Into the Dean, Goodrich and The Speech House: Forest of Dean Part 1

A Border Castle, then into the Heart of the Forest of Dean

Our many (very many) journeys from the Midlands to visit friends and relatives in South Wales have taken us around the Forest of Dean, but we have not previously ventured away from the main road and into the woods. With Lynne’s birthday as an excuse and armed with a Travelzoo hotel deal it was time to put that right.

Goodrich Castle

Herefordshire

The Dean, as the locals call it, is in Gloucestershire but our first stop, beside the River Wye at Goodrich, was still (just) in Herefordshire

A rocky outcrop surrounded by a natural ditch (it was never a moat) overlooking an important river crossing was an obvious place for a castle. A wooden keep was constructed on an earth mound in the 10th or 11th century to create one of a line of Saxon forts along the Welsh border. Godric of Mappestone held it in the years after the Norman conquest, bequeathing his name to both castle and village.

The wooden fort was replaced by a rectangular, grey sandstone keep sometime between 1120 and 1176, possibly in connection with the civil war between King Stephen and Empress Maud (1135-1153) or maybe in response to Henry II’s hard line against the Welsh. During much of that time the Castle was in the possession of Gilbert de Clare and then his son Richard, who have previously graced this blog as constructors of Castell Coch, and the castles at Llantrisant and Caerphilly.

Goodrich Castle, the rectangular, grey sandstone keep surrounded by a later curtain wall

A curtain wall was built early in the 13th century. In 1247 Henry III gave the castle to his half-brother William de Valence who rebuilt the walls in the 1280s at the time his nephew, Edward I, was building the great castles of North Wales. Goodrich is thus closer in design to Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech than to other castles in England.

The gatehouse is approached across a drawbridge (now stone footbridge) from a later barbican.

Gatehouse, Goodrich Castle

It was designed to make uninvited visitors feel very unwelcome. If the drawbridge was down there was still a massive wooden gate and two heavy iron portcullises to negotiate, not to mention a murder hole above through which noxious or fatal substances could be thrown or tipped, and arrow slits on either side (off-set so defenders did not shoot each other).

Into the gatehouse, Goodrich Castle

Fearsome as this might have been, medieval Goodrich probably saw little action. The gatehouse even has a window, an obvious weak point, suggesting the inhabitants were confident – supremely confident as the masonry shows the window was once larger than it is now.

Window on the gatehouse wall, Goodrich Castle

It is actually the window to a chapel inside the gatehouse.

Chapel in the gatehouse, Goodrich Castle

Direct sunlight has taken the colour from the window in my photo, so I have borrowed the picture below from Wikipedia. Made using 15th century glass, the window was a millennium project designed by Hay-on-Wye based stained-glass artist Nicola Hopwood and financed by the parishioners of Goodrich, Marston and Welsh Bicknor. It shows the rock on which Goodrich stands, the River Wye and three faces representing the three parishes.

Goodrich Millennium Window, photo by Hchc2009, reproduced under Creative Commons Licence

At the other end of the chapel a memorial window commemorates the scientists, engineers and servicemen involved in the development of radar, particularly those who died when a Halifax testing radar equipment crashed near here in June 1942. Among the dead was electronics expert Alan Blumlein, who in peacetime had invented the concept of stereophonic sound and much of the hardware that makes it work. The flight had originated in RAF Defford, some 30 miles away in the grounds of Croome Court (we visited in July) where much of the development of radar took place.

Memorial window to the pioneers of radar, Goodrich Castle

This is an odd location for a chapel, but space on the rocky outcrop was limited. When the main gate is open the draw bar that secures it comes across in front of the altar (the socket can be seen on the left in the top picture)while upstairs was the mechanism to raise and lower the portcullises.

Housing for the wheels that raised one of the portcullises, Goodrich Castle

Apart from security and religion, William de Valence was concerned with comfort and inside the castle he aimed for the highest standings of 13th century gracious living. He built a solarium with delicate Gothic arches for use of his family,…

The interior of Goodrich castle with the solarium in the opposite corner

…he installed indoor toilets (though without running water so some poor sap still had to shovel the excrement from the ditch) and wash basins in the solarium and the great hall.

