘There might be a reason no one stops,’ I thought, making a token show of resistance before meekly acquiescing.

Wales

Newtown is the largest town in Powys, Wales largest county. That almost makes it sound important, but although Powys covers a remarkable 25% of the Welsh landmass, it has only 3% of the population. Newton has some 11,000 citizens, twice as many as Llandrindod Wells, the administrative centre, and ten times more than Montgomery, the other Powys town I have ‘honoured’ with a blog post.

Its name does the town no favours and is hardly unique; Wikipedia lists another 80 Newtowns (and almost as many Newtons) across the Anglosphere. In England it prompts memories, for those old enough, of the ‘challenging’ Newtown in ‘Z Cars’ or comparison with real new towns, like Telford or Milton Keynes with a reputation for many thousands of identikit 1970s dwellings and concrete brutalist centres. Actually, I like Milton Keynes, I find it well planned and user friendly, but it does have an (unwarranted) reputation

Newtown, Powys, is not like that. It may have undergone relatively recent expansion, but it is a surprisingly old new town.

Castell Dolforwyn and the Origins of Y Drenewydd (The New Town)

The A483 follows the Severn Valley southwest from Welshpool. 5 miles before Newtown a sign to Dolforwyn Castle points to a narrow side road climbing diagonally across the hillside almost parallel to the main road below. After a mile, opposite a small parking area, a footpath strikes up the hillside towards the castle.

The path up to Dolforwyn Castle
There is nothing Lynne enjoys more than a steady climb

Working its way round the end of the hill, it turns towards the summit and suddenly you are surrounded by old stonework. This area, just outside the gate, was once occupied by the village that grew up to service the castle

Dolforwyn Castle entrance

To assert his claim to be the most important among the Welsh rulers/warlords/princes, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, Prince of Gwynedd needed a presence in the strategically important Severn Valley. His successful invasion of 1257 and subsequent consolidation led to the Treaty of Montgomery (September 1267) where Henry III recognised him as the Prince of Wales. To confirm his control Llywelyn constructed a castle at Dolforwyn between 1273 and 1277.

The side of Dolforwyn Castle overlooking the Severn Valley is the remains of Llywelyn's stone work
Edward I

Unfortunately for him Henry III had died in 1272 and his son and successor Edward I was less tolerant of upstart princelings on his borders, particularly those who built a castle without his permission. Construction had hardly finished when Roger Mortimer and Henry de Lacy arrived from Montgomery with an army and laid siege.

After removing the villagers, they sat down and waited until the defenders ran out of water and the siege ended.

Roger Mortimer largely rebuilt the castle, remembering to include a well in case of another siege. Dolforwyn remained in Mortimer hands for three generations before it was abandoned. By 1398 it was described as "ruinous and worth nothing." It is now in the safe hands of Cadw, the Welsh Government’s historic environment service.

The side of the castle most rebuilt by Mortimer - including the well

Edward I had his faults, but he ensured the lands he grabbed were well governed. Driving the native Welsh princes from the Severn Valley pacified the borders and the castle’s displaced villagers felt confident enough to move down to the flatter land beside the river. Three miles from Dolforwyn they built Y Drenewydd (The New Town) or simple Newtown beside the River Severn.

Robert Owen

The Statue

Walking from the large car park beside the Severn towards the bustling town centre we passed a statue of Robert Owen, Newtown's favourite son. Designed by Gilbert Bayes and erected in 1956 this rather sentimental statue of the Newtown-born industrialist and social reformer, stands in the tiny Robert Owen Memorial Garden.

Robert Owen (1771-1858)

Birthplace and Museum

Central Newtown has sufficient self-important buildings to ensure the town is not mistaken for an over-grown village. The HSBC building is a typical HSBC design, cut down to fit the corner plot, once occupied by Robert Owen’s birthplace.

