The Ivy Montpellier Brasserie, Cheltenham

 The Ivy Montpellier Brasserie certainly needs no introduction. It's the snazzy big name that arrived to town just in time for Christmas, the place that was fully booked before it had even opened its doors, and the place that dominated all the local social media channels... Admittedly, I joined the bandwagon too.

But whilst the hype of the new begins to fade, and booking a table becomes a lot easier, I thought I'd share my thoughts and experiences (especially after an article by Gloucestershire Live on their Trip Advisor reviews... Slow news day perhaps?).

The former Lloyds Bank building has had more than a little spruce up, and it now feels as though it has found its purpose. Of course they've gone down the Cheltenham horse racing route - some of it tasteful, some of it too much - but overall, they've spent enough on it to ensure it oozes elegance.

The dome and the central circular bar really is a thing of beauty. This is where you want to be seated, and I've felt a little disappointed on the times where I've been ushered elsewhere. Fine in the daytime, when you can look out during your leisurely lunch to people watch, but come the evening, you miss out on the theatre of the bar. And that's worth noting; The Ivy does all day dining. None of this kitchen closure at 3pm that catches me out every time everywhere else. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner, and as far as I can see, there's no weakest link.

The menu is extensive, with a mix of classic dishes - fish and chips, steaks, burgers - alongside ones with more of an Eastern influence - spot ingredients like ponzu, miso, wasabi and yuzu. Enough choice for the fussiest eaters, and plenty for those who'd like something fancier. Grilled whole lobster?... The food won't blow you away, but that's not what you come here for. You go to Michelin Star places for that. Instead, it's familiar, well executed, and consistently good.

The a la carte has gone through a seasonal change in the past month; the Atlantic Sea Scallops (£11.95) no longer comes with truffle risoni, parmesan, black truffle and sweet potato crisps - shame, it was a winner - but now a lighter spring time combination of pea purée with broad beans, lemon zest, sea cress and crispy shallots. The Soft Goats Cheese Salad (£6.50) with shaved apple with golden raisins, hazelnuts, pickled walnuts and Belgian endive has replaced the festive Stilton and cranberry version. And asparagus now features in many dishes.

The Ivy has a lot of main-stayers though; the dishes that do so well that they'll never be taken off the menu. The Steak Sandwich "French Dip" (£13.50) packed full of rare roast beef, with a rich Burgundy sauce and thick cut chips is a great shout for lunch. The Steak Tartare (£9.25) is also excellent, seasoned with Tabasco dressing, cornichons, shallots, parsley, and topped off with an egg yolk. And although I feared that the thinly beaten rump steak as part of the Steak, Egg & Chips (£14.50) was going to be tough and over-cooked, it was full of flavour and just as juicy as any other steak. Significantly cheaper too.

The Crispy Duck Salad (£7.95) features on the original Ivy London menu; warm crispy duck with five spice dressing, toasted cashews, watermelon, beansprouts, coriander and ginger. A very delicious thing it is too. And The Ivy Shepherd's Pie (£13.75) is legendary across the board. Slow-braised lamb shoulder with beef and Wookey Hole Cheddar potato mash; rich and comforting.

Before I forget, don't ignore the snacks. The Truffle Arancini (£5.50) are just as addictive as they are piping hot when they come fresh from the kitchen. And the mountain of Zucchini Fritti - courgette fries with lemon, chilli and mint yoghurt - could feed an army; a steal for £5.75.

On my last visit, I tried their Smoked Salmon & Crab starter (£11.50). The most rectangular pieces of salmon known to man, with a small amount of crab and dill cream and rye soda bread. Predictably "nice" but probably a poor choice on my front... Though not as poor as tuna "special" I had when they first opened. Not special at all as it turned out. We'll pretend that never happened.

My main of Roast Half Chicken (£14.95) was more than redeeming. Off the bone and flattened, with the best kind of crispy, crackling skin. A smattering of gremolata - could have done with more - and a few watercress stems - again, more - were a pleasant touch, but it was the generous helping of rosemary jus that really made it. A side of Baked Sweet Potato (£3.75) with harissa yoghurt and mint and coriander dressing was lovely, though Olive Oil Mashed Potato (£3.50) or Truffle and Parmesan Chips (£4.50) would've probably been better suited, if only to help mop up all that gravy. 