Great Hall, Goodrich Castle

The Norman Keep

But over it all looms the Norman keep.

Norman Keep, Goodrich Castle

The upper window is as decorated as they could manage at the time, the middle window was originally the entrance and there was a dungeon in the basement.

The decorated upper window of the Norman keep, Goodrich Castle

The top gives commanding views across the countryside, particularly over the River Wye now largely hidden by trees, but surely kept clear when it was of strategic importance.

The River Wye hidden in the trees - there is still a glimpse of the river, just over half way up, three quarters left

In the 14th century the Talbot family held the castle, repelling incursions by Owain Glyndŵr’s supporters in 1404. The Talbots became Earls of Shrewsbury in 1442 and played a significant part in the Wars of the Roses, but from their Castle in Sheffield not from Goodrich which they rarely visited. Goodrich was in decline and as castles ceased to be the residence of choice of the wealthy nobility in the 16th century, the decline looked terminal.

Roaring Meg

The Civil War dragged Goodrich back into service. Shortly after the outbreak of hostilities (August 1642) the castle was garrisoned by the Earl of Stamford for Parliament. Royalist pressure led him to withdraw to Gloucester in December 1643 and Sir Henry Lingen took the castle for the King. By 1646 the Royalist cause was in disarray and in June Goodrich was besieged by Parliamentary forces under Colonel John Birch. Despite having little more than its medieval defences, taking the castle proved difficult so Birch had local craftsmen build an enormous mortar capable of lobbing 90Kg gunpowder filled shells over the walls. This tipped the balance and when the west tower was reduced to rubble Sir Henry Lingen surrendered. ‘Roaring Meg’, as the mortar was dubbed, still sits at the base of the tower she demolished.

Roaring Meg, Goodrich Castle

Like most English castles Goodrich was slighted at the end of the war so that it could never be used again.

The 18th and 19th centuries saw the beginnings of ‘tourism’. William Gilpin introduced the concept of ‘the picturesque’ and in his snappily entitled book Observations on the River Wye, and Several Parts of South Wales, etc. Relative Chiefly to Picturesque Beauty; made in the Summer of the Year of 1770 he cited Goodrich as an example of the ‘correctly picturesque,’. William Wordsworth called it the " noblest ruin in Herefordshire" while early Victorian painter, engraver and author Theodore Fielding wrote of the "castle's situation, far from human dwellings, and the stillness which that solitude insures to its precinct, leads contemplation to all the solemnity that is inspired by the sight of grandeur sinking in dignity, into decay"

In 1820 the visitor to Goodrich could pay 6d for a guidebook, but nobody thought of doing anything to arrest the ‘grandeur sinking into decay.’ In 1919 the collapse of parts of the curtain wall and north west tower persuaded the owner to give the castle to the Office of Works who set about repair and stabilisation of the ruin. Goodrich Castle is now in the care of English Heritage and is a Grade I listed building and Scheduled Monument.

The Speech House, Forest of Dean

Gloucestershire

Forest of Dean

Goodrich Castle stands just outside the Forest of Dean; the Speech House Hotel, where we spent the next two nights, is right in the middle – the monument marking the alleged exact point stands on the road opposite the hotel. Getting there from Goodrich took 15 minutes along the sort of roads that only sat navs know.

Allegedly the exact centre of the Forest of Dean

In 1660, 14 years after the destruction of Goodrich Castle and only 11 after the execution of Charles I, the monarchy was restored. Nine years later The Speech House was built as a hunting lodge for Charles II. Part of the building is original, but part dates from an 1881 rebuilding. It was not obvious to me which is which, but the various extensions and outbuildings at the back – essential parts of the modern hospitality industry - looked more recent.