HSBC, Newtown, on the site of Robert Owen's birthplace

The Cross Building on the junction of Broad and High Streets, was built to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897. It was financed by Sarah Brisco of the Pryce family (of whom more later) who donated the clock to the people of Newtown in 1900. [Update: Barclays Bank were tenants from the start. They closed this branch just weeks after our visit].

The Cross Building, Newtown

Across Severn Street is Sarah Brisco House and the Robert Owen Memorial Museum.

Robert Owen Memorial Museum, Newtown

Born in 1771, Robert Owen had little formal education but was a voracious reader. Leaving school aged ten, he was apprenticed to a Lincolnshire draper and by the age of 23 was a partner in a Manchester mill.

Robert Owen's birthplace may have gone, but the museum preserves the doorknocker!

In the early 1790s he started thinking more about how workers were treated, developing progressive moral views.

Robert Owen

In the late 1790s he met David Dale, a Scottish entrepreneur and philanthropist, and the builder of the New Lanark mills in southern Scotland. We visited New Lanark, now a UNESCO World Heritage site) in 2021 (click here.) In 1799 he married Dale’s daughter and in 1800 took over New Lanark. Dale had been considered a model employer, but Owen went much further, putting limits on the hours and ages of child workers and ensuring they received an education. He introduced a standard eight-hour day and lobbied to have his reforms put into law. Prime Minister Robert Peel sympathised, but his ideas were too radical for the time.

Robert Owen and his reforms

Despite (or because of) the way he treated his workers he made a great deal of money. He sold New Lanark in 1825 and although his subsequent projects met with less success, his contributions to the founding of the cooperative movement and to trade unionism were of great importance. He was a visionary and a man ahead of his time.

St Mary’s Church, Robert Owen’s Grave and More

Although he lived most of his life in Scotland and England, Owen returned to Newtown at the end of his life and died here in November 1857. Despite declaring himself an atheist in 1817 and becoming a spiritualist in his 80s he was buried at St Mary’s Church a short walk from the museum.

Robert Owen's grave, St Mary's Church, Newtown

Nearby a plaque commemorates Thomas Powell, a chartist leader born in Newtown in 1802. Described as a ‘disciple of Robert Owen’ and ‘a fighter for political rights and equality’, he was imprisoned for his trouble in 1839-40. He died in Trinidad in 1862.

Thomas Powell's plaque, St Mary's Newtown

The Charter from which the Chartists took their name demanded six radical reforms:

1) A vote for every man aged twenty-one years and over.
2) A secret ballot.
3) No property qualification for Members of Parliament (MPs).
4) Payment of MPs enabling persons of modest means to become MPs.
5) Equal constituencies.
6) Annual Parliamentary elections.

Chartism was at its peak 1839-48 but faded away thereafter. All their outlandish demands were eventually met except No. 6 which still sounds outlandish.

St Mary’s Church served Newtown for 500 years, but being beside the river, flooding was a continual problem. Eventually, a new church was built and St Mary’s was abandoned in 1850. It is now a ruin, but has been stabilised.

St Mary's, Newtown

From St Mary's to the Textile Museum

Beside the Severn

Newtown’s textile museum was a 250m walk away. We set off from St Mary’s strolling along the bank of the Severn. The River Severn, shared between Wales and England, is Great Britain’s longest river, but at Newtown it is little more than a stream, being barely 30km (18 miles) into its 354km (220 mile) journey to the Bristol Channel.

Beside the Severn, Newtown

The Long Bridge

We crossed the river on the Long Bridge. A wooden bridge was built on this site in the 15th century and maintained by bequests in the wills of Newtown’s leading citizens. It survived the great flood of 1795 and was still in use, though somewhat rickety, in the early 19th century.

Long Bridge over the Severn, Newtown

In 1820, maintenance of roads and bridges became the responsibility of the County and the present bridge was constructed. It was barely adequate for the traffic of the mid-19th century and is even less adequate now – signs declare its feebleness in two languages. Drivers of heavy vehicles will be relieved that there is a modern bridge a short distance downstream.

