Tuesday - Saturday
12.30 - 1.15pm
(last order: 1.30pm)
7.30 - 8.30pm
(last order: 8.45pm)
Queries? Telephone
+44 (0) 1242-573449
12.30 - 1.15pm
(last order: 1.30pm)
7.30 - 8.30pm
(last order: 8.45pm)
Queries? Telephone
+44 (0) 1242-573449
Matthew Fort, Rating 18/20.
Second part...
It was obvious from these and other dishes on the menu - for example, fillet of red mullet with duck confit, beetroot and dandelion salad; and fillet of brill, white onion fondant and smoked eel cream - that, while the chef David Everitt-Matthias might be deeply imbued with the methods and doctrines of French haute cuisine, his cooking is not that of a man whose culinary curiosity is set in aspic. Indeed, to jump ahead a course or two, a tiny, delectable pre-dessert of rose geranium cream with damson also contained an unheralded sprinkling of space dust that popped like fire crackers in our mouths, causing us to laugh out loud with pleasure and me to reminisce about Heston Blumenthal's use of the same ingredient in a heart-stopping chocolate pud.
So, while the building blocks of each dish may be treated with the respect that comes from classic technique, the other ingredients - sauces, stuffings, supporting players, vegetables - bring a thoughtful freshness to the dishes. Nor is the kitchen afraid of flavour, or richness, come to that. There is a generosity of both, a certain forthrightness as well as a layering of tastes, such as in Lois's terrine, which pitched chicken against shiitake mushroom. It says a good deal for the chicken that it held its own against the fungus, which has a powerful, enveloping flavour.
Indeed, much of Everitt-Matthias's food is really quite hearty. The breast of lamb was a hugely hunky number, rich, soft and tender enough to eat with gums alone. The combination of snails and nettle purée gave it a boisterous, rustic edge, and all the elements were held in place by a ding-dong, oak-brown reduction that had a balanced power, but that didn't glue together my lips.
The lamb and the cod dishes were of a higher order of delicacy, even though the chestnut velouté with the cod would never get the thumbs up from Dr Atkins. It was very smooth and refined, as a velouté is supposed to be, with the turnip and pear bringing out the reticent chestnut with their respective earthiness and fruitiness, in the same way that the powdered orange lifted the lamb dish, adding a breath of citrus oil in the way orange peel does to a daube Provençale.
Yes, we did have puddings, too: a light prune and burdock mousse with toasted almond ice cream for me, and for her a marjolaine of praline and truffle with Tonka bean ice cream (whatever that might be). Both were as yummy as they were sweet. And, yes, we did get a bill - for £100.50, which included £18.50 on a couple of glasses of house wines, a brace of lime and lemonades, and waters. I haven't spent that little on my birthday for a couple of decades.
Second part...
It was obvious from these and other dishes on the menu - for example, fillet of red mullet with duck confit, beetroot and dandelion salad; and fillet of brill, white onion fondant and smoked eel cream - that, while the chef David Everitt-Matthias might be deeply imbued with the methods and doctrines of French haute cuisine, his cooking is not that of a man whose culinary curiosity is set in aspic. Indeed, to jump ahead a course or two, a tiny, delectable pre-dessert of rose geranium cream with damson also contained an unheralded sprinkling of space dust that popped like fire crackers in our mouths, causing us to laugh out loud with pleasure and me to reminisce about Heston Blumenthal's use of the same ingredient in a heart-stopping chocolate pud.
So, while the building blocks of each dish may be treated with the respect that comes from classic technique, the other ingredients - sauces, stuffings, supporting players, vegetables - bring a thoughtful freshness to the dishes. Nor is the kitchen afraid of flavour, or richness, come to that. There is a generosity of both, a certain forthrightness as well as a layering of tastes, such as in Lois's terrine, which pitched chicken against shiitake mushroom. It says a good deal for the chicken that it held its own against the fungus, which has a powerful, enveloping flavour.
Indeed, much of Everitt-Matthias's food is really quite hearty. The breast of lamb was a hugely hunky number, rich, soft and tender enough to eat with gums alone. The combination of snails and nettle purée gave it a boisterous, rustic edge, and all the elements were held in place by a ding-dong, oak-brown reduction that had a balanced power, but that didn't glue together my lips.
The lamb and the cod dishes were of a higher order of delicacy, even though the chestnut velouté with the cod would never get the thumbs up from Dr Atkins. It was very smooth and refined, as a velouté is supposed to be, with the turnip and pear bringing out the reticent chestnut with their respective earthiness and fruitiness, in the same way that the powdered orange lifted the lamb dish, adding a breath of citrus oil in the way orange peel does to a daube Provençale.
Yes, we did have puddings, too: a light prune and burdock mousse with toasted almond ice cream for me, and for her a marjolaine of praline and truffle with Tonka bean ice cream (whatever that might be). Both were as yummy as they were sweet. And, yes, we did get a bill - for £100.50, which included £18.50 on a couple of glasses of house wines, a brace of lime and lemonades, and waters. I haven't spent that little on my birthday for a couple of decades.
LE CHAMPIGNON SAUVAGE RESTAURANT,
24-26, SUFFOLK ROAD, CHELTENHAM, GLOS. GL50 2AQ. UK.
TEL: 01242-573449 FAX: 01242-254365