The Speech House Hotel, Forest of Dean

Since 1676 The Speech House has housed the Verderers’ Court of the Forest of Dean. Verderers are a vestige of the medieval forest administration who survive here and in the New Forest and Epping Forest. Since at least 1281 the Verderers of the Forest of Dean have protected the ‘vert and venison’ (vegetation and habitat) and formerly acted as magistrates. Although they only dealt with minor crimes, the punishments they could hand out were major; gallows once stood outside the Speech House and the whipping beam can still be seen in one of the bedrooms.

There are four verderers each elected to the unpaid position for life by an ancient and arcane procedure. They meet quarterly in their courtroom in the Speech House - which otherwise serves as the hotel’s breakfast room – to discuss forest matters, but no longer get to hang or flog anybody.

The carved oak chairs were donated by the Crawshay family in 1820. The Crawshays were ‘Iron Barons’ owning the Cyfarthfa Ironworks in Merthyr Tydfil among other assets. Richard Crawshay, the founder of the dynasty (died 1810) was known as ‘The Tyrant’ and the Crawshay name is still remembered – and without fondness – in industrial Monmouthshire.

The Breakfast room and Verderers Court with carved oak chairs, Speech House Hotel, Forest of Dean

18 years ago, the chairs were stolen and after travelling through Spain and Portugal found their way to a London auction house. The auctioneer saw their quality, checked with the police stolen arts squad and they were subsequently returned to their proper home.

We dined in the Orangery, the ‘pub’ restaurant of the Speech House, leaving their ‘fine dining’ restaurant for tomorrow. It was reasonably priced pub food, washed down with the ‘free’ bottle of house red from our Travelzoo deal. Lynne’s faggots were particularly good, the product of a local artisan butcher, not a factory. A commendation, too, for Wye Vale Gin, distilled by the Silver Circle distillery just across the Wye in rural Monmouthshire. The mushroom growth of artisan gins has led to some mixed quality, but Silver Circle seems to have got it right.

Forest of Dean

Part 1: Into the Dean, Goodrich and The Speech House

Part 2: Coleford and Around

Part 3: Puzzlewood and The Kymin

Countryfile Live and Blenheim Palace

The BBC's Countryfile, Live in the Grounds of Blenheim Palace - and a Quick Look at the Palace

Oxfordshire

Fate kindly showered us with a couple of complementary tickets for Countryfile Live (thanks Gaby) so, on what promised to be a warm August day, we made our way down to Blenheim Palace just outside Woodstock in Oxfordshire

The grounds of Blenheim are vast with ample room for the show and the car parking. The complex logistical exercise of getting so many vehicles in and out seemed to go well, though locals must have endured some disruption with multiple temporary traffic lights and country lanes normally seeing dozens of cars a day suddenly coping with hundreds, if not thousands.

John Craven and Adam Henson

We arrived early and as soon as the gates opened headed for the ‘Big Barn’. Being regular viewers of the show, we wanted to see some of the presenters live so we settled on our hay bales (well it was Countryfile) to watch John Craven and Adam Henson, with producer Jo Brame, talking to Helen Fospero (GMTV, Lorraine, Watchdog and more).

Adam Henson, John Craven, Helen Fospero and Jo Brame (l to r)
Countryfile Live, Blenheim Palace

John and Adam have a good professional and personal relationship, and both picked as highlights occasions when John (the television professional) had been roughed up by the livestock of Adam (the farming professional).

John Craven has been on our screens since John Logie Baird and admits to being 78. That makes him 10 years older than me, and I shall be delighted if I am in such good condition in 2029 – actually that bird may already have flown. Adam Henson mixes his farm work with Countryfile presenting, claiming in answer to a question from the audience that he divides his time about 50-50. He then detailed his upcoming Countryfile commitments, suggesting the farm might be well below 50% in the immediate future. His father, Joe Henson, who died in 2015, opened the Cotswold Farm Park in 1971 and was the founding chairman of the the Rare Breeds Survival Trust.

British Charcuterie

The nearby British Charcuterie tent gave us the opportunity to taste the wares of a dozen or so producers in (according to the Show Guide) this ‘booming sector of artisanal food production’. I love charcuterie but I am aware that sustainability requires us to eat less meat and health requires us to cut down on processed meat. I could use the ‘I am too old to change’ excuse, though it is not really true, but I expect I will go on damaging the environment and myself regardless.

