Indian Fine Dining in Cheltenham: Prithvi

Prithvi is one of those places that's on every local food lovers bucket list. It's the swish Indian restaurant that won't fill your letterbox with takeaway leaflets, won't give you shoddily made curry, and certainly won't let you order chips as a side for your main (not that I'm a chip-o-phobe or anything).

Despite being so unassuming, it's the place that everyone in town talks about. The place at the top of most Cotswold based 'best restaurant' lists. The place in all the national food guides. The place that is notoriously hard to get a table at on a weekend... Essentially, it's the place.

Although I've been on a handful of occasions (see my post from '14), every time I walk past I find myself peering in at the lucky diners sitting in the window, desperately trying to see what they're eating. It's no good. I never get there at the right time. I only ever see empty plates - sigh - or people casually quaffing their wines - jealous - and the blinds are always drawn to the perfect height so I can't see any further in - humph. Still, it makes the green-eyed monster in me hungry for another visit and at the end of last year my luck came in.

You've probably seen all the posts from various local bloggers about 'Lunch with Prithvi' already - I hope you're not bored of reading about it - but because I couldn't attend the event, I did get an invite to return for dinner at a later date. Side note: Tuesdays and Wednesdays often have availability if you want to avoid the wait.

Prithvi has had a spruce up since our last visit - new furnishings, jazzy carpets, classy wallpaper - and it feels much better for it. Greeted by the owner Jay as you walk in, it all just makes sense. He's young, softly spoken but sharply dressed. There's not a thing out of place - both on him and the restaurant - with all the staff moving like clockwork. Seamless and suave, not stuffy.

The Chap and I hastily ordered a glass of the Brut Rosé fizz from Luxembourg (£8) recommended by the guys over the road at The Grape Escape (best place for pre dinner drinkies FYI), and then decided that we'd splurge on the wine flight to accompany the tasting menu. The only way to do it, right?

Appetisers arrive. A Quaver-like rice cracker with crispy kale and a cinnamon, mango and chilli gel, followed by panipuri; hollow chickpea puffs filled with spiced chickpeas and a fresh chutney. A tart tamarind sauce was poured in then down in one (as instructed). A whole host of textures and tastes, I'd order more if I could.

First course was pan-fried sea bass, white truffle oil, smoked tomato and mulli salad paired with Fess Parker Santa Barbara County Chardonnay, California 2014. The truffle hits you first with the spice creeping in after - an interesting combo which gets revisited later - but we couldn't help but feel that the fish was overcooked. Crispy skin, yaaaasss, but as the piece of fish was so flat, it was just a little dry. The wine match was the redeeming feature, no surprise considering my love of Cali Chards; the smoked tomato hit it off with the oakiness and the flavours lingered long after the last mouthful.

Next was tandoor Welsh lamb, cous cous and legumes with another USA wine, Smoking Loon Old Vine Zinfandel, Lodi, California 2013. Blushing lamb, so tender, with a green coriander sauce to add extra oomph. The dark berried wine was another good pairing, soft with subtle cedary notes bringing out the nuttiness of the cous cous.

Upping the game, Newent chicken, wild mushroom, whole coriander, anise sauce with sultana and almond rice. So succulent, and with the jewelled rice and glossy sauce it actually felt richer than the lamb. Never underestimate the chicken dish.

As for the wine, Jay tested us out with a few. Firstly, Domaine Roger-Joseph Belland Les Champs-Gains, Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru, France. An absolute beaut Burgundy, big with complexity, and with the buttery chicken alone would have ticked all the boxes. However, as soon as the fragrant anise made itself known, then it all got rather lost. It had spice, just without heat, yet we still agreed that it craved a wine with some sweetness. Jay then brought us over the Charles Sparr Gewurztraminer “Tradition”, Alsace, and the Werner ‘Annaberg’ Riesling Kabinett, Mosel, to try side by side with the dish. Styles you'd probably find us drinking on a weekend anyway, and like choosing children it was a tough choice. Both awesome, but the sweet spice and floral notes of the Gewurz did it for me. Save the Riesling for something hotter.

The star attraction was venison, butternut squash, ginger and cinnamon reduction served with a truffle oil naan bread. Indian and truffle aren't a likely coupling, but having it twice in one night has made me think otherwise, and truffle naan breads should definitely be a thing. Definitely. Chunks of rare venison and squash scream Autumn/Winter, and with a generous pour of the punchy ginger sauce, they'd well and truly been given the Prithvi magic touch. My one qualm would be the fact that our meat portions weren't quite even. I got the better deal with two thick pieces, but The Chap had one thick and one thin. Ah well. Quickly forgotten about whilst sipping the Pacifico Sur Carmenere Reserva, Curico Valley, Chile 2015, full of blackcurrants and black pepper.

