It seems as if it had been quite recently refurbished, and the roaring fires were a welcome addition on a blustery May day.  The Inn specialises in fish, and offered quite a few specials in this line.

Mr Soup took one look at the menu and sprinted straight towards the antipasti with seafood; I was in a the mood for comfort food, so headed for the duck breast with parsnip puree and plum sauce.

Service was prompt, and complimentary bread, olives and water was a welcome touch.  Sadly, my duck was a little lacking, with the puree too sweet and the sauce strangely bland.  However, Mr Soup’s antipasti was, apparently legendary; I have rarely heard him rave so much or so long about a dish.  And on the strength of this rave alone, if we’re travelling down the A35 again, we will certainly be back.

The pudding list was perused, but nothing jumped out at us, so we politely declined, but maybe if we come back another day, I daresay we’ll be tempted.

Food: 9 (on the basis of Mr Soup’s rave); Service: 8; Value for Money: 8; Ambience: 8

Martyrs Inn, Tolpuddle, Dorset, DT2 7ES

Tel: 01305 848249

Despite just walking in, we managed to bag a table by the window, enabling us to watch the rolling waves as the sun went down.   The menu consists of fairly standard pasta and pizza dishes, with some additional meat and fish dishes for evening diners.

Mr Soup had a seafood salad, which he thought was terrific.  Beautifully chilled, crisp and refreshing – sumptuous is the word he used.  I plumped for an avocado, prawn and crab meat salad, which was pretty good, if not as startlingly good as Mr Soup’s.

Mr Soup followed with a typical choice for him – a Diavolo pizza.  As Mr Soup likes his food hot, he asked for extra chillis and was delighted to be offered chilli oil to jazz it up even further.  While pleasant, it apparently did not quite hit the mark on the heatometer for Mr Soup, but he concedes this is probably just personal preference.

I was still in search of comfort food, so opted for spaghetti bolognese.  The portion that arrived was huge, so I didn’t expect to get through the whole thing.  Disappointingly bland and filled with huge blobs of mince, I abandoned ship about a third of way through.

Unsatisfied, I nosed the puddings and went for a banana chocolate combination, which was a triumph.  Not too heavy, but sweet enough without being cloying, I devoured it single handed, despite the thoughtful touch of two spoons.  While not a memorably spectacular meal, Vesuvio does have a smashing setting worth the trip.

Food: 6; Service: 8; Value for Money: 7; Ambience: 8

Vesuvio, Seafront, Alum Chine, Westbourne, Bournemouth, Dorset

Tel: 01202 759100

As you might expect, there’s a whole ritual to the meal, which starts with drinks and selection of wine for the meal ahead.  The wine list is quite limited, with several offerings sold out, many of them those available by the glass.  This became a problem when we tried to select wine for the meal; our Edwardian servitor was somewhat mysterious about the food to come, as dishes are presented as part of the banquet, but this is less helpful when deciding which wine to select.  Having few wines available by the glass made our flexibility to match wine and food limited.  Having now experienced the banquet, my tip would be to start with white, unless you have a preference for red generally.

One is then escorted into the dining hall, a very imposing room, and having been formally introduced to the other parties, seated banqueting style.  The meal starts off with an hors d’oeuvre buffet, to which one is called in order.  This is a bit of a disadvantage if you’re last up, as we were, as there tends to be a dearth of some of the dishes.  Still it was tasty enough.

A soup course follows, in this case a perfectly respectable broccoli and stilton, and then the fun starts.  Dishes are produced and introduced for the third course and, feeling a little like we were in Hitch Hikers and being asked to meet the meat, Mr Soup and I plumped for the fish cake, which was delicious.

This was swiftly followed by a slightly seventies concoction of sorbet with grenadine and then the piece of dinner theatre billed as ‘Life of Lillie’.  A word of warning here.  This is the centrepiece of the evening, and started in fine atmospheric manner, as a pretty young lady in period dress entered and handed her bonnet to an obliging servant.