Helen Browning, Wiltshire farmer and Chief Executive of the Soil Association, is the organic farmer’s organic farmer – so it is not all bad. She produces a full range of charcuterie including an organic corned beef – not a product I had previously thought of as charcuterie. Her corned beef resembles Frey Bentos in little more than the name - who knew something so humble could be so delicious?

Helen Browning;s stall, Countryfile Live

We enjoyed the wild venison salami made by Good Game of Topsham in Devon, and the Suffolk Salamis from Lane Farm in the tiny village of Brundish. We particularly like the rosemary salami, though its fennel cousin has been the one nominated for awards.

Lane Farm Foods, Countryfile Live

Two stalls in the tent which nobody could call charcuterie had rather different but still excellent products. The charcoal salt from Churchfields Saltworks, Droitwich sold under the label of the Michelin starred restaurant Carter’s of Moseley (Moseley must have changed since my student days!) was complex and subtle, and capable of transforming a steak. Cult Vinegars, apparently based in a residential house in Balham, south London, were less acidic than most vinegars so tasting them was not wince inducing. The herb infused vinegars were herbal, the PX, Port and Bordeaux vinegars really did taste of sweet Pedro Ximenez, Port and claret. The English red wine vinegar was less distinctive (but that is the one nominated for awards.)

Cult vinegar stall, Countryfile Live

We are now owners of venison and rosemary salamis, a bag of charcoal salt and a collection of tiny bottles of very expensive vinegar.

Charles Hanson and Rick Stein

We had tickets to see Charles Hanson (Bargain Hunt, Antiques Road Trip etc) and strolled through the show to the appropriate venue. This took us through the ‘Dog Lovers’ Arena’. Doggy people naturally assume that everybody loves dogs as much as they do. I do not, I have an allergy – and I dislike their behaviour. Dogsters usually believe this character defect can be rectified by their particular darling slobbering on the defective. I keep my distance.

Pigs though are different, and there is little cuter than a pile of Saddleback piglets. There were once two breeds of Saddleback, Essex and Wessex. and in the 1940s they accounted for almost half the British pig population. In 1955 the Howitt Report decided that breed diversity was handicapping our pig industry which henceforth should concentrate on three breeds only, none of them saddlebacks. By 1967 the herd-books of the saddleback breeds had become so thin, they were merged to create the British Saddleback. The population has grown and the Rare Breeds Survival Trust now lists them as a ‘minority’ rather than a ‘rare’ breed.

British Saddlebacks, Countryfile, Live

My interest in antiques is less than all-consuming, but Charles Hanson spoke amusingly and answered questions for an hour that passed swiftly. I cannot remember anything he said, but over 37 years as a teacher, I suspect there were students who might have said the same of me, though perhaps their time flowed more sluggishly.

Charles Hanson at Countryfile Live

We dashed back to the big barn to see the end of Rick Stein’s chat. Food interests me more than antiques and we have eaten at Stein’s Padstow sea food restaurant. We also seem to follow each other round, we had the same local guide in Puebla in Mexico, and ate at the same street food stalls in Lucknow

Rick Stein in the Big Barn, Countryfile Live

He was taken to task during the Q&A for the quantity of salt he uses when cooking on TV. I sympathise with his defence: these are dishes for pleasure not survival (moderation in all things – including moderation), but I feel that although his restaurant gets it right, on TV he throws in more than can be pleasurable.

Lunch at Countryfile Live

It was now lunchtime and there were many options.

Food choices, Countryfile Live

We settled on crispy duck wraps, Lynne had a freshly squeezed orange juice and I had a pint from the Three Fiends Brewery stall next door. Three Fiends is a microbrewery set up by three friends in Holmfirth in 2014. Thankfully, their brewing is better than their punning and I can wholeheatedly recommend their Two Face Pale Ale.