The desserts have it all; creamy, fruity, chocolatey, and a couple of options for each. Frozen Berries (£6.95) with warm white chocolate sauce for the more health conscious, melting Chocolate Bombe (£8.50) for everyone else. Watch as the hot salted caramel sauce collapses the chocolate dome, revealing a vanilla ice cream and honeycomb centre; showy, but not as showy as the Apple Tart Fine (£7.95), which gets its own Calvados flambé (and is the best of the bunch in my eyes).

The Lemon Meringue Alaska (£7.25) is also delicious; baked meringue with a tart lemon ice cream, lemon curd sauce and baby basil. It's a decent size too, so could easily be shared if you can't fully commit to dessert. But if you truly are stuffed to the gills, yet still want something sweet, I'd suggest going with the Salted Caramel Espresso Martini (£8.00). If nothing else, it'll give you a caffeine kick to help get you up and out of the door. 

Cocktails are pretty nice at The Ivy. My go-to is the Angel’s Share (£9.50), a long Mojito style drink that combines kumquats and kaffir lime leaves with Havana rum. Super refreshing. The Royale (£10.25) - their take on a Kir Royale - is a fine pre-dinner drink too; Champagne with a slug of Sipsmith sloe gin, Briottet Rose liqueur and hibiscus. However, if you want drama - of course you do - the Cotswold Passion (£10.25) comes complete with half a flaming passion fruit.

The wine list is maybe not quite as exciting though. There's plenty to choose from - sure - but a lot of them have a big mark up and quite a hefty price tag. Not unusual to be fair. And that said, I think we almost drank them out of Mosel Riesling on one occasion, slipped down very easily at £37 a pop. The Sicilian Frappato is a tasty red for £31 too. I just wish they'd leave the wines on the table; I don't want my wine in an ice bucket on the other side of the room. It's faffy having someone come and top up your glass every few sips, and it makes it really difficult to know how much you've had or how much you have left.

Which brings me to service. That's what The Ivy prides itself on. Here, I've had service so charming that I've gladly paid the 12.5% charge they whack on. Though on the flipside, I've had service so awkward and clunky that I've asked for it to be taken off (I hate being that person). I guess no one can be on their A-Game every single day, and with a restaurant with well over 100 covers, it must be tricky to juggle.

There are mixed opinions, there always are, but I think people forget that it is a chain. It's not The Ivy West Street, the iconic 100 year old London restaurant. It is a chain. Yes there are similarities, both in appearances and dishes, but it's just one of a number of grills/brasseries/cafés that have opened up across the country under The Ivy Collection name. 

No matter what anyone says, the Montpellier Brasserie is always going to do well in Cheltenham, isn't it? It'll get (and probably already has got) regular customers that come back week in/week out, its glamour will instantly catch the attention of visitors to the town, it will thrive during race meets, and that bar will forever be Instagrammed. 

Set Lunch Menu at The White Spoon

Well then, a lot has changed since my last post at the start of May - hence the radio silence. Not only do I have myself some extra bling, but I also have a new surname too (though we'll stick with Simpson on here). Yep, The Chap and I got married, and we've done some serious celebrating; aka eating (a lot) and drinking (a lot) in various places around the country. It's the only way we know how.

Anyway, now that our feet are firmly back on the ground, and there's no more wedmin to take up all our evenings, it's time to rejoin the local foodie loop. And what better way to start than an invitation to The White Spoon for a Cotswolds Bloggers event!

I've written about The White Spoon before; we had a wonderful dinner there not long after it had opened, and we still talk about that blackened beef. Though admittedly not quite as much as we talk about The Chap's incident with a razor clam at the launch party. He'll never live that one down (there was crunching involved).

I've been back since, having a suitably boozy a la carte lunch there a few months ago, but this was the first time trying their set lunch menu, albeit on a Friday night. There's a new Front of House, who gives us just as warm a welcome and shows us to our seats. It seemed a little odd that our bloggers group were split up into two separate tables, but hey ho.