Then she opened her mouth.  The speech in itself is well written and covers Langtry’s life in appropriate fashion; however, on this occasion, it was delivered by someone who would be better kept waiting tables as she did the rest of the night.  Delivered in a manner more redolent of a head-girl struggling to recall the poem memorised for speech day, the lady in question managed to make her speech make laboured sense, as hearers had to piece it together from wrongly placed pauses even Pinter would find overlong, peculiar emphases and inappropriate inflections.  When there  are so many well qualified members of Equity without jobs, it seems a shame to have a pleasurable interlude marred by such amateur delivery.  Oh, and shoes; it looked like our Lillie was wearing a pair of oh-so fashionable, but oh-so anachronistic Uggs.  People always notice shoes…

We then tried to erase these memories by diving into the main.  Mr Soup had pork and his shiny plate suggests it was very tempting.  My roast beef was perfectly done, but was more in the manner of a well-executed Sunday roast than a restaurant with a reputation for fine dining. 

The meal was rounded off with an array of desserts, from which Mr Soup and I both selected the creme brulée.  This was well executed, all though served with a bafflingly lumpen piece of shortbread.

Langtry’s Restaurant is apparently know for fine dining, but don’t expect fine dining quality from the Edwardian Banquet.  The food is good, particularly considering the quantities it must be made in, but not outstanding.  The feature here is the experience which, if they could only remedy the problems with the theatrical interlude, would rate as high-grade fun.  Still, I bet Lillie herself couldn’t get the staff either.

Food: 7; Ambience: 9; Value for Money: 8; Service: 7

The Edwardian Banquet at Langtry’s Restaurant, Langtry Manor Hotel, Derby Road, East Cliff, Bournemouth, Dorset BH1 3QB

Tel: 0800 9885720

We were meeting friends here, and an on the ball member of staff immediately united us with our friends.  The rest of our party had already perused the menu, and as they informed us, there were lots of tempting choices.  After a difficult deliberation, I plumped for spiced pear and blue cheese salad, while Mr Soup went for prosciutto and melon.  Both of us were seduced by the rib eye with chunky chips.

Pear and cheese is a favourite of mine, and I was not disappointed with my choice; the cheese was plentiful, the pear a subtly spiced complement and salad nicely dressed.  Mr Soup’s melon was superbly ripe, and the prosciutto wended its way to Mr Soup’s stomach without so much as making a detour to my plate.

The rib eye turned up, as requested, medium for me and rare for Mr Soup.  The chips were large and fluffy, and although the steak was tasty, I found mine quite fatty.  The bearnaise was top notch, however.

Both Mr Soup and I declined pud, but one of our friend’s was delighted to discover that the chocolate pudding was gluten free and dived right in, while Mr Soup’s ma satisfied her sweet tooth with an excellent espresso ice cream.  All in all, after some disappointing experiences from this chain, my faith was renewed.

Food: 8; Service: 7; Value for Money: 8; Ambience: 7

Hotel du Vin Bistro, Southgate Street, Winchester, Hampshire SO23 9EF

Tel: 01962 841414

That’s why Indica in Bexleyheath is an interesting proposition; marketing itself as an upmarket Indian restaurant with a proper wine list and everything, it’s in an unlikely position on a quietish surburban street, and Mr Soup has been a great champion of it in the past.  I’ve not always been as impressed as Mr Soup, so we recently decided to have a lunch return visit.

We were told that lunch was served until 2.30, so duly turned up just before 2.  Getting seated was the first problem – given an empty restaurant with just one large, loudly sociable group as the other customers, we were first offered, somewhat inexplicably, a table right next to this group, and then were reluctantly given a table a smidge further away.  And then the waiter disappeared, leaving us menu-less and drink-free for a good ten minutes.

Eventually, he returned, offered us menus, and persuasively talked us into the Sunday Banquet, which for £10.95 offered us poppadoms, a starter, a main, a side dish and either a portion of rice or a naan bread.  This seemed like a great offer, so we gladly accepted and this was where the fun really started.