The Tour of Prithvi ended with Passion fruit cream, mango gel, coriander and honey crumble. I think we're all more accustomed to an After Eight being brought out with the bill, but here we had an assortment of sweet treats. Fresh and fruity, with cream to soothe those taste buds and coriander to add a herbal citrus note; we're still in an Indian restaurant after all. Lenz Moser Prestige Beerenauslese, Burgenland, Austria, was our final wine of the night. Equally sweet with velvety honey notes to tie in with dessert. Happy endings.

Whilst we're not short of fine dining options in The Cotswolds, nor places to scoff a Ruby Murray on a Friday night for that matter, the unique line that Prithvi draws between the two certainly is something rather special. The food and service sure have gone up a notch or two since our last visit, so it's no surprise that tables are still so sought after and the dishes remain memorable.

Jay's pride beams throughout, making it an utter joy to experience everything that is Prithvi. Let's just keep our fingers crossed for more truffle naans when we return.

Prithvi is open for dinner Tuesday - Saturday and lunch on Thursday and Saturday. The tasting menu is £53pp, and they reopen from their annual holiday on January 19th. Get booking!

Markham Farm British Asparagus at The Lucky Onion

As the weather starts to warm up and the evenings begin to get lighter, we mark the sign of an exciting new season. Gone are those hearty winter stews with comforting carbs aplenty, now's the time to put a spring in your step and embrace all things green and fresh. And other than the sight of little lambs leaping around the nearby fields, I can't think of anything more synonymous with this change than the first bite of British asparagus.

It can be such a struggle to eat the seasons when supermarkets are saturated with fruit and veg from across the globe, but seeing the healthy glow of the fat British spears in comparison to the limp or woody kinds you get throughout the rest of the year, it's pretty obvious why we should.

And so we come to The Lucky Onion, who are no strangers in promoting seasonality to their Cotswold customers. Last summer we were treated to an offer for lobster, chips and fizz, in autumn there was partridge and port, at the start of 2017 saw six Wright Bros oysters and a glass of Nyetimber, and now we have a celebration of all things asparagus.

Director of food Ronnie Bonnetti, ex River Café and Soho House, has created a selection of dishes with locally grown Markham Farm asparagus as the focus. Until July you can go to any of The Lucky Onion establishments and pick one, alongside a glass of Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc, for just £15 (though The Tavern's not included). Perfect lunch material.

Just before the offer launched in April, a whole bunch of fellow food lovers were invited to No. 38 The Park to test out the menu, and with the Cloudy Bay wine supplier on hand, we were definitely well watered too. Sauvignon Blanc is a classic pairing with asparagus - they often share similar grassy flavours - and New Zealand's Marlborough region is probably the most popular choice. We're all familiar with it, right? 

Grapes packed with punchy, crisp acidity can be an assault on the senses after a while, so I was so chuffed to find that we were being treated to other Cloudy Bay vinos too. Never-ending coupes of Pelorus non-vintage fizz were served before supper; 60% Pinot Noir and 40% Chardonnay, it had a quenching citrusy spritz more akin to an English Sparkling Wine over a toasty Champagne or sweet Prosecco. One I'll keep an eye out for. There was also a lovely Pinot later on in the evening; vibrant, youthful and perfect for drinking in the sunshine.

But back to the food... The first to come out was asparagus with Cacklebean poached egg and hollandaise. Those eggs (along with the chickens) are like local celebrities round here, and the rich orange glow from the runny yolk in contrast to the pastel coloured hollandaise is a thing of beauty. It tastes pretty beautiful too, just make sure you save some bread to mop every last morsel up off the plate; it's messy business.

Next was asparagus with brown shrimp butter. Pretty self explanatory. For something so small, brown shrimp sure make themselves known, and whilst I loved the flavour, there was something that didn't sit quite right with me. A few spears of asparagus don't get the chance to stay hot for too long, meaning the butter never really has the opportunity to melt. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually the first to be having bread with my butter, but I couldn't help but think a more liquidy shrimp butter would be better.

Saving the best until last, out came the asparagus with air dried beef, pea shoots and parmesan. The bresaola, from London charcutiers Cannon & Cannon, is nothing like the stiff cardboard kind you get pre-packed in the supermarket. It has such a clean flavour that it almost tastes sweet against the salty tang of the parmesan, and together with the greens it sings of spring. A total delight.

Now whilst you could just choose one dish to have with your glass of wine, it can be very tricky to make such a decision, so let me pose this idea to you... Chances are that you won't be dining alone, but if you were thinking of it be sure to grab a friend. Order all three dishes and get the three measures of Sauvignon Blanc put into a carafe, get a side of fries and have an asparagus sharesies feast fit for a king (or queen). It's a good idea, trust me. 

