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.

Nostalgia!

While researching for a review on The Chequers at Woolsthorpe by Belvoir, I came across a copy of their menu for the Gastrosexualist's wedding reception in 2006 that I helped create. Fabulous dishes, you don't often get these choices for a wedding! Wonderfully cooked. Everyone was in raptures. A fantastic job.

Starter

Chequers pate, toasted brioche and red onion marmalade
Seared salmon, Mediterranean chutney, char-grilled foccacia

Main course

Roast loin of pork and crackling, roast potatoes and seasonal vegetables
Chicken and leek pie, new potatoes and seasonal vegetables
Pan fried Monkfish, Sauté new potatoes, green beans and tomato butter sauce

Pudding

Tarte au citron with a raspberry coulis
Chocolate and hazelnut truffle cake

The Moorings Bar & Restaurant
34 Castlegate, Newark, Notts NG24 1BG
Tel. 01636 611118
www.themooringsrestaurantandbar.co.uk

“You are talking about the Goldilocks zone,” stated The Gastrosexualist, slipping into lecturer mode. “Scientists are using it all the time these days in connection to the search for extra-solar planets, planets light years away beyond our solar system, Earth like worlds that might potentially support life.”
“How is that connected to this?” The Flower asked. She gestured at her starter of cured salmon, toasted brioche and poached egg. It sat before her on a pristine plate, the cutlery gleaming, glasses sparkling, on a table polished and clean.
First a sip of the French house red, the 2008 Baron d’Arignac: smooth, tangy, fruity and eminently quaffable. “Well the orbit of these planets must lie within a particular zone - neither too close nor too far from their sun, neither too hot nor too cold – in a position just right. Like Earth... and, yes, kind of how Goldilocks’ described her porridge. And as you put it just a moment ago, this starter is just right: portion size, temperature, seasoning, mix of ingredients, a perfect combination of elements, simply perfect little dish.” Regretting the explanation I dived back into the starter, noting how a clever addition of balsamic glaze to decorate the plate helped bring the dish together even more. A feather-light sweet brioche, fabulous poached egg oozing unctuous yolk as soon as my fork brushed it, fresh and flavoursome salmon, that lip-smacking touch of balsamic.
We have come today to The Moorings, an exciting and vibrant new venue in Newark. This bar and restaurant is situated in what was once an old coaching inn, dating as far back as 1770. You can find The Moorings sitting plumb in the shadow of Newark castle overlooking the river Trent and the town lock. It can be approached from two sides – the river itself (nice little walk this) or from the road and through into the courtyard it shares with the fabulous Just Beer Micro pub (highly recommended for real ale connoisseurs). The Moorings aims to dazzle with a sexy and sophisticated first impression. It aims for drama. The bar area boasts funky design touches and fun, vibrant colour mixed with sassy tones and swanky velvet. A great range of drinks are on offer here and the bar menu with its sharer platters, chunky sarnies, hand cut chips, olives, soup and freshly made bread is mighty tempting for a generous snack. There is a separate dining area which is modern but comfortable, full of sparkle and flair yet warm and relaxing. Overhead candelabras glitter opulently and light-toned oak beams show the character of the venue but do not overwhelm. It is an intimate space and well-laid out managing ample room between the tables. The smartly uniformed staff members work the restaurant well and are charming, knowledgeable and professional.
The lunch menu is wisely pared down but offers some tantalising choices with two courses at £11.95 or three at £15.95. As mentioned it was the salmon starter for both of us, followed by a locally sourced 10oz rump steak for me (note a £5 supplement but well worth the extra cost) – grilled medium rare and perfectly succulent and juicy (best I’ve had for some time in fact). This was served with hand cut chunky chips cooked in proper fat, seasoned well, a nice sized mushroom and a lovely side salad. The Flower, feeling daring, opted for the blue swimmer crab and prawn risotto which hit the spot nicely, not too creamy, great consistency, fresh meaty crab but not overpowering , lemony but not sharp, with plump prawns bursting with flavour. The Gastrosexualist also eyed up the lemon and thyme roasted chicken, this being served with new potatoes and a French bean and shallot salad to a table nearby - it looked (and smelled) divine.
The Moorings impressed. It has passion. There is nothing quite like this restaurant and bar in Newark. It could have been let down by mediocre, so-so food that failed to live up to the hype and promise of its glamorous image but menu, presentation, sourcing of ingredients, skill of the chef and flavour of the dishes made this venue an absolute treat.
Try it – you can even slip in the ad hoc astronomy lecture if you dare.