Our options were simple; two courses, two options for each, job done. Naturally, The Chap and I had one of each so that all bases were covered, and with our orders in, out came a carafe of house white (£3 per glass with the set menu) and The White Spoon's signature plant pot bread with Applewood smoked butter. It's a £2 supplement, but always order the bread; there's a reason it hasn't changed since day one.

Kelmscott pork chop with peas and broad beans was my choice for mains. There's something so comforting about a simple chop paired with other simple seasonal ingredients, in this case double podded broad beans and peas folded through a pea purée. For once there was no trickery in the cheffy shorthand menu, and sometimes that's all that you want. Excellent.

In contrast, The Chap's dish of goats cheese ravioli with pickled beetroot was a total surprise. One large ravioli packed with tangy cheese sat atop some slices of red and golden beetroot - yep, got this - with some wilted greens - yep, still with you - and covered with pickled beetroot foam... Say what? I don't think anyone was expecting it, but that magenta foam not only looked incredible but tasted it too; an instant hit of pickled beetroot as if by magic.  

We were given a side of crushed swede and black pepper and some mind boggling aerated mash (£3.50 supplement each). In its fancy copper pan, it looked like the lump-less mash you'd usually see in a restaurant, but it really was so light that it was like eating a potato cloud. A new one for me. Both were a good accompaniment to the pork, the ravioli not so much, though it didn't stop anyone diving in.

The first dessert was lemon parfait and meringue. Blowtorched Italian meringue, crisp meringue shards and biscuit crumbs offered a range of textures, whilst the zingy parfait was the star of the show. A pick-me-up rather than an overindulgence, and perfect in this kind of weather. 

The other, banana cake with ginger ice cream. Not the dense sickly sweet cake that is so often the case, but a super fluffy sponge topped with banana purée and caramelised banana slices. That's the thing about Chris White's cooking here at The White Spoon; he shies away from overly rich and heavy dishes, adopting a 'lighter' style of cooking which "showcases the diversity of ways in which ingredients can be prepared and enjoyed." And with their second birthday on the horizon, it's clearly working for them.

We finished the evening with Bristol Twenty coffee and petit fours. A decent cup of coffee, a bite size brownie, biscotti and marshmallow, for just a £3 supplement? I've spent more than that on a single espresso before, so you'd be a fool not to.

The White Spoon's set menu is a steal at £12 for two courses, or three for £15, and is available Wednesday to Saturday lunchtimes as well as before 7pm on Thursdays. It changes weekly in order to capture the best seasonal ingredients, which also means you can go regularly and never get bored - hurrah!

Big thanks to Chris, Purdey and their team for hosting us Cotswolds Bloggers; it's nice to be back.

Birthday Dinner at The Chef's Dozen, Chipping Campden

It's a rare occasion that I'll be going to dinner without any knowledge of where I'm going, or what sort of food I'll be eating. However, my birthday this year was just that. The Chap had planned a couple of months in advance to book into a restaurant that I'd previously mentioned, and for those that know me, I talk about a lot of restaurants. All I was told is that it was 45 minutes from our house…

Did I want to know? Yes. Did I want to spoil the surprise? No. I racked my brains but couldn't think, and it wasn't until that Friday evening that I was told where we were off to; The Chef's Dozen.

Set in the centre of the Cotswold town Chipping Campden, this is actually the The Chef's Dozen Mark II, with the first originally based in Alcester. Chef Richard Craven and his wife Solanche built up a great reputation, but decided to move on, and after a stint working at The Fuzzy Duck in Armscote, the pair found the opportunity to open their own restaurant again - in Richard's hometown. 

For local food followers, you may already be well versed with Richard's name thanks to his victory at the Cotswold Life Food & Drink Awards last year, winning 'Chef of the Year' (he's also finalist this year too). His precise but unfussy food has melted the hearts of many a critic, as has his wife's passionate FOH charm. Within an instant you feel like you're old friends and longstanding customers, despite having never met before.