So be sure to visit No.131, The Chequers, The Wheatsheaf Inn and The Wild Duck soon to take advantage of The Lucky Onion's Markham Farm offer, but in the meantime here are some pointless asparagus facts...

• Asparagus can help cure hangovers and protect the liver against toxins… Though I can confirm that it did not prevent an almighty hangover the day after ALL THE CLOUDY BAY WINE. Ouch.
  
• Dubbed the Usain Bolt of the veg world, British asparagus can grow up to 10cm in one day!
  
• And apparently it can improve your libido. Let's just end it there.

Oyster Master Class at Bentley's London

When you get an invitation to an Oyster Master Class, it's pretty rude to decline the offer isn't it? And when it's at the prestigious Bentley's Oyster Bar & Grill - 'The Grand Dame of Swallow Street' in London's Piccadilly - it really is impossible to say no.

Having been there since 1916, it's currently under the watchful eye of the Michelin starred Chef Richard Corrigan, and is still famously serving up the best seafood fayre from the British and Irish Isles. Oysters and fizz (obvs), lobsters, langoustines and the freshest fish around. You can go all-out-fancy, sure, but you can also just get some honestly cooked fish and chips. No messin'. I've had a tip off that the Fish Pie is an absolute dream too... I've added it to the list.

Shucking nearly 1000 oysters a day, Bentley’s is somewhat a flagship institution for the best oysters prepared by London’s most knowledgeable teams. So to celebrate this, they run an Oyster Master Class on the third Saturday of every month costing £65 per person. You get to experience different varieties of oyster, learn how to open and prepare them at home (without injury), and ultimately have some fun with a constantly filled glass of Champagne. Perfect if you fancy gaining a niche skill, but it also has excellent date potential *wink*.

Feeling smug as I left work early to go on a jolly to London, the smile soon disappeared when my train ditched its destination, abandoning all passengers in Swindon. Ugh. And then when I finally made it to Paddington an hour and a half later than planned, the bloody Bakerloo Line was closed. Double Ugh.

 

Fourty minutes late, having missed the start of the class, I was quickly introduced to Master Shucker Helio Garzon and thrust a much needed glass of Champagne and a variety of oysters. Instantly all was fine and my nightmare journey forgotten about. The class takes place at the long bar, so it's pretty relaxed anyway.

Catching up, I soon got up to speed on the difference between Native and Rock, knocking back a fair few of each. Natives are the flatter round shelled ones that are wild, and only harvested in certain months of the year (where the saying comes from that you should only eat shellfish during the months with an R in). Rock oysters are the tear drop shaped ones, which are quicker to grow, and farmed all over the UK.

Simply a squeeze of lemon and a crack of black pepper is how to best compliment the saline creatures. There's Tabasco and shallot vinegar if you really must, but I'm defos in the nearly naked camp; I want to taste the sea!

We then learnt how to shuck our own, with some success and some failure. Helio made it look so easy, but it certainly takes some guns to slide the knife into those shells. I'm pretty sure I was battling with mine for a good five minutes, though I'm assured I'll get quicker with practice. Anyway, with all digits still in tact, and countless oysters down, we then moved onto the different ways you can cook them.

Out came a selection of breads, of which the treacly Irish soda bread was the standout - no surprise with Richard Corrigan being the owner - and the seaweed butter really was the best I've had. We had wine to match too; a refeshing Picpoul de Pinet from the Languedoc. A classic fishy accompaniment, and with the richness of some of the cooked oysters, the acidity was spot on.

We were instructed to start with the Vietnamese; "cooked" like ceviche in its own spicy lime dressing with crispy shallots and teeny shoots of coriander. Probably a good choice for anyone who hasn't eaten oysters before and wants to try them; the texture's basically the same, but there's a bit hit of flavour to ease you in. Next I went for the one which was deep fried and served with a sizzling slice of chorizo and a squeeze of lime. Salty, smoky and tasty, but frying them is not quite my thing.

All the health benefits of an oyster had well and truly been eliminated with the one baked in garlic butter and topped with crunchy breadcrumbs. YUM. And finally the Florentine, accompanied with wilted spinach and a citrusy, buttery hollandaise, was a hit with us all.

Feeling rather boozy and verging on having an oyster overdose, I left Bentley's with a swanky goody bag, which contained a stripy chefs apron, a shucking knife, Richard's recipe for an Oyster Croque Monsieur, and an Oyster Passport so you can make notes and keep tabs on what oysters you prefer. I'm hoping I'll be an expert in no time.

If you like the sound of Bentley's Master Class, then check on their website for dates and availability. It really was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon in London, and I've even used my new shucking skills since... Helio would be proud.

‘A slice of old London, lovingly revived by people who really care about such things’ 

Tim Hayward, Financial Times

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.