La Parisienne
12 King Street, Southwell, Nottingham, NG25 0EN
Tel. 01636 816573

"Where did you get that skirt?" asked The Flower to the waitress of La Parisienne, as if a couple of hours spent trying on dresses in the boutiques of Southwell was not enough of a fashion fix. Usually it is left to The Gastrosexualist to open up the conversation and get straight to business. I would have started out with a boring question asking about the specials of the day, the wine list or the history of the venue – yes, all too predictable. Clearly, The Flower was feeling suitably relaxed given the intimate, friendly venue - a single dining room with low ceiling, wooden beams, shabby chic ornaments promoting a French-Moroccan theme, charming little windows through which passers-by can peer at contented diners, no more than ten tables in an informal setting and the one busy but attentive and smiling young waitress. Rather lovely too (a comment which I make now but would have earned a swift kick on the shin had I said it aloud).
You cannot miss La Parisienne. Plumb position on the Southwell high street and the only restaurant of note amongst all the cafes, an old little terraced cottage just the right side of twee with a happy red door. Specials boards outside boast classic French cuisine and some temptingly different Moroccan fare (and you will note that the prices are very reasonable).
We popped in for a weekday lunch and the place was bustling. Again, there are only a few tables and so it is advisable to book early for evening dinner. We were lucky and managed to bag a choice table from which to observe the room. Nicely unfussy, La Parisienne allows the food to be the star and speak for itself. There was an appreciative crowd tucking into perfectly portioned, fresh and tasty looking dishes and enjoying teas and coffees with indulgent cakes, and that one hardworking waitress navigated the room smoothly.
A great looking bistro menu was offered for lunch, with all the usual suspects lined up - Croque Madame, Bœuf bourguignon, Coque au vin, and soups and omelettes - but with some flavoursome and intriguingly different dishes to choose from. I rather liked the sound of Tartiflette au Reblochon, a bake of potatoes, shallots and white wine topped with Reblochon cheese (there is another option with bacon) or Loup de Mer façon Boulangère, a fresh sea bass cooked boulangere-style with potatoes, tomatoes, bouquet garni and saffron. However, I could not resist the temptation of a personal favourite: Moules Marinière et frites, done perfectly with white wine, parsley, garlic and onion without cream, the moules plump fellows, well-seasoned and lip-smacking, the broth light and zingy (make sure you ask for a spoon), the frites crisp, then yieldingly delicious – very well priced given the quality and quantity at £7.95. I would have been in heaven if this came with some crusty homemade bread. The Flower went for the special of the day, priced similarly, an individual tajine of chicken cooked with peas and courgettes, the chicken’s flesh falling from the bone and melt-in-the-mouth succulent, the Moroccan spices and seasoning creating a very different very delicious freshness. We washed this down with glasses of house white, a Sauvignon Blanc that went extremely well with the meal, and at only £3.50 a glass it certainly did not leave a sour taste.
This is a charming, hearty, intimate and honest little venue. La Parisienne is well worth popping into if you are visiting Southwell during the day and is certainly one to consider if you are thinking of an evening dinner somewhere a bit different, a restaurant where you will not feel slaved to a soulless, polished culinary conveyer belt.
Oh, and the skirt came from Top Shop it turns out.

Piccolino
7 Weekday Cross, Nottingham. NG1 2GB
0115 9472169 piccolino.nottingham@piccolinorestaurants.co.uk