The seasons offerings have been almost poetically typed out and wrapped around our napkins, reminding me how lucky I am to have a birthday in June. Broad beans, cherries, lemon sole, rhubarb, watercress and wood pigeon... The menu is designed to allow customers to experience a selection of the best seasonal ingredients that the team at The Chef's Dozen are most excited about. They work closely with a small core of quality producers too, and together the menu is practically written for them.

And what a menu it is; four similar sized courses for £45.00, with a choice of three for each - hence the dozen. Even on paper you can see Richard's flair for flavour without over-complication. There are just four or five ingredients listed for each dish, and no technical terms either; his cooking is highly skilled yet stripped back at the same time. Pretty much the ideal scenario. 

The Chap and I were greeted with some birthday fizz - a Rhubarb Royale made with Deutz Classic Brut Champagne and a rhubarb syrup - followed by an appetiser which had tangy flavours of buttermilk and lime (… I can't remember what it was - my bad).

Out came a perfectly-formed mini loaf of wholemeal bread, which we're informed is made using flour milled at a friends farm, with homemade butter and a dollop of snow white whipped pork dripping. Melting into every crumb, each bite was a naughty piggy treat. Game changing.

Ox tongue was my first course, rich and tender, hidden beneath piquant goats curd, gremolata and superfine discs of courgette; the only clue to its presence being the beefy liquor drizzling down the plate. FYI, serious plate envy.

The Chap had ordered a Chef's Dozen signature; rabbit raviolo served in its own consommé. Like a magicians trick, the flat round of pasta wasn't what it seemed; the underside harboured a generous nugget of confit rabbit, sauced with the clear gamey stock.

Having shunned the veggie option without thought, the kitchen sent out two plates as an extra course. Bright heritage tomatoes in red, gold and green lurked under the canopy of nasturtium leaves, It looked the epitome of summer, and with a Wigmore cheese cigar, crunchy granola and elderflower dressing it's put every other tomato salad I've ever had to shame. And shame on us too for dismissing it so hastily.

Being such a robust fish, my wild turbot's flavour still shone through its poultry counterparts; chicken oyster and chicken gravy. with a creamy turnip puree, cubes of pickled turnip, hazelnuts and, to bring the dish back to the water, sea aster. The Chap had lamb sweetbreads, which would have totally been my first choice had I not have had them relatively recently. Lifted with fresh and green flavours from the peas and sweet cicely, then given more richness with lardo, he barely uttered a word until putting his knife and fork down, longing for more.

For the final savoury course, The Chap continued on his meaty marathon with guinea fowl. The juicy bird was made earthy with wild garlic, braised snails, pearl barley and bone marrow sauce; both hearty and wholesome.

I, on the other hand, went for something a little lighter; pork loin poached in soured milk. I know, pork's not usually a lighter choice, but Richard's managed it. Still pink, the delicately flavoured medallions came with wedges of salt baked celeriac, apple puree and pickled walnuts. For those that fear the fattiness of pork, this is how you'll be converted.

A pre-dessert palate cleanser arrived, not that I can remember what it was (The Chap was driving, so I was too busy drinking the beaut bottle of Rustenberg... and these things are never written down). No complaints; our sweet tooth's were awoken. 

And so we arrived at our final course. Sad times. Struggling to choose, we planned on sharing; I ordered 'rhubarb and custard' - duck egg custard, rosemary and Arlette pastry - and The Chap picked the dark chocolate option, with toasted hazelnuts, hazelnut ice cream and a warm beer caramel that was poured over table side. It melted and oozed like hot lava, and with that our sharing idea went out the window - typical. It didn't matter, my classic combo was heavenly, and we were even given the third dessert to try too; lemon curd soufflé with vanilla ice cream. Nice, but no matter how many times I try, I still can't get on with the poofy sweet egginess (it's become a bit of a running joke with the guys from Lumiere - whoops!). That said, we still polished it off.

With the last of the evening sun glimmering through the windows, we sat back and looked round at the other diners; a handful of couples - young and old - a family with children, and a few friends catching up over some food and a bottle of wine. The Chef's Dozen really is a place for all. Not only did we have one of our 'top dinners of 2016', but the service was probably the best we've ever experienced too. We left full, with smiles from ear to ear, desperately trying to think of an excuse to return.