Long Bridge, Newtown in 1880

The photo above was taken from the bridge looking past where I was standing. Newtown, give or take a line of parked cars and some signs, is still recognisable. The photo was borrowed from CountyTimes.co.uk and is part of the Powys Digital History Project.

A Scary Road Sign

Whether it is a 'Weak Bridge' or a 'Pont Wan', this long exiled, monolingual anglophone Welshman applauds the efforts made to keep the ancient language alive and well. Monolingual as I may be, I was brought up, mainly in England, by Welsh parents, and Lynne is Welsh, so I generally approach place names with reasonable confidence. I am unfazed by Llanelli (where Lynne was born), Ystradgynlais, Tonyrefail, or Machynlleth but the sign just over the bridge gave me pause for thought.

Scary sign, Newtown

Bilingual signage is inevitably asymmetric; all towns and villages have Welsh name (though some have been invented quite recently) but many places have never had an English name. Bettws Cedewain is no problem, ‘w’ is a vowel (sometimes) and ‘Bettws’ is pronounced ‘Bettus’ (simples!) but at first glance Llanllwchaearn appears to have six consecutive consonants followed by three consecutive vowels. By breaking it down into 3 syllables, remembering ‘w’ is a vowel, not sweating the terminal vowels - and pronouncing ‘ll’ as a voiceless lateral fricative (and we all know what one of those is) I triumphed-ish.

Newtown Textile Museum

Newtown’s Textile Museum occupies a weaving factory built in the 1830s. The lower storeys consist of three pairs of back-to-back weaver’s cottages. The upper storeys, were used for weaving, the large windows giving light to operate the hand-looms.

Newtown Textile Museum is the 4-storey red-brick building
Weavers' workshop, Manchester

There were many such factories here in the 19th century. Newtown was a weaving town, so Robert Owen’s switch from being a draper to manging mills seemed quite natural and the few surviving weaving factories in Manchester are similar in design. In Manchester and Lanark Owen was weaving cotton from the Americas, in Newtown it was locally sourced wool.

The lower floors give an idea of the basic, and rather cramped living conditions of the workers and their (often large) families…

…where women could earn money by spinning…

Weaver's cottage, Newtown Textile Musuem

…for the looms above.

Looms, Newtown Textile Musuem

There are also education facilities for guiding school parties through the whole process from sheep to cloth.

The top floor has the workshops of other forgotten occupations. There is a clog maker’s…

Clog makers, Newtown textile Museum

…and a draper’s shop, or is it a haberdasher? I looked them up. Draper: A person who sells textiles. Haberdasher: one who sells, needles, thread, buttons etc. (North American usages are different).

Drapers or Haberdashers? Newtown textile Museum

I am generally wary of textile museums. Across the world people are keen for us to watch them weaving, and even keener for us to buying something. Unfortunately, I have little interest in textiles, but they are often poor people, so we buy a gift for someone who doesn’t really want it. Newtown Textile Museum is not like that, it brings to life a period of the town’s history and is well worth a visit.

Newtown and the World of Retail

Sir Pryce Pryce-Jones

Pryce Jones was born near Newtown in 1834 and apprenticed to a local draper in 1845. He took over the business in 1856 and then started a new company under his own name, dealing in Welsh flannel. With an established national postal system and the arrival of the railway, he was able to set up a mail order business in Newtown, that not only numbered Florence Nightingale and Queen Victoria among its customers, but eventually shipped Welsh flannel across Europe and to America and Australia. In 1879 he built the Royal Welsh Warehouse which still stands next to the station. He became MP for Montgomery in 1885 and was knighted two years later as Sir Pryce Pryce-Jones. Apart from being the Jeff Bezos of Mid-Wales, in 1876 he patented the ‘Euklisia Rug’, the world’s very first sleeping-bag.

