Tuesday 16 November 2010

The Chequers Inn




The Chequers Inn
Main Street, Woolsthorpe by Belvoir, Grantham, NG32 1LU
Tel. 0845 2018718
www.chequersinn.net

The Chequers is a particular favourite of the Gastrosexualist and a regular haunt of his family. This 17th-century inn is situated a couple of miles from Belvoir Castle in the little village of Woolsthorpe, next to the local cricket field. Back in 2006 it formed the idyllic setting for the Gastrosexualist’s wedding reception and so there is something of an emotional investment. Imagine having a bad experience here? Surely it would taint the memory of so fine a day? Yet we visit regularly and never have we experienced a bad meal or anything less than excellent service (and do not expect to find it otherwise). Owners Jo and Justin Chad and their team did us proud and continue to do so. It is hard to beat as a charmingly intimate, attractive country hiding place, full of character with its lovely garden area, the dining rooms combining modern design flair with historic original features, a cosy bar overseen by a ferocious mounted boar’s head, and crackling open fires.
We made our way to The Chequers for a spot of Sunday lunch. I had pestered The Flower to stop for a cheeky pint at The Old Peacock in Redmile (well worth a visit as it is on the way, a decent pint of Bombardier in a snug room with low-ceilings, wooden beams and all the trimmings of a top country hostelry). Then it was up to Belvoir castle and down again, winding past sheep pastures to where the village of Woolsthorpe snuggles at the bottom of the hill looking like something out of an episode of Marple. The Chequers was agreeably busy - we opened the door to be greeted by a pleasing buzz of conversation and warm laughter. The bar has two large tables for informal drinking or dining which can be shared companionably. The Sunday papers were laid out and being swapped between customers. Some had just popped in to enjoy a friendly drink and fend off the November chill before the roaring open fire, more than a few couples had been walking dogs and these lay at their feet looking content. One or two regulars sat at the bar contemplating the decent selection of draught ales, lagers and extensive range of spirits (and over fifty whiskeys).
We ate in the red lounge (there are two other dining areas) next to another open fire, having opted for the very reasonably priced Sunday lunch deal of two courses for £11.95. We finished the drinks we brought in with us from the bar while enjoying freshly baked bread that was served to the table promptly – still warm, light and delicate, smelling deliciously. I soon dived into my starter of mushroom soup finding it pleasingly substantial, creamy and seasoned perfectly, with just a hint of garlic. The Flower was delighted to find battered squid on the menu and proclaimed the rings to be cooked just right, with a fantastic texture, the exact amount of bite and softness, and a tangy chilli jam that went extremely well with the generous serving. I found the main course of roast rib of beef to be spot on: a medium rare, melt in the mouth treat. It came with decent roast potatoes and a show-off Yorkshire pudding, a well-judged amount of meaty gravy completing a big plate. Try this with a large glass of Black Shiraz – delicious. The Flower’s individual fish pie was fantastic. Just what was needed on a cold day and comfort food at its finest: topped with potato and cheese, creamy and warming but letting the delicate flavours and textures of the fish shine through, in short a big hug of a dish. These mains came served with a selection of seasonal vegetables that were cooked just the right side of firm.
We finished this entirely satisfying lunch with a drink back out in the bar, lounging on an antique bench covered in a fur throw like something the witch from Narnia would drape across her sleigh. The fire was dancing merrily; the mounted boar’s head watched the lazy Sunday proceedings with a patrician’s air. We drank glasses of warm winter Pimms. At some point we would have to leave and step back out into the cold. But not right away.

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