Bank Holiday Lunch at The Wild Rabbit Kingham

Last bank holiday Monday, The Chap and I took a leisurely country drive off into the heart of the Cotswolds. I say leisurely, it was p*****g it down - I totally wish we had this Mondays weather instead - still, we were in good spirits because we were off for lunch.

Kingham was our destination of choice; a gorgeous little village in the Evenlode Valley, Oxfordshire. We've swung by a few times before - I'd highly recommend Sunday lunch at The Kingham Plough - but this time we had a different agenda.

The Wild Rabbit is a name that crops up in every local travel guide, and is often highlighted as being the place to stay if you're after a luxurious Cotswold retreat. They class themselves as being a re-invention of the traditional English inn – a place to eat, drink and sleep - and by 'they', I mean the Daylesford team. That's right, with Daylesford Farm and the Bamford Haybarn Spa already residing in Kingham, it's no surprise that Lady Carole Bamford wanted to widen her organic empire by taking on this 18th century pub. It's become a dream destination for food and drink lovers, the health concious, and those just wanting to escape the city life. 

The Wild Rabbit's dining room serves lunch and dinner seven days a week. There's a separate bar menu for the pub side, which serves smaller, heartier fare for a few less pennies. Where possible they use organic ingredients from their own garden - picked fresh each morning and delivered straight to the kitchen - and their menu celebrates seasonal produce from local suppliers... You'd expect nothing less.

Michelin named The Wild Rabbit as 'Pub of The Year' in their 2015 guide - high praise indeed - so we were excited to test it out, and having previously seen Executive Chef Tim Allen on BBC's Great British Menu, we knew we were in capable hands. 

Quickly ditching the car in the car park (my bird poo splattered Seat didn't fit in with all the shiny new Range Rovers), first appearances were great; wisteria creeps across the front of the building, with comedy rabbit shaped bushes inviting you in. Inside, you immediately feel countrified with Cotswold stone, leather wingback chairs, aged wooden furniture, a roaring fire and a handful of pub dogs. The dining room is through the back, over the well; it's big and airy with lots of stylish decor, a long central table (looking after the tempting cheese selection), and the open kitchen in the corner. 

The menu is concise; five starters, five mains (plus two steaks), and five desserts (if you include cheese as an option). They have a decent wine list too, though seeing as I was designated driver for the day, I couldn't get involved. Instead, it was just the one Bloody Mary for me whilst The Chap had a couple of Hooky beers. 

Sourdough slices slathered with butter, we awaited our first course. I opted for Mackerel, served two ways, with Yorkshire rhubarb, pickled cucumber and frozen horseradish (£13.50). I loved the contrast of the flaky cooked mackerel against the fresh tartare, but it was the horseradish ice cream that really wowed me. The Chap went for the Quail; roasted breasts, Morteau sausage, smoked shallot, confit leg and lardo raviolo, with verjus reduction (£13.50). I politely only tried a teeny bit of quail seeing as it's such a small bird, and it was gorgeous. 

My main course was Rump of English veal, fricassée of braised veal, confit shallot, onion purée and baby capers (£26.00), that I ordered with a side of buttery purple sprouting broccoli (£4). That juicy pink rump was faultless; the onions and mushrooms gave the dish a deep earthy flavour, whilst the capers added bursts of acidity, ensuring it felt light and spring-like. 

The Chap went for the 10oz rib eye steak - dry aged for 40 days and cooked over charcoal - which came with hand cut chips, Daylesford leaves and a sauce of your choice (£30). He picked the tomato-y Bois boudran, a new one for the both of us. No matter how tasty it was, the fact it came on a small(!) wooden board with individual bowls for each component was a little frustrating. It might look neat for presentation, but it makes the logistics of eating near impossible. That said, the chunky chips were so good that all could be forgiven, and thank god they weren't stacked up like Jenga! With such a thick crispy casing, they almost verge on being classed as roast potatoes; I'll be ordering a portion 'for the table' next time. 