Crispy duck wraps and the Three Fiends Brewery, Countryfile Live

Pull up a bale and sit down, lunch at Countryfile Live

Sheep, Horses, Ducks and More

We spent the afternoon dropping in on various exhibits, starting with Stuart Barnes and his sheep show. With eight different breeds on stage I suspect there was some serious point to the show, but by the time we arrived music was playing and Stuart was showing the different dancing styles of the various breeds.

Stuart Barnes and his sheep show, Countryfile Live

More Countryfile presenters were appearing on the main stage, and we saw John Craven (again) and Ellie Harrison aided by two members of the public and, as there was a quiz of sorts, a member of the production team operating what the BBC might call a laser display board.

John Craven, Ellie Harrison and others, Countryfile Live

Unfortunately, I suffer the same (literally) eye-wateringly unpleasant reaction to horses as to dogs, but nobody looks at you oddly if you decline to pet their horse, so we spent some time watching dressage in the Mane Arena (it was a day for bad puns). Despite the best efforts of the enthusiastic commentator I still do not understand the finer points of dressage, indeed I do not understand the broader ones either….

Dressage, Countryfile Live

….and I am almost as ignorant about Morris Dancing. The Hereburgh Morris team, from the Warwickshire village of Harbury were giving their all, so we moved on before being co-opted onto the dance floor.

Hereburgh Morris, Countryfile Live

It was time for an ice cream, and having never previously encountered goat’s milk ice cream we took the opportunity. It was fine, but the familiar, distinctive goaty flavour was either absent or lost under the mint and chocolate chip.

Goat's milk ice cream from the Greedy Goat

We have seen people carving Buddha statues from wood and marble with electric sanders in Vietnam, and Mike Burgess’ chainsaw sculptures fall into the same category. Not only could I not do this, I do not understand how anyone can; I am in awe of Mike Burgess and his Vietnamese confrères.

Mike Burgess and his chainsaw sculptures

Stuart Barnes had left his sheep and was in the arena with his ducks and dogs. He is a serious dog trainer and his insights into dog psychology, imparted with forthright Australian wit, explained convincingly why there are no bad dogs, just bad owners. Wary, as I am of dogs, I do like ducks, and we really came to see his Indian running ducks, wonderful if slightly unlikely creatures here doing a job usually undertaken by sheep.

Stuart Barnes with his dogs and ducks, Countryfile Live

Apart from some second visits for purchases decided on earlier, that was it for our day at Countryfile Live. It had been, as Wallace would say, a grand day out. Mostly visitors could have been unaware they were in the grounds of Blenheim Palace, though it can be seen from near the main stage and this post would be incomplete without a few words about this massive pile.

Blenheim Palace from near the Countryfile Live main stage

Blenheim Palace

The House and its History

Blenheim Palace is a whacking great house, one of the largest in the country and the only ‘palace’ that is not a residence of the queen or a bishop. We visited in February 2017 with our daughter, son-in-law and grandson.

Blenheim Palace. Critics are divided about the building. In my humble (oh, so very humble) opinion it is a massive monument to ostentatious bad taste.

Born in Devon in 1650 into the gentry rather than aristocracy, John Churchill’s successful diplomatic and military career was more a consequence of his ability than his birth – though his wife’s friendship with Queen Anne probably helped.

Entrance Hall, Blenheim Palace

In the first decade of the 18th century Churchill led the Grand Alliance in a series of major victories in the War of the Spanish Succession, most notably at Blenheim. As a reward a grateful nation paid to build him a house on land donated by Queen Anne, who also made him the 1st Duke of Marlborough.

Ceiling, Blenheim Palace

Baroque was never a big hit in England, and Blenheim designed by Sir John Vanburgh, is one of very few English Baroque houses. The project was dogged by political in-fighting, and the Duchess’s falling out with the queen. Never particularly rich, the Duke of Marlborough spent what fortune he had completing the project.

Vases, Blenheim Palace

Despite many difficulties Blenheim has remained the residence of the Dukes of Marlborough ever since. Winston Churchill was born here in 1875...