The Gastrosexualist has worked out that, on an average shopping trip to Nottingham with The Flower, he must spend at least 1.5 hours languishing outside of changing rooms. I began counting the pit stops and clocking up the time this Saturday. As usual I was dragged from one bewildering boutique and emporium to another, suffering a little from the night before, wincing as music throbbed from speakers, as distressingly young shoppers pushed by me (is not All Saints the most terrifying place?). T. S. Eliot has Prufrock measuring out his life with coffee spoons; I had a growing mound of shopping bags (not mine) to testify to hours of a rare weekend off being wasted. And on it went, the wife disappearing behind another set of curtains, in another changing room, a magician about to perform her trademark trick, the feat of ‘see how much time one person can make vanish in one day’. There was but a single saving grace in being martyred to this kind of shopping. At least I could make The Flower feel guilty enough to allow the odd cheeky pint along the way, and to concede the choice of lunch venue. Nothing wrong with a little leverage...
I have been meaning to try Piccolino for ages. This is a good looking central venue complete with terrace seating for pavement dining, next to the Weekday Cross memorial, just across from the tram lines, well positioned amongst other popular chain bars and restaurants. It fits in well here. It is modern, vibrant and professional. It boasts a shiny, well-stocked cosmopolitan bar area in which to unwind with post-work cocktails and confidently displays an open kitchen complete with roaring pizza oven for added theatricality. Seating in the tidy dining area is comfortable; the room is light, the atmosphere cheerful and buzzing. Service is confident, knowledgeable and friendly. Piccolino stands as a superior choice to Pizza Express or Zizi for a break from the shopping. I am not being dismissive about these two, having enjoyed perfectly tasty lunches in many branches over the years (and Piccolino itself is part of an established chain of eateries with restaurants dotted around the country). Part of the attraction with a Pizza Express is that you know exactly where you stand and what you will experience. You are familiar for the most part with the menu. It is standardised. You can coast. You have chosen to switch on the autopilot. These restaurants are safe choices where there are ‘no alarms and no surprises’ (apologies to Radiohead). However, Piccolino is not as well known on the high street and therefore more of an exciting prospect. I much prefer its seasonal menu which is varied, surprising and offers tantalizing daily specials with more of a brassiere feel. I would (and certainly will in the future) come here for evening dinner. There is much more to engage with here. Piccolino provides a relaxed, unhurried dining experience with a more intimate feel.
To me the sign of a good menu is that it can tempt you with new possibilities, leaving you ‘umming’ and ‘aahing’ over the choices rather than fall back on tried and tested dishes again and again. Once seated (surrounded by The Flower’s shopping bags) with a bottle of Terrazze della Luna Merlot we began to weigh up options assisted by a very helpful member of staff. She clearly knew the menu (more importantly she had enjoyed the food herself) and was interested enough in her customers to ask questions and advocate favourites. I succumbed to the hearty and warming temptation of one of the day’s specials: Cannelloni, woodstone baked with slow cooked beef, tomato & pecorino cheese sauce. It was the best example I have tasted in years. Rich, creamy, perfectly textured, all I missed was some fresh bread to mop up the sauce. The Flower opted for Spiedini (or skewers) of king prawns, scallops and salmon in oregano, chilli and lemon. This was generously portioned – three skewers of succulent seafood, charcoal-grilled, zesty and tingling with that chilli bite, and simply delicious. We shared a mixed salad which was fresh and well-dressed with a subtle dash of oil. We followed up with a Tiramisu which fell short of perfect as I, personally, would have like more of a boozy wallop from it.
As we made to leave we were met by the manager. Had the Gastrosexualist been rumbled? Perhaps too many questions about the sourcing of ingredients or had I been overheard waxing lyrical after the wine about the balance of garlic, lemon zest and fresh parsley in a perfect gremolata? Whatever it was, here was the manager offering to show us around the kitchen! Surprised, and more than a little bashful, we followed him and were introduced to the kitchen team and there we stood - invaders in their territory. It would be unlikely that a kitchen designed to be visible to diners would be anything less than spick & span and could never be ruled by a bullying, mouthy egotist bellowing orders louder than the private conversations at tables. Safe to assume therefore that there would be no revealingly negative impression to be gained from this exercise and only positive word of mouth. Of course the kitchen at Piccolino looked immaculate. It was so unlike the kitchen of the country hotel where I once worked my way through university that it belonged to a different universe. This was clutter free, clean, organised and superbly run. Oh the enticing aromas, the sizzle of meat cooking, the bubbling sauces, and the all too delicious ingredients arrayed... I had to be dragged away. In an ideal world I could have stayed all afternoon watching, picking up recipes and techniques. But the shops were waiting and so, resigned to my fate, I followed The Flower out of the restaurant and into the crowded bustle of a Saturday afternoon in Nottingham. There were hours of forced-shopping left to face. Such is the lot of the Gastrosexualist that he understands the balance of sweet and sour in more than just a recipe.