After perusing a menu which offered interesting choices beyond the usual curry house scope, we were ready to order, tempted by the new and intriguing dishes listed.  Mr Soup tried to order an joojey sheekh kebab, but was told that he couldn’t as the clay oven had been turned off, so we needed to choose things not cooked in this oven.  As we then proceeded to work our way down the starter list, it transpired that all the starters were cooked in their clay over.  Except the pakora.

Mr Soup went for the pakora but, having had more than one dodgy pakora experience in the past, I declined this culinary Hobson’s choice and turned my attention to the choice of mains, where, of course, the same restriction applied.  This meant that most of their specialty dishes were out of bounds, leaving the odd one or two that didn’t require the mysteries of the clay oven, and the usual offerings of kormas, danzaks and the like.

When even our choice of sides, breads and rice were restricted, I started to lose the will to go on.  Given that we’d phoned ahead, not being told about their limitations either on the phone or when we arrived was a dismal oversight, and I began to suspect we were actually being led towards whatever remained from their lunchtime buffet…

Mr Soup’s pakora was fine, nothing to write home about, and our curries, a chicken danzak for yours truly and a chilli chicken curry for Mr Soup (a rare escapee from their specialty list), smelt extremely appealing.  Alas, their smell was misleadingly optimistic.

While not offensive in any way, the curries were just hot, with nothing in the way of flavour, while the plain naan we’d grudgingly been given leave to order tasted of soap to a degree that I wondered whether it too was a survivor from the buffet and had been plucked from the washing up bowl.

At that, despite their best efforts to coax us into coffee and desserts, we decided to head off and cut our lossed.  Even the bill was badly handled, being compiled and handed over, but as we paid, was amended at the last minute and a cheekily undeserved service charge slipped in without the option to remove it.

All in all, an uninspiring visit.  While Mr Soup and I applaud the idea of this venture, it needs serious tweaking to justify its positioning.  This could be a  great asset to the area, with clean modern décor and an adventurous menu, but poor service, unexpectedly restrictive choice and average food do make for a happy time in this financial climate.

Food: 5; Ambience: 6; Value for Money: 5; Service: 2.

Indica Restaurant, 213 Brampton Rd, Bexleyheath, DA7 4SS

Tel: 020 8303 2899

A Cambridge institution, it has been hosting Survivors’ Breakfasts for bleary-eyed undergraduates for over a century and you can see why.  An idyllic setting in a romantically overgrown orchard, with natty green deckchairs informally gathered  around garden tables and children and animals romp in space large enough for them to do so.

The menu consists of lunches, snacks and afternoon teas, and not wanting to spoil our appetites, we plumped for a scone with cream and jam, and a bottle of the house white to set us up for the afternoon.  The house wine was pleasant, a little on the sweet side, but absolutely fine for a lazy afternoon.

The scone was absolutely enormous and Mr Soup, on eyeing its not inconsiderable proportions, had rightly decided that one between the two of us would be sufficient.  Notwithstanding its deliciousness, especially when combined with cream and jam, it defeated us with its ample size, but we weren’t complaining.  Other plates passed us with similarly enormous portions, and some time later, the plates were shuttled the other way, completely cleared, so obviously the other offerings here were equally enjoyable.

We lounged in deckchairs, quaffed wine and delighted in being alighted upon by the numerous butterflies.  The gardens were a favourite of Rupert Brooke’s and were immortalised in The Old Vicarage, Grantchester, and it’s probably changed very little since then.  The only question is why it’s taken Mr Soup six years to bring me here?

Food: 7; Service…was fine, as it was self-service and Mr Soup managed it perfectly; Value for Money: 8; Ambience: 9

The Orchard Tea Garden, 45-47 Mill Way, Grantchester, CB3 9ND

Tel: 01223 845 788

Since we last visited Chapter One, a couple of years back, the restaurant has had a swish refit, and really looks the part, with mood lighting, atmospheric black and white photos and decorative bead curtains.  As a Saturday night, it was buzzing as you would expect, although if you’re intending to have quiet conversation over dinner, you might request to be seated away from any large group tables.

The menu is an interesting, French influenced mix, and having thoroughly enjoyed ourselves last time, we were looking forward to this immensely.