Winston Churchill was born in this room, Blenheim Palace

... and in 1895 his friend and cousin Charles, the 9th Duke ensured economic stability by marrying Consuelo Vanderbilt the daughter of American railroad millionaire William Vanderbilt. Charles got his money, the Vanderbilts got a titled daughter and the unfortunate Consuelo got a husband she never wanted. The couple separated in 1906 (after Consuelo had produced an heir and a spare) and divorced in 1921.

The Long Library, Blenheim Palace

The 11th Duke opened the house to the public, so us peasants can now (for a price) wander round the house and gardens. He died in 2014 and the 12th Duke, whose well documented troubles have including prison sentences and drug abuse, is now in residence. The house is administered by a board of trustees.

Formal gardens, Blenheim Palace

The Entertainment

Blenheim also has family orientated attractions, situated a little way from the house so they provide a train to take you there.

Blenheim's little train

The maze is fun; being able to look down from above is both helpful and frustrating….

The Blenheim maze

…and the butterfly house provides welcome tropical warmth on a cold day. There were plenty of butterflies but they can be difficult to identify; the one below is (I think) a red helen, a native of southern India.

A red helen (I think) in the Blenheim butterfly house

The butterflies share their home with a flock of zebra finches; common in central Australia, but looking pleasingly exotic in Oxfordshire.

Zebra finches in the Blenheim butterfly house

And there is a model of part of the town of Woodstock.

Part of the Woodstock model
You will be pleased to know that our grandson now has a full complement of teeth again

Blenheim provides a good day out, even in February when such things are rare – but its not a cheap day.

Fischers at Baslow Hall

A Wedding Anniversary Celebrated with a Fine Dinner in a Michelin Starred Restaurant

Baslow Hall

Derbyshire

The 15min drive from Haddon to Baslow took us past Chatsworth House.

Baslow Hall, a little north of the village, looks at first sight a typical 17th century country squire’s residence. It was, though, built in 1907 by the family of Jeremiah Stockdale, vicar of Baslow.

Baslow Hall, Baslow

In 1913 the hall was bought by electrical engineer and inventor Sebastian Ziani de Ferranti who had founded S.Z. de Ferranti (later Ferranti International plc) in 1885. From 1919 Baslow Hall had its own generator and more electrical gadgets than any other house of its time, even an electric laundry.

After Ferranti’s death in 1930, the Hall changed ownership several times before being bought by Max and Susan Fischer in 1988. After refurbishment Fischer’s Baslow Hall opened as a fine-dining restaurant with rooms in October 1989. It won a Michelin Star in 1994 and has maintained it ever since. [At least for the next few months. The star was lost when the 2020 edition of the guide was published in autumn 2019]

Baslow Hall

Max Fischer

Max Fischer was born in Lüneburg, left school at 16 and became apprenticed to a local chef. He worked in Germany and then in two Michelin starred establishments, the Restaurant Nicholas in Paris and the Bell Inn at Aston Clinton where, in 1975, he met his wife Susan. Spells in Sweden and Germany followed, before he and Susan took over a small café in Bakewell in 1980 and thence to Baslow Hall in 1989.

Kitchen Garden, Baslow Hall

Max now styles himself ‘Executive Chef’. The Head Chef is Barnsley born James Payne. After some years with Gordon Ramsey at Claridge’s he came to Baslow Hall as a Chef de Partie in 2010, working his way up through the ranks to become head chef this year.

Dinner at Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Apéritifs and Canapés

At the appointed hour we made our way to the lounge. The drinks menu listed seven gins, headed by old favourite Tanqueray, but willing to try something new we looked further down. Each gin was described in a word, or for Tanqueray two - ‘traditional London’, other words included ‘cucumber’ and ‘citrus’. Call us old-fashioned but we wanted a gin not a smoothie. Dingle, however, distilled in that fine Irish town (we visited in 2016), was described as ‘juniper’ – perfect. And very good it was too.