White Chocolate, gariguette strawberries, Yorkshire rhubarb and buckler sorrel (£8.50) was my final course - something I'd spied on social media before our visit. Not only do the ingredients have me written all over them, but it was the most photogenic dish of the lot. Bright with height, sweet but tart, and it had a great range of textures - I do love the snap of chocolate and the crunch of meringue. 

The Chap had the Cheesecake with Braeburn apple and caramelised honey (£7). I didn't get a look in on this one - it must've been good - but I admired the glass-like sugar disc on top before me and my phone were batted away so that he could enjoy his dessert in peace. 

We moved through to the pub to sit next to the fire with a coffee and the paper, and were surprised with a couple of freshly baked lemon syrup madeleines as petit fours. Such a nice touch, especially straight out of the oven. 

The Wild Rabbit is by no means cheap, but where is in such picturesque Cotswold locations? A three course meal with a drink and service averages at around £60 a head, and whilst everything was cooked beautifully, perhaps we expected to be a bit more excited for the money? We both agreed that the starters were our favourite course, followed by desserts, then mains - those chips come in a league of their own. 

We'll certainly go back - I can see myself escaping for hours in its rustic charm - but next time we'll just try out their bar menu, and maybe adopt a dog to join us.

The White Spoon, Cheltenham

If you hadn't already cottoned on, Cheltenham is doing pretty well for itself in the food and drink stakes at the moment. We had a bit of a surge of a few bigger chains finding homes in the town not too long ago, but now it seems the independents are taking the reigns, making sure Cheltenham lives up to it's classy reputation.

Last week saw the official opening party for the latest addition, The White Spoon. Fizz, the most incredible canapés (spoons of steak tartare and razor clams with ponzu cucumber give you an idea of the quality), wine tastings, and petit fours packaged up to take home, made sure that all the guests would be chatting about the 'new kid on the block' for weeks. Luckily for me, just two days before the launch, I had booked in for dinner; what a week!

Having taken over the site that was formerly the lemon yellow Cheltenham Dandy (8 Well Walk - a stones throw away from Boston Tea Party), The White Spoon is an unpretentious eatery headed up by Chef Director Chris White and his partner Purdey Spooner - hence the name. The whole family chipped in to transform the space into the elegant dining room it is today; special mentions go to Chris' dad who made the beautiful copper piping wall lights, and Chris' brother Andy who's taken the role of Front of House Manager. It's a real labour of love.

Although Chris is only a jaw-dropping 28 years old, he's worked in some great places, most notably Heston's prestigious Fat Duck group. These experiences have enabled him to cultivate his culinary enthusiasm, developing his own style using modern techniques. Primarily British, with a few global influences, Chris says that his food is generally a bit lighter; he's not heavy handed on the seasoning and doesn't over-do it with rich sauces, he simply lets the flavours of individual ingredients shine through.

Chris and Purdey want The White Spoon to be a relaxed environment, serving consistent high quality food and drink, just without the formalities of fine dining.

It was a cold and wet night when The Chap and I went, and as such it was quiet in the restaurant. Too often this kills the vibes; all diners feel awkward, you feel as though you're being watched like a hawk, and you have hushed conversations where you daren't say anything incriminating. It really didn't matter at The White Spoon. With soft lighting, ambient music and uncluttered surroundings, we could forget about the howling winds outside, and with the charismatic Andy looking after us, we felt right at home.

We started with the Plant Pot Bread (£2.00), which came with a duo of butters; Applewood smoked and salted. Cut into quarters, we greedily commented on how it had extra surface area for slathering butter on - every little helps - and whilst the smoked butter was bold in flavour, it was the salted butter that did it for me. Maybe I'm a bit of a purist, but with the bursts of anise coming from the fennel seeds, I didn't think it needed anything else.

*Apologies for the naff photos BTW, low lighting and a single tea light was never going to work in my favour.*

Goats Milk Custard, Goats Curd, Beets, Scorched Carrot, Cob Nuts (£7.50) was my first course. A plate of various goats cheeses can be a bit daunting for even the biggest goat-lover, but rather than the super tangy versions, this dish saw much more delicate flavours, quite like Ricotta, with only a small sliver of the intense cheese we're all familiar with. Beetroot is a classic pairing - naturally sweet and earthy - and the sugary beet shards, along with the freshness of the cobnuts, were a lovely touch. My only thought was that I was craving something sharp to counteract all the creaminess; pickled beetroot perhaps?