I started with a Wood Pigeon salad, while Mr Soup tucked into the Langoustines.  Mr Soup went so far as to offer me a taste of his starter, a good sign that he is enjoying what he has ordered and wants to swank about his choice.  Having tasted both our starters, I thought they were both pleasant, but not, perhaps, earth shattering.  The Wood Pigeon salad was well dressed, the meat was plentiful and there was nothing actually wrong with it, but neither was it spectacular in execution.

Things picked up for the main course, with Mr Soup plumping for the Pork Belly and myself and one of our dining companions heading for the Quail.  This time, Mr Soup enjoyed his main course so much that he didn’t so much as offer me a taste, but plunged right in, and finished up with a shiny clean plate, so I’m guessing that it was very good indeed.  My quail was a definite improvement on the  first course; I have to admit, I didn’t really get a taste of the smoked bacon, but the quail and the foie gras worked perfectly together.  The taste was rich, but not cloying, and the red cabbage and raisin jus offset te richness perfectly.

Those of us not driving tucked into a very good Vouvray, which came in at £25; their wine list really is excellent, well priced, and definitely worth a peek.

Perhaps now would be a good time to make a comment about the service.  It was discreet, but perhaps not as attentive as it might be.  Even for a busy Saturday night, staff didn’t seem quite as on the ball as they might be, forgetting the ordered glasses of dessert wine (big disappointment there, as it was Deviation from Quady’s Winerie; Mr Soup and I are long-time fans of Quady’s Elysium, and Deviation is a new wine I hadn’t seen before) and muttering in low, indiscipherable tones that didn’t work in the busy atmosphere – from the diaphragm, chaps, please!  I was offered the choice of choosing from the cheeseboard, or having a selection made for me, but would have to hoik across the dining room to do so as the waiter muttered something half-intelligible about not being able to bring the trolley across for some reason; however, the thought of trying to converse with my soft-voiced servitor in this environment didn’t seem as if it would be a particularly edifying experience, so I left it to him.  And later, wished I hadn’t.

The cheeseboard ought to be a French-styled, Michelin-starred restaurant’s crowning glory; most of this board, I found a bit rubbery and bland.  However, I did manage to pinch a bit of the chocolate fondant, which was silky smooth and delicious, and a Chapters’ specialty from way back.  It used to come with a changing ice-cream accompaniment, however, whereas it was served this time with plain vanilla, which, though pleasant, was a less exciting choice than others I’ve had in the past.

Mr Soup had the assiette of desserts, and looked very pleased with himself indeed, even if he was finally defeated by a tiny square of chocolate, which he deemed ‘too rich’ after demolishing the rest of the plate.

Gripes on service aside, this is tremendous value from a Michelin-Starred restaurant; coming in at around £50 a head, I think you would be hard pushed to find food and wine of this calibre for a similar price elsewhere. 

Food: 8; Service: 5; Value for Money: 9; Ambience: 7

Chapter One, Farnborough Common, Locksbottom, Kent BR6 8NF

Tel: 01689 854848

Peter de Wit’s is well-known in Greenwich, famous for its lyric jazz sessions on a Saturday night.  The interior is bright, if a little cramped, with gaily painted chairs dotted about to liven things up.

Given the time of the day, we all plumped for the breakfast sandwiches, one sausage, one bacon and one veggie sausage, with a variety of beverages.  The service was prompt (although not being able to give change on what should have been the busiest day of the week was a bit of clanger) and the food and drink arrived quickly.

My tea arrived with a full jug of steaming water to top up the pot, which given the generous size of the teapot in the first place, I didn’t even manage to reach, and it set me up well for the rest of the day. 

However, the bacon sandwich, though pleasant, with a good amount of bacon and arriving on granary bread, was at the end of the day, a bacon sandwich, and I was hard pushed to see how it justified the £5 price tag.

While Peter de Wit’s cafe is much more pleasant than a fast food establishment, it seems to be trading a bit on it’s location in Greenwich to justify its prices, and while I might be tempted back for afternoon tea if I was in the vicinity, I might also be tempted to look around first.