The canapés were pretty. On the left a shell of filo pastry with raw beef and a blob of black garlic on caramelised onion. The elements were top quality, the combination brilliant. Pork rind lounged in the centre laced with something not quite as simple as mayonnaise. It was fine, but however you dress up a pork scratching, it is still a pork scratching. On the right was a crisp mini-pizza with tomato and cheese. The world is full of rubbish pizzas; this is what they should be like (if a tad bigger for a main course.)

Canapés, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Decor, Amuse-Bouches and Starters

We moved through to the dining room. Professional restaurant critics, of whom I am not one, often bang on about décor; some devote more space to interior design than cooking. Not me, I am here for the food not the curtains. Jay Rayner visited for the Guardian in 2015 and in the course of a faintly patronising review he called Baslow Hall, ‘a venerable country house hotel....where the outbreaks of floral and chintz made me mutter about being buried alive in Laura Ashley’s coffin. In here there is no design issue that cannot be solved by the liberal application of pelmets.’ I know only a little more about interior design than Donald Trump knows about cricket, but surely the design criteria for an urban space would be different from a country house – though according to Rayner the concept of a house in the country is so very 1980s. Perhaps it would have been more fashionable to gather them all up and move them inside the M25.

A tiny bowl of Wye Valley asparagus soup (presumably Herefordshire not Derbyshire's Wye Valley) was intensely flavoured with a swirl of tarragon oil adding an unexpected but delicious counterpoint. Food comes from the country, Jay, and it does not come any better than this.

A miraculous little bowl of asparagus soup, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

And then along came an excellent sourdough loaf with Abernethy butter and black garlic. All wonderful stuff but at this stage of the meal, what is it for? A question I have asked before.

Top class bread, but this is not quite when I want it, Fischer's Baslow Hall

Lynne’s first-course choice was hand dived scallops with tomato, lovage and Cornish gouda. She often orders scallops, knowing they will not match up to Claude Bosi’s at the Ludlow iteration of Hibiscus. Bosi had the confidence to do (almost) nothing to his scallops, and Lynne believes, even as she orders, that all other scallop dishes try too hard.

Scallops, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

These scallops were excellent, well-flavoured and accurately cooked, the lovage sauce a positive addition. The Cornish Gouda did little, though a stronger cheese/fish combination would have been unwelcome. The Dutch Spierings family enthusiastically produce traditional Gouda on their southeast Cornwall farm; a tad strange maybe, though I admire their enterprise and commitment. The unidentified ‘black things’ (looking misleadingly burnt) added crunch. Overall, she thought the dish impressive, but having eaten the platonic template of scallop dishes, nothing else completely satisfies.

My goose liver ballotine with peach, almond and camomile looked megalithic, sculpted cromlechs of peach forming a circle round a menhir of goose liver. The blobs of camomile had little flavour – fine, I don’t much like camomile – but with the almond flakes they provided contrasting textures. The ballotine in the middle was sumptuous, soft and elegant. The peach was a pleasant sweet/acid counterfoil, but the liver hardly needed it, I would joyfully have eaten a whole bowlful with a spoon (though I don’t think it would have done me much good).

Ballotine of goose liver, Fischer's, Baslow Hall
I know this is out of focus, but it's a bad photo or no photo - sorry

Main Courses, Rabbit and Beef

Lynne liked her main course, loin of rabbit with Scottish langoustine, crispy leg and sweet cicely but was mildly bemused by the langoustine. ‘It was lovely, but a bit like having two different dinners on the same plate.’ The crispy little leg croquette was a success, but overall, although the rabbit was perfectly cooked, it was not particularly rabbity.

Loin of rabbit, Fischers, Baslow Hall

I chose shorthorn beef with potato “tartiflette”, smoked short rib and garden leeks. The beef was first class. Cooked rare, as requested, it was tender without loosing its texture, and full of flavour. The short rib beneath had little smokiness but was soft, beguiling, slow cooked beef at its best. The sauce – or jus, or gravy – was deep, rich and satisfying. The vegetable accompaniment was just that, an accompaniment to the star performer. There was potato, there was leek and there was something delightfully caramelised. I had no more idea what tartiflette meant at the end than I had when I ordered, though I now know it involves bacon, cream and reblochon cheese. I do not recall any bacon or cheese, maybe the inverted commas suggested variations from the script but I don’t really care, everything came together in a substantial plateful of loveliness so what more could I want?