The Chap had Crab Tortellini, Shellfish Bisque, Lime, Borage, Brandy Jellies (£9.00), which was stunning. Three plump pasta shapes lay in the bowl, concealing the jellies underneath; the bisque was poured over and the dish came to life. It was the perfect balance of tart and sweet thanks to the lime, and wasn't punch-you-in-the-face shellfish either. The pearls of brandy held their own in the hot bisque too; they were incredible!

Main course is a tough choice for meat eaters at The White Spoon. With beef, duck breast and pork belly on the menu, how are you meant to decide?! I eventually opted for the unusual combination of Kelmscott Pork Belly, Wild Sea Bass, Smoked Potato Gnocchi, Butternut Squash, Salsa Verdi (£20.00). As a nod to the ol' surf n turf, I had to give it a go.

The pork belly was possibly the nicest I've had; it had the Goldilocks "just right" ratio of fat and meat, and whilst there was no thick layer of crackling on the top, crumbs of crackling gave a similar feel. The crispy skinned sea bass was just as well cooked, though put on the same plate as a hunky chunk of pork, there's no competition. This is where the other elements of the dish come into play; the salsa verdi gave the fish it's citrusy/vinegary accompaniment, whilst at the same time cut through the fattiness of the meat. Butternut squash added sweetness and the seared gnocchi added a bit of bite. Surprisingly neither made the dish feel too heavy - it just worked.

Blackened Gloucester Beef, Potato Terrine, Pan Roasted Carrot, King Oyster Mushroom, Onion (£22.50) - what The Chap ordered - seems to be the main attraction for The White Spoon at the minute. Covered in malt extract and thoroughly blackened with a blowtorch, the beef has all that charred flavour locked in before it gets cooked sous-vide style. Apparently someone had complained the previous week that the beef was too tender… Is that even a thing? Who are these people? Would they rather be chewing on an old cow to the point of jaw ache?!

Everything about the dish was heavenly - it's a must if you go - and it also went really nicely with our smooth and spicy wine choice; Santo Isidro De Pegôes, Touriga Nacional Reserva, Portugal 2012 (£22.00, also available by the glass or carafe). The wine list is excellent by the way, and from the launch party I discovered a personal fave, this one white; Gaia Wines, Wild Ferment Assyrtiko, Greece (£29.50). "Salty dry with lazer-beam precision and very funky wild ferment layering of complexity with oak wreathed with minerality." If you're an off-dry Riesling fan, then this is for you!

For dessert, the Coconut Parfait, Poached Peach, Ginger Ice Cream (£8.00) ticked all the right boxes. The soothing coconut snowballs were contrasted with the spicy punch of ginger and sticky sweet peaches. The thin fingers of ginger biscuits were a welcome texture, and I was glad that they were just strong enough to aid my scooping.

Toffee, Pear & Rum Bavarois, Walnut Crumble, Crème Fraiche Ice Cream (£7.50) was The Chap's choice. Bavarois might be a little more popular since it was on the Bake Off last month, but to be honest, I think it was the rum that sold it (we both could've taken a splosh more). Toffee, pear and walnut seemed very appropriate autumnal ingredients, and that crème fraiche ice cream... Not too sweet, not too sour; just delightfully - erm - fresh?!

Our first dinner at The White Spoon will not be our last; Chris and Purdey have created a restaurant that really deserves to do well in Cheltenham. Fancy but not fussy, attentive but not OTT, it caters for all occasions; date nights, business lunches, boozy catch ups with friends, or a big family dinners.

If you book a table, you won't be turfed out for another sitting; it's yours for the night. And if price is an issue, you can get 3 courses for £15.00 Tuesday - Saturday lunchtime, or until 7.00pm on Wednesdays and Thursdays. They even let you bring your own booze on a Tuesday, charging just £5 corkage, all of which goes to Maggie's Cancer Charity.

I already can't wait to go back.

*Although our dinner was comped by The White Spoon, these views are entirely my own*