The Royal Welsh Warehouse, Newtown

Laura Ashley

Laura Ashley, whose designs are invariably described as ‘quintessentially English’ was actually Welsh. With husband Bernard Ashley she opened their first shop in Machynlleth in 1961 and built their first factory in Newtown. Then from Newtown to the world.

Dinner in Newtown on a Tuesday

Google maps suggests Newtown is replete with restaurants, but eliminating cafés, coffee shops and takeaways greatly reduces the possibilities for a drink and a sit-down dinner. On further investigation the remaining establishments were largely ‘closed: next open, Thursday 7 pm’.

One Italian restaurant was, apparently, open. After walking right across central Newtown (a short hike!) we found it too locked and unlit. Wandering around, we found several drinking-only pubs – once the norm, but no longer elsewhere – multiple takeaways but no restaurants. One pub sported a somewhat unappealing menu outside. We entered. It was large and not particularly crowded, but most unoccupied tables were piled with uncleared dirty dishes. We exited.

We hovered outside an Indian restaurant, but it appeared to lack a licence, and Lynne deserved a drink on her birthday. We popped into a Spar convenience store and purchased a bottle of Rioja, intending to pick up a takeaway and return to our B&B. Setting off on our quest, the proprietor had said we would be welcome to eat in the breakfast room and use their plates and cutlery. It had seemed an odd speech at the time, now we understood.

Fish King Souvlaki

Fish King is a chip shop, but we had seen has some positive comments about its Greek food on TripAdvisor.

Fish King the following morning with friendly proprietor toting a broom

By 7.45 the fish’n’chip rush had gone and the proprietor was happy to run us through his Greek options. We ordered a chicken souvlaki and fried chicken (the choice was chicken or chicken). Returning to the B&B felt like a defeat, it was too cold for the outside tables but he had one inside table. Sitting in splendour in the corner of a chip shop, we ate our chicken, drank our wine from borrowed mugs and provided a talking point for later customer.

Dining in Newtown's exclusive Fish King

It was wholesome, reasonably priced, and had some genuine Greek flavours. Being a chip shop, our meal came with pita bread and chips; the younger me would have eaten it all, but maturity means I  cannot manage so much carbohydrate so I left most of the chips. I had assumed the proprietor was a Greek Cypriot - there are many in the Fish and Chip trade - but he was actually Romanian and had learned to cook during a ten-year spell in Cyprus. An affable young man with a gift for languages and an entrepreneurial spirit, he deserves to do well.

In Conclusion

Despite initial misgivings there is plenty in and around Newtown to fill a day, and the people we met were all very pleasant. Do go and visit, but if you don’t fancy eating in the corner of a chip shop, go at the weekend.

Saturday 7 September 2019

Puzzlewood and The Kymin: Forest of Dean Part 3

An Unusual Wood and a Gentleman's Picnic House Above the River Wye

Puzzlewood


Gloucestershire
Forest of Dean
We had intended to visit Puzzlewood yesterday, but missed the sign and went on to the Clearwell Caves. That could have been that, but we were in no particular rush to get home today, and when we talked to our daughter last night, she brought up Puzzlewood and strongly recommended we go. So we did.

The owners are developing Puzzlewood as a family attraction, but we felt we could ignore the play area and the farm animals, though I could not resist a photo of a chicken – a silkie, I believe, originally a native of China.

A silkie at Puzzlewood

The wood itself is a remarkable landscape; a confusion of boulders, trees and twisted roots, covered with a rain-forest thick layer of moss. We followed the forest paths, which divided and then looped back on themselves and then divided again.

Puzzlewood

Navigation was a minor puzzle and there are no maps but the fields on the far side are only 300m away, and if we walked further than that to get there, we were usually going in the right direction.

Puzzlewood and a 'rickety bridge'

There are fairy doors, and rickety bridges (though more firmly constructed than they are made to look)  and places to pause and access the Puzzlewood app – provided your phone (unlike ours) has the right operating system - but what makes the landscape unique to the Forest of Dean and unusual even within it are the scowles.