Food: 7; Service: 6; Value for Money: 4; Ambience: 6

Peter de Wit’s Café, 21 Greenwich Church Street London SE10 9BJ

Tel: 020 8305 0048

However, while the place looks the part, the relaxed lunch itself is another matter.  The Walled Garden has recently changed hands, and while you might expect teething troubles, the standard of food and levels of service went beyond a few early wobbles.

They have a limited menu of food and drink, not necessarily a bad thing, but there were some bizarre choices – coke, but no diet coke?  What about those healthy drivers who want to cut down on their sugar intake?  The service was from the start over-eager, but sloppy, and this put me on my guard; I ordered the Welsh Rarebit, as I reckoned it would be fairly hard to muck up what is essentially cheese on toast.

Sadly, even this was over optimistic – the Rarebit, despite coming on nicely seeded bread, tasted of very little and looked like slop on toast.  Even the salad, which looked fine, wasn’t dressed, and needed it.  Staff who are unable to remember who ordered what just make it look like an amateurish operation.  I should say, in the Walled Garden’s defence, that Mr Soup had the quiche and really liked it.

Even dessert was a disaster.  Having abandoned the Rarebit halfway through (and no one asked whether there was problem when they took the plate away), I was starving, so eyed the dessert board with a covetous eye.  There were a couple of things I fancied on the menu, but who wants pie or crumble dry?  So I ordered a crumble with ice cream and this proved to be yet another hurdle in the pursuit of lunch.  They had ice cream, but only chocolate or strawberry – call me a purist, but Iwouldn’t put either of those with a pudding, unless it was an artful pairing of flavours. 

In this case, though, it was no carefully considered plan, merely their freezer was on the blink  – somehow they’d managed to rescue the aforementioned strawberry and chocolate, but the vanilla, alas, had gone the way of all flesh.  And obviously no one had thought to pop out to the nearest store (OK, rural Somerset, but not that far away) to grab a tub to live in the choc ‘n’ strawbs freezer.  I was offered cream, which I loathe, and custard, which I adore, but given their efforts with the rarebit, was not going to trust, so I refused pud.

Mr Soup’s pa took up the offer of flapjack, which arrived as an unadorned slab, and was placed, uncertainly, in the centre of the table as our hapless waiter again clearly couldn’t remember who had just ordered.

And this makes me sad.  This place has an awful lot going for it, and apparently the new management is a local concern, which I applaud.  You could see how its coffee area would teem with Mummies meeting during the week and the conservatory was made for a lingering lunch at the weekend.  However, it needs to sharpen up its staff and get to grips with the menu; then it might really start flower.

Food: 3; Service: 4; Value for Money: 6; Ambience: 8

Barley Wood Walled Garden, Long Lane, Wrington, North Somerset BS40 5SA

Tel: 01934 863713

So when you find somewhere in this locale that is reliable, pleasant and good value, it is to be treasured and such a treasure is Boulevard Brasserie.

As  the name suggests, it has a French influence, and as you would expect, given its location, it is expert at the pre/post-theatre dining, being able to turn around three courses in under an hour.

They have both a la carte, pre-theatre and offer menus, and having previously been very impressed with the offer (three courses, kir, £15), decided to give it a whirl again.  Vegetarians should note that the offer menu only gave one vegetarian choice per course, so picky herbivores might prefer the main menu.

My companion very much enjoyed her asparagus hollandaise, and my duck parfait with fig chutney was perfect.  As far as my dining companion commented, I believe that her main was fine, but my salmon fishcake was excellent.  How excellent is measured by the fact that I don’t usually like fishcakes and had chosen this in a vain attempt to be (kind of) healthy – the lemon cream was a great compliment to the fishcake.

The puddings were a bit of a mixed bag – my sorbets were nothing special, but the cheesecake apparently was fabulous – but for £15, that’s not a big moan.

The wine list is quite reasonable, and we polished off a bottle of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc which came in at the £15  mark.  Go, eat, treasure.

Food: 8; Service: 7; Value for Money: 9; Ambience 7

Boulevard Brasserie, 40 Wellington Street, Covent Garden, London WC2E 7BD

Tel: 020 7240 2992