Short horn beef, Fischers, Baslow Hall

Lynne’s choices required white wine, mine red so we had a half bottle of Sancerre and similar of Gigondas. Both were good and of their type, but not outstanding, so given the usual hefty mark-up we were a little disappointed. The bottles were whisked away after pouring - the staff were attentive enough to ensure our glasses never ran dry, but why do this? I do not find pouring my own wine a burden, nor do I object to the sight of a bottle on a table; I like good service, but this felt oddly intrusive.

Pre-Desserts, Desserts and Cheese

A pre-dessert of elderflower ice-cream, fermented strawberries and sweet cicely (her, again) was three mouthfuls of deliciousness, though I wonder how (and why) anyone ferments a strawberry.

Pre-dessert, Fischer's Baslow Hall

Lynne’s desert was pretty and delicious. At his point, Jay Rayner, having had an unadventurous lunch, moans‘it’s as if the setting makes the offering of a crumble or something dense and steamed simply unconscionable’. Unlike Mr Rayner, I was paying for my own meal, and at these prices I expect something more complex than comfort food - not that there is anything wrong with an apple crumble, at the right time and place.

Dessert, Fischer's Baslow Hall

I went for cheese. The selection was impressive and all British, so I will restate my delight at the rebirth of British artisan cheese-making, and regret that such delights can only be found in specialist shops (and top-end restaurants.)

I have come across Tunworth, bottom left, from Hampshire before. Described as a ‘British camembert’ it was under-ripe at my first meeting and I was hoping to discover why it wins prizes, but this was over-ripe, and still short on flavour. [2022 Update: At my third attempt I bought a perfect Tunworth at Gloucester Services on the M5. It was worth it the wait.] Perl Wen (White Pearl), bottom right from Cenarth on the Carmarthen/Ceredigion/Pembroke border claims to be a ‘unique cross between Brie and Caerffili’. I hate to dis my native heath but I have never been a big fan of Caerphilly (Anglo spelling), and ditto, sadly, Perl Wen.

Cheese, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Irritatingly the best cheeses are the three that must remain nameless (because I have forgotten). The blue and the goats’ cheese, so ripe it was dissolving into a puddle of its own unctuousness, were lovely, but the star was the unprepossessing fish shaped thing across the middle of the plate. At the perfection of ripeness, it was strong, elegant and as fine a cheese as I have ever been privileged to eat.

Coffee and Petit-Fours

And so coffee, petit fours and a cognac from the cheaper end of the list brought our wedding anniversary meal to an end. Jay Rayner was generally complimentary about the food, but after being chided by a (metropolitan?) reader that he is harsher on London restaurants he replies ‘I put more effort in trying to find good places outside London because what’s the point of a crap review of somewhere in, say, Derbyshire?...And sometimes even when you do find solid cooking, it comes with a side order of floral print.’

‘Solid cooking’? Damning with faint praise? He came for Sunday lunch, ate roast beef and wanted apple crumble, which speaks volumes about his expectations of ‘somewhere in Derbyshire.’ Whether Michelin stars are the be-all and end-all of good restaurants is another argument, but they do guarantee high quality cooking and a degree of inventiveness in the menu. There are about 140 starred restaurants in the UK, roughly half in London, leaving 70 in "places like Derbyshire" where the cooking, if you take the trouble to look, is better than ‘solid.’

I usually like Jay Rayner, there is more to him than just a metropolitan snob, but not in this review. We liked Fischer’s, we liked the cooking and we liked the ambience (though our bedroom was rather small). I would hope a 3-starred meal would be perfection, at 1-star I have always found something to quibble with, though rarely more than a quibble. For us, Fischer’s amply justified its place in the restaurant elite, whether judged by London or Derbyshire standards.

'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)
The Cross, Kenilworth (& Kenilworth Castle) 2024