Scowle, Puzzlewood

Scowles are labyrinthine defiles several metres deep, though in many places the sides have been eroded into discrete blocks of stone.

An eroded scowle

Long thought to be the remnants of iron-age open-cast iron ore extraction, geologist now believe them to be natural features, though enlarged and exploited by mining activity.

A Gloucester County Council archaeological information sheet entitled The Scowles of the Forest of Dean suggests the present view is that they originated as a natural underground cave system which formed in the Carboniferous Limestones of the Forest of Dean many millions of years ago. Uplift and erosion eventually caused this cave system to become exposed at the surface. The exposed caves were rich in iron ore were easy pickings for the earliest miners and their work and further erosion produced the landscape we see today.

Lynne plods up through another scowle

Our daughter had been right, Puzzlewood is well worth a visit and we spent over an hour wandering round in the wood. Returning to the café we drank cappuccinos (cappuccini?) beneath a sizeable sword. Looking closer, I learned that it was made of Valyrian steel and was formerly the property of Eddard Stark.

The Valyrian steel sword known as Ice wielded by Eddard Stark (allegedly)

I am not aware of Puzzlewood being a location in Game of Thrones, but it does feature in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, four separate episodes of Dr Who, two episodes of Merlin and the BBC’s 2016 adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. JRR Tolkien was a frequent visitor and used the wood as a template for some of Middle Earth’s Forests, and maybe Harry Potter’s ‘Forbidden Forest’ is also a relative.

The Kymin


Monmouthshire
It was time to leave the Forest of Dean so we headed west towards Monmouth which lies beside the River Wye and – more importantly to us – the A40.

We were still a mile or two short of Monmouth when we passed a Croeso i Gymru sign; we had entered our ancestral homeland but were still east of the Wye. I had always believed the border ran along the River Monnow to its confluence with the Wye and then down the Wye to the coast, but not so - for reasons known only to long dead cartographers there is a fun-sized chunk of Wales on the wrong side of the Wye opposite Monmouth.

Always a welcome sight to the exile

Having left the Forest of Dean, in political fact if not quite in spirit, we turned off the main road, following the National Trust signs to The Kymin. The road, narrow with the occassional hairpin, climbed steadily from the Wye Valley to a viewpoint 250m above the river.

In the late 18th /early 19th centuries "the principal Gentlemen of Monmouth and its vicinity" formed the Monmouth Picnic Club or Kymin Club (from the Welsh Cae y Maen – Field of Stones) "for the purpose of dining together, and spending the day in a social and friendly manner". Everyone enjoys a picnic in good weather, but the Monmouthshire weather gods are a fickle bunch, so Philip Meakins Hardwick suggested building a roundhouse for "security from the inclemency of the weather". The members, headed by the Duke of Beaufort and 8 MPs paid subscriptions and building started in 1794.

The Kymin

The Kymin, as it became known, had kitchens on the ground-floor and a banqueting room above. The view is spectacular and the banqueting room was – and still is - equipped with a telescope. In time the club ran out of steam and eventually the building became a dwelling. That ceased in the early 20th century when the roundhouse was restored and duly found its way into the care of the National Trust.

Banqueting Room, The Kymin

The view is variously said to encompass nine or ten counties. Monmouth is a long way down beside the river and a great deal of effort would be required to drag a picnic/banquet all this way. I doubt that troubled the members, they had servants for that sort of thing and all they had to do was trot up on their nags – a little more effort than my driving up, but they could park closer to the house.

Monmouth and the Wye Valley from the Kymin

The Naval Temple

In 1800, to commemorate the second anniversary of Nelson’s victory at the Battle of the Nile and in recognition of the victories of fifteen other Royal Navy Admirals, the Kymin Club built The Naval Temple.