Jackson’s Restaurant
The Old Vicarage Boutique Hotel

Westhorpe, Southwell, Notts. NG25 0NB
Tel. 01636 815989
www.vicarageboutiquehotel.co.uk

Two courses for £10 on a lunch menu... as tempting as that sounded to the wallet I could not help but hear warning bells and feel a frisson of concern. The Gastrosexualist is not cheap but these recession days I admit to being more flash than cash. As great a deal as that sounded (let’s face it that is bloody good value) I was struggling to think of a quality venue serving up food at this price in the Nottingham area and one that could be trusted. As the cynic in the critic began to warm to his theme I tried to convince The Flower that, after a morning shopping in Southwell, I didn’t want the day ruined by a cut price lunch with second rate ingredients and budget cooking slaved to a marketing scheme. But the wife had heard exciting things. Well I can testify that on this occasion I was absolutely, emphatically delighted that she had her way. The Old Vicarage is a treat. The special lunch menu delivers fine dining excellence at a more than affordable price. The ingredients are top notch. The cooking is assured and delivers familiar, comforting dishes with flair. The lunch menu does exactly what it is intended to do: get the word out there, inspire positive word of mouth, it tempts you to make a future reservation and try the more expansive and expensive dinner menu.
So I was grumbling and not exactly receptive as the Beer Wagon made the short journey from Southwell’s shops and along Westhorpe. Yet The Old Vicarage won me over immediately. It had me with the sound of a long gravel drive crunching beneath the wheels as we pulled into the car park. A sound that to The Gastrosexualist equates to family gatherings and special meals, reminding me of visits to Grandparents and their old, rambling cottage; of those immense Sunday dinners, table groaning under the weight of all that food, stately dining with gleaming silverware and antique crockery, the best gravy I have ever tasted, my stolen sips of wine as a child, and the barely disguised dysfunction, subtle nuances and secrets that characterised our family gatherings. Yes, I’m a sucker for a venue with a gravel drive.
The Old Vicarage looks impressive and makes an impact with its stately exterior, driveway and fountain, but it is the interior spaces that really have the wow factor. We were welcomed at the door by a member of staff, chic and professional in a black dress, and led smoothly within, her heels making a reassuringly up market sound on the expensive flooring. The interiors have been thoroughly modernised following a two year renovation – an elegant reception area, two well-appointed lounges equipped with state of the art televisions (managing the neat trick of being both cool and comfortable), a showcase bar area which would not look out of place in a hip Manhattan hotel, and Jackson’s restaurant itself which is pristine and spacious with just the right hint of opulence to ease you into the mood for indulgence. By the time we were shown through to the decking where we had chosen to eat looking out on an extensive garden, I was reassured and certain we were in for a memorable lunch. Everything was so professional, so polished.
The Flower opted for a starter of grilled local Asparagus which came artfully served on slate, with a poached hen’s egg, parmesan shavings and grain mustard. Again that balance of style and substance, and the Asparagus was perfectly succulent. I chose a simple Caesar Salad served with some wonderful individual ingredients – tasty home smoked chicken, roasted garlic, fresh anchovies and quail’s eggs. A great dish treated sympathetically here, the mingling of flavours sublime. I could have polished this off as a main. We followed up with The Flower’s trusted favourite of Beer Battered Fish and hand cut chips with mushy peas and homemade tartar sauce. This met her exacting standards. I went with the Old Vic Burger served with cured bacon and homemade relish and a fresh salad. The burger (a good test of any kitchen) proved well-seasoned, medium rare, juicy and substantial bringing a smile as I remember it. Just today I paid £7.95 for a house burger at another establishment and found it under seasoned and bland in comparison to The Old Vicarage’s exemplary version. Again, simply unbeatable value and for £10 each the quality of the food was a welcome surprise. On a minor note of caution however, if you like a drop with your lunch like The Gastrosexualist then The Old Vicarage boasts a fabulous wine list but, boy, it ain’t cheap, and there are no draught beers for our ale connoisseurs. That said I was delighted to discover a personal favourite on the list, the Stump Jump Shiraz 2007. A couple of large glasses of this heady number with its touch of cocoa and spicy wallop of cherry, blackberry and raspberry fruit will prove more expensive than your two course lunch. But by then you will be too happy to care.

