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.

Love Liverpool

A fleeting trip to Liverpool for a family party meant that I could scout out a couple of good places to eat and drink for the weekend. As you might have figured out, I like to taste my way around new places, and I'm most definitely one of those people who comes back from holiday fatter, not fitter.

Free Waitrose coffee firmly in place in the cup holder, off we went through wind and rain, competitively counting Eddie Stobart's along the way (I lost - by quite a few). Having set off on empty tummies, first stop was breakfast. Indie run Bold Street Coffee has quite a reputation in the city, three years in a row they have won best coffee shop in the Liverpool Food & Drink Awards, so it was a no brainer really. Having always been a fan of the caffeinated bean, I'm finding myself more particular on how I like my daily cup these days. I'm not opposed to the big chains such as Costa or Cafe Nero (I never go to Starbucks though), but the whole queuing to order, queuing to take your own coffee to the table kind of thing isn't a pleasant experience when you're trying to enjoy the act of 'going for a coffee'. Lets face it, they all look identical anyway, so, when I'm off on a jolly, I always make a conscious effort to find a decent independent joint.

Bold Street is a place for serious coffee lovers; various beans, various brews, and they have not-your-standard-Twynings tea for those crazy haters too. It's not the sort of place with slouchy leather sofas and big comfy chairs; it's no frills tables, chairs and long benches. You'll probably be almost too close for comfort to the neighbouring couple, but it doesn't matter, they're either too engaged in work-related-chats over their laptops, or busy nattering and tucking into their food. Which gets me swiftly onto the food.. Bold Street have a superb breakfast menu to complement their coffees, and at the weekend they're available all the way til 4pm; perfect for those persistant hangovers (I sure wish this place was my local). They have all the traditional's - bacon sarnies, a range of eggs on toast, etc - but done a little posher (this is no greasy spoon), and there's a healthy supply of pastries to tempt you at the counter. What sealed the deal for me, however, was the french toast made with sourdough. I could have had it with bacon and maple syrup, but cinnamon apples and a butterscotch sauce sounded much more appealing; served with a dollop of creme fraiche, I'd put it up there as one of my best breakfasts.

The chap and I hit the shops hard after this (in search of the perfect knitted scarf for me - don't worry, I found one), but all that shopping is very thirsty work, cue afternoon beverage. At the edge of Liverpool One is Salt House Tapas; featured in The Times' 2013 Food List, this charcuteria and tapas bar/restaurant is another Scouse favourite. Had we not already planned our late lunch, this place would have been a definite contender for eats, with plenty of breads/chorizo/serrano on offer. As it was, we simply ventured in for a drink, the chap had a beer whilst I had a ginger/lemon/prosecco combination. Despite it's central location, this place seems like a laid-back-graze-as-you-like-it-retreat, and the service felt personal, so would be a great venue for a multitude of occasions.

A bit of a trek up the road, and we arrived at 'my suggestion' for late lunch. Situated within the Baltic Triangle, in place of what used to be the artspace A Foundation, you'll find Camp & Furnace. It's pretty unassuming from the outside, but being three warehouses wide, this is not your average venue. The bar area is a good place to start; one giant table in the centre of the room, sofas snuggled up to the roaring fire, and dark corners for those kind of days where you'd rather not be noticed. They have a nice selection of wines, spirits and craft beers; perhaps try Brown Bear, which has been especially brewed for C+F.

In contrast, the room next door is a vast open space. Primarily used for events (and fortunately for the chap, they show the footie - not so fortunate for me) the room comes complete with picnic benches, retro caravans, a stage and an abundance of fairy lights; I imagine the late-night happenings are where this place comes into it's own.

As for eats, C+F is a bit like street food meets pub grub meets fine dining. They have interesting soups, stuff on toast, bountiful salads, burgers (note the 'legendary' chorizo burger), roasts, etc; there wasn't a single thing on the menu that I wouldn't have eaten, which is pretty unheard of. Forcing myself to make a decision, I had braised lamb shoulder, with pistachio cous cous, olives, saffron aioli and a scattering of toasted seeds. It was both beautifully cooked and beautifully presented, which you'd probably not expect from a place that is essentially a warehouse. The chap had a more manly meaty meal of braised beef blade, crisp pancetta, smoked onions and egg yolk ketchup (he does love a condiment). If this is anything to go by, their Food Slam Fridays and Social Supperclubs must be amazing. Camp & Furnace is well worth the walk.

That's as far as my taste tourism goes, the rest involved a boozed up party, with a dodgy disco, even dodgier drunk dancing, and a lot of wine spillages on my new dress (good job it was white not red). On that note, I best go collect my things from the dry cleaners; maybe I'll go out in my curlers like those Scouse gals do..

.. Or maybe not. Til next time Liverpool!