Tne Naval Temple, The Kymin

This was the early days of tourism; the Wye Valley was prime tourist country and Nelson himself came floating down the river with Lady Hamilton and her husband Sir William Hamilton (as a prize gooseberry). Nelson was greeted by a cannonade and the band of the Monmouthshire Militia playing See, the Conquering Hero Comes (they don’t do that for tourists these days, or was it just me?). During his brief stay in Monmouth, Nelson breakfasted at the roundhouse and visited the Naval Temple of which he said "it was the only monument of its kind erected to the Royal Navy in the Kingdom," which was diplomatic. Others have been more forthright, ‘In very bad taste,’ said antiquarian, archaeologist and artist Sir Richard Colt Hoare in 1803 while architectural historian John Newman has described it as ‘hard to come to terms with.’ And this retired maths teacher and artistic ignoramus agrees with Hoare and Newman - and no doubt he will find that a great relief.

Naval Temple, The Kymin

[Afterthought: November 2019] Being in Wales all the signs were bilingual. It might be worth mentioning that Welsh was the main language of the Forest of Dean until the 9th century, ‘scowles’ probably deriving from the Welsh ‘ysgil’ meaning ‘a recess’. If the English electorate support Boris Johnson’s plan to break up the United Kingdom, then Wales will probably cling on to England like Montenegro clung to Serbia, but in the end it will go. And then maybe we will want our forest back.

And so we left the Kymin and headed home.

Forest of Dean

Friday 27 July 2018

Friday Night at Tyddyn Llan

The 'Gourmet Friday' 7-Course Tasting Menu at a Michelin Starred Restaurant

Llandrillo and Tyddyn Llan

Wales
Denbighshire

Leaving Anglesey we headed south-east on the A5 through Snowdonia and Betws-y-Coed to Corwen, the fine weather hanging on despite the morning's ominous signs. Near Corwen we turned south on the B4401 to Llandrillo, a small village deep in the green Denbighshire countryside near the banks of the River Dee. Llandrillo is named for Saint Trillo, a 6th century abbot of renowned holiness and a serial church founder.

North Wales (copyright OneworldMaps.com)
I have added the approximated position of Llandrillo south-west of Corwen

Tyddyn Llan is a few hundred metres beyond the village. Set in extensive gardens, it was built in the 18th century as a shooting lodge for the Duke of Westminster. Much enlarged in the 19th century it became the home of Llandrillo’s vicar when perhaps it gained its name which roughly translates as ‘Glebe House.’ Despite further enlargements at both ends of the 20th century it is a Grade II Listed Building described as a fine gentry house with C18 origins and good early-C19 character. As we arrived the heat wave and drought unequivocally came to an end. With no intention of standing around in a torrential downpour, I have no picture of my own.

Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo
The picture is by Bryan Webb and has been borrowed from the Tyddyn Llan website (with thanks and apologies)

After learning his craft at The Crown in Whitebrook and Drangway in Swansea, Crumlin-born Bryan Webb left Wales in 1983, to hone his skills in Scotland and then London. He returned in 2002 setting up Tyddyn Llan with his wife Susan – who works front of house – as a restaurant with rooms. In 2010 it was the fourth restaurant in Wales to gain a Michelin star (there are now seven) and has held it ever since.[Update: Tyddyn Llan lost its Michelin star in Oct 2019. No one knows why.]

Bryan Webb on the cover of his latest book

Checking in was complicated by the Welsh National Surname Shortage. Two other couples with our surname had booked for that evening, the two men had the same first name and one of them was married to another Lynne. The confusion resulted in an upgrade of our room, but such is life; we coped.

Friday Gourmet Night

We had booked the Friday Gourmet Night 7-course Tasting menu. I have shuddered at the word ‘gourmet’ since we lived in the US in the early 80s and were bombarded with television adverts by a certain Orville Redenbacher flogging his eponymous ‘Gourmet Popping Corn’. Gourmet - befitting a connoisseur of good food and wines - should descibe every dish served at a restaurant of this standard (whether the customers are gourmets or not), but never ever popcorn. I might wince at the wording but once we had settled in the lounge and were presented with the menu I found my lexical discomfort easy to ignore.