Farndon Boathouse
The Riverside, Farndon, Newark, Notts. NG24 3SX
Tel. 01636 676578 info@farndonboathouse.co.uk

Now and again – weather, mood and level of sobriety permitting – you can just about will your mind free from everyday concerns and, caught up in the moment, forget how finite the weekend is. For no more than a few fleeting hours on a Friday night, or a transient and tragically short sense of release on a Saturday, you can almost convince yourself that the working week is not waiting to ensnare you in its gears once more. Perhaps, given the right venue, you can picture yourself being on holiday and enjoying an unhurried lunch beneath unblemished skies. That feeling of escape is not something The Gastrosexualist thought to discover by the banks of the River Trent near Newark. Yet there it was: the perfect combination of glorious Saturday weather, a great location for al fresco lunch, fantastic service, great decor, chilled out music and the enticing aroma of skilful cooking, everything meshing in order to create this wonderful illusion.
The success of The Boathouse at Farndon is certainly not illusionary. Voted runner up in the ‘best newcomer’ and ‘best out of town venue’ categories in the 2009 Nottingham Restaurant Awards it generates plenty of buzz in the area and is always being recommended. The Gastrosexualist is not one to put awards above positive word of mouth from trusted sources, yet there has been plenty of affirmation for this stylish, polished, modern and exciting venue from the team behind Tom Browns at Gunthorpe and the newly opened Riverbank on Trent Bridge (a visit in the offing soon). One friend makes the trip to The Boathouse on the strength of the fat (triple fried) chips alone; another (a scoundrel we shall call ‘Papa’, not for his dubious taste in the age of partners I hasten to add, but for his Hemmingway-esque, macho leanings) calls the place a “deal maker”. When pressed Papa, notorious womaniser, points out that The Boathouse looks so good and so classy that it appears he is making an enormous effort, thus impressing his date. Style by association one might suppose.
Just the other day, after a trip to bustling Newark Market (we are always in need of some triple smoked bacon from Porter’s, the butchers just off the square opposite HSBC bank) we decided to treat ourselves to lunch. Turning off the A46 and heading into Farndon we followed clear signage through the village to The Boathouse where we found ample parking. I could see what Papa had been insinuating right away. The Boathouse looks fab. Admittedly, The Gastrosexualist tends to haunt the more rustic venues of The Vale of Belvoir, and this is nothing like those traditional old inns and coaching houses. No, The Boathouse is modern, sophisticated, clean and airy, with lots of gleaming chrome and glass mixing with modern stone effects, plenty of decking and a spacious veranda which opens out onto riverside views. The bar area is a thing of beauty with some excellent design features built around natural slate. Clearly effort has been put into creating a signature style. A decent choice of bottled and draught beers, spirits and wines is offered. We took a seat outside, noting that the boathouse theme includes warm, fluffy ‘guest’ towels to use as blankets if the weather turns chilly.
Pleasing lunch menu, perused while enjoying a pint of Old Speckled Hen. Thoughtful choices, ingredients locally sourced where possible (The Boathouse has its own herb garden on site) and with some meat and fish home-smoked. We decided on something unfussy. I opted for the English Mustard and Maple Roasted Ham, Cooked on the Bone, with Runny Egg and Triple Cooked Fat Chips, and Home Made Piccalilli. This was superb. The chips live up to their reputation, that crisp skin yielding to beautifully soft potato, wonderfully seasoned. The ham itself was generously portioned, thick cut and flavoursome. My wife took on the Thai Fish Cakes with Tempura King Prawns, Wasabi Mayonnaise & Sweet Chilli & Coriander Sauce, fishcakes moistly delicious with a good crumb, prawns plump and fresh, batter perfectly crisp, dipping sauces piquant and lip-smacking. Very commendable stuff, and already we were choosing options from the menu for our next visit.
The Gastrosexualist will certainly be returning. Papa, however, is said to be mending his ways and appears to be settling down at last with just the one partner, saving his pennies to put down a deposit on an apartment in West Bridgford, and will not be visiting anytime soon. Or so he claims...