The day's 7-course tasting menu - the delights to come

Aperitif and Canapées

Our deal included a half bottle of champagne. Some places might fob you off with cava, I expected an anonymous champagne, we got Louis Roederer. It may not have been Louis Roederer Cristal, that would have been too much to hope for, but it was still a fine Champagne - a pleasurable wine, deliciously smooth and mature as the makers modestly describe it.

Louis Roederer Brut - good stuff!

‘Canapés’ appears on the menus, but not as one of the seven courses (I counted!). Generally, I think salmon is overrated, but this mouthful of soft salmon mousse wrapped in raw salmon was a delightful combination of textures and complimented the champagne like they were made for each other. A quail’s egg is just an egg, albeit a small one, top quality sausage meat is still just sausage meat, so the tiny scotch egg was just a scotch egg. The leek and laverbread tart – what else to eat in Wales - was a marvel, two potentially competing strong flavours in total harmony. I was less impressed with the fish cake, nicely crisp outside, luxuriously soft inside but just lacking in something, I would have liked a little more dill (or was it fennel?)

We moved through to the dining room.

Course 1: Gazpacho

Lynne is usually dismissive of Gazpacho – take it away and warm it up, being her usual unoriginal comment. This gazpacho was a game changer, almost. Thick and smooth yet with a crunch of cucumber and slight spiciness, the fresh Mediterranean flavours won me over completely, and I think Lynne was beginning to bend.

Course 2: Langoustine

The dish did not look special, hidden beneath fronds of rocket but the langoustines were perfectly cooked and so fresh they were sweet, the avocado was a richly smooth guacamole, the dressing set everything off perfectly and the fennel, a soft, folded strip of vegetable lying beneath the langoustine adding delicious aniseed notes. I have not eaten anything so good for ages - though I doubt I would have missed the slice of radish had it been absent.

Dressed Langoustine, Tyddyn Llan

The first of the matched wines was Domaine de Gerbeaux, Mâcon Soloutré. An unoaked chardonnay, refreshingly citrusy with ripeness balancing its bright acidity. It was a fine accompaniment.

Course 3: Stuffed Courgette Flower

After the delights of the langoustine this was a descent to earth. The big, bright yellow flower stuffed with mozzarella and deep fried in the lightest, crunchiest tempura batter lacked variety and juxtaposition of flavours and there was just too much of it. I would have liked less of the flower and more of the tomato and basil sauce.

The matching wine, Villa Huesgen’s ‘By the Glass’ Riesling, comes from an unspecified corner of Germany but works hard not to appear German. The wine list calls it a dry modern Riesling, immensely appealing and approachable. I suspect ‘approachable’ means ‘there is nothing here for anybody to dislike, because there is nothing.’ After trying to drown the world in third-rate Liebfraumilch in the 1970s German wine makers lost their confidence but this, with its awful name, is not the way back.

Course 4: Scallops

We disagreed about this one. This was a busy dish with cauliflower purée, little strips of pancetta cooked to crispness and an assertive caper and raisin dressing. Lynne, a scallop purist who holds that anything other than a light bouillon is a distraction, thought the scallop had been ‘mucked about.’ Being less inclined to regard the scallop as underwater royalty I thought the combinations had been well thought out and brilliantly executed. I liked it a lot.

The Verdejo/Sauvignon from Bodegas Naia in Rueda worked well enough with this. I am not a great Verdejo fan, but the 15% Sauvignon Blanc redeemed it with a becoming creaminess.

Course 5: Roast Plaice

Fish is not often roasted, and I suspect that roasting a thin, delicate fillet of plaice requires precisely judged temperature and timings. This was a triumph. Sprinkled with samphire it sat in a yin and yang of laverbread sauce and beurre blanc. The evening’s second appearance of laverbread was by no means unwelcome, and the beurre blanc sauce was so sumptuous I could have eaten a bowl of it with a spoon – though it would have done me no good.

Roast plaice with laverbread sauce, Tyddyn Llan

There is nothing a piece of plaice likes more than a good Muscadet, and Château de Poyet Muscadet Sèvre et Maine sur lie is a good Muscadet.

Course 6: Lamb or Duck

The courses hitherto had been small, though not tiny and we thought we were pacing ourselves well until the meat course arrived. In a review earlier this year Wales Online observed if you think fine dining is about tiny portions in the middle of big plates, then you haven't eaten here yet. Thirty years ago the appearance of a full sized main course at this stage would have been fine but as we progress through our sixties….

The Gosnargh duck was as good as they come, the pink breast sliced almost as thinly as bacon, the faggot intensely offal-y. Confit worked its magic, turning a humble spud into something delightful, and the port and blackcurrant sauce was rich if hardly ground-breaking. I do not see the point of celeriac purée, but maybe that is my problem.

The Patagonian Pinot Noir, pale almost rosé, and more Alsace-like than Burgundian was short of varietal flavour. Although I welcome the celebration of the long-standing links between Wales and Patagonia, the wine was disappointing.

Lynne struggled with her lamb, finding the cutlets delicious but running out of steam on the slow-cooked breast. There was no doubting the quality, but the quantity was too daunting at this stage of the evening.

Lynne and her lamb. Tyddyn Llan - that is a substantial plateful for course 6 of 7

The accompanying Rioja from Bodegas LAN, was as enjoyable as always – though as this was the climax I felt a reserva would have been more appropriate than a crianza.

Course 7: Cherry Soup with Cinnamon Ice Cream

For dessert I chose cherry soup with cinnamon ice cream, not because I imagined cherry soup would be anything more than a bowl of cherries, but for the ice cream. I thought the cinnamon understated (I prefer it that way) but the texture was something else. Even the best commercial ice creams are miles away from the luxury of real ice cream made by real people in a kitchen not a factory.

Cherry soup and cinnamon ice cream, Tyddyn Llan

Ice cream and wine are reluctant companions and I would not normally drink Moscato d'Asti but it was a revelation. Low in alcohol and semi-sparkling it was a surprisingly complex fruit salad of a wine and a fine accompaniment. Lynne opted out of the dessert but drank her Recioto della Valpolicella. Valpolicella made from partially dried grapes is usual vinified dry and strong. The sweet version - intensely and lusciously sweet - was new to me.

A fine evening finished in the lounge with coffee, petit fours (I still had one a small corner unstuffed) and a glass of grappa.

In 2012 Bryan Webb toldWales OnLine I have a Michelin star but wouldn’t class myself as a Michelin star chef….it makes people expect really fancy and technical food but that’s not for me. I do good honest food on a plate and by luck….we got a Michelin star but I have been cooking the same food for 22 years. I haven’t really changed anything [though] the ingredients might have got better.”

I would quibble with ‘by luck’ I suspect it was more to do with skill and hard work and as for being ‘technical’, top-quality ingredients beautifully cooked are good enough for me (and the Michelin inspectors).

I was a little disappointed with the wines; highlights were the Roederer Champagne at the start and (to my surprise) the Moscato d’Asti with dessert, but there were few peaks between. And if matching wines are offered for each course I want to see them on the menu with full details; I like to know my Muscadet comes from Château de Poyet and that I should not have had to do the checking, it should have been on the menu.

Tyddyn Llan was the fourth of Wales’ seven Michelin starred restaurants we have eaten at. At this level all should have at least one stand-out dish but Tyddyn Llan impressed me by having three, the langoustine, the plaice and the scallops (though Lynne would disagree about the scallops). Highly recommended

'Fine Dining' posts

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)