Plaques for Britain

BY RAYMOND POSTOATE

THE simplest, if not always the ideal, way of travelling on the Continent is to drive by plaques. In France, especially, I used to go slowly down the streets looking at the signs plastered all over the restaurants and hotels, assuring me in the names of Guides and Associations of eight or nine different nations that here I would find good eating and attention. It was not so bad a principle at that; one never got really bad food at these plastered places, and the lavatories always worked, which was not in those days a thing to be taken for granted. One could not, of course, tour in Britain on the same principle, for the AA, RAC and CTC signs, admirable for their purposes, had no gastronomic meaning at all. (It was not sur- prising; food was pretty horrible every- where.) The 'plaque system' is no longer, the best one even in France, for the two best gastronomic guides don't issue plaques, so far as I know. They are the Michelin Guide and the Kleber-Colombes Guide— the latter, by the way, much the better.

But I have been asked more than once to issue plaques for Britain, and have even thought of doing so. I ought to explain at once why I or anyone else should think I had the right to take any such arrogant action.' MM. Michelin, Kleber and Colombes, out of the profits of their tyres, pay teams of expensive Frenchmen to go round the restaurants and report; I certainly can't do that. Nor have I myself personally tested all the restaurants which might be included. There are, I would say, something under 2,000 of these; there are 365 days in the year; there are, so far as I am concerned anyway, only two full meals in the day. You can do the arithmetic yourself. Any pre- tence to knowing personally the over-all food picture of the island in any given year would be a fraud, no matter how voracious I claimed to be.

The knowledge that I do have comes from assistants, roughly between two and three thousand of them. For the last five years I have been writing and editing a gastro- nomic guide to Britain called The Good Food Guide, which has been the organ of what is called the Good Food Club. In case you have not heard of it, that is a voluntary organisation of people interested in good cooking, good wine, and good service, who , send in reports for the Guide—to me as President—of where these things are found; also where they are not. Membership of the

Club is secured by buying the current Guide, which carries with it, theoretically, the obligation to report to me. Nine out of ten of the purchasers, of course, don't do so. But the tenth does; also I have ways of coaking and cajoling particularly qualified individuals to go and inspect places which need a special inquiry. I won't trouble you with details, but I had better add, since this is a distrustful world, that nobody is paid for his work, no free meals or free holidays are accepted, and no space is sold or money accepted for entries. So far as strict rules and mean suspicion can help, the informa- tion is unbiased.

But I thought, and still think, that plaques should not be handed out to restaurants and inns, even if they were asked for. British catering does not as yet deserve any. The general standard is too low.

There are some 800 or so places in this island where you can be fairly sure of get- ting a good meal. But there are few places where you may get a definitely fine meal, and even fewer where you will be sure of getting such a meal. For fine catering in England (and even more in Scotland and Wales) depends on so lamentably few people. If the man, or woman, responsible is ill, drunk, out of temper, or merely on holiday, there is often no one to replace him, and the cooking becomes disastrous. Rarely does one find an establishment of the kind so common in France where almost any one of the family or the staff can at a pinch do well enough anything that is needed, and it needs not one defection but a massacre to ruin the restaurant.

But with all these qualifications, if I were to affix plaques to a dozen British inns, on whose walls would I nail them? As an experiment, and committing only myself, let me make twelve choices. They are arbitrary. They do not include London. They are based (mostly) on the reports of others, and their performance this year. They exclude, undoubtedly, some which should be in (for I am limited to twelve); they themselves may change. They are not in order of merit, but arranged geographi- cally, going outwards from London.

ASTON CLINTON (Bucks), THE BELL: The Bell is the nearest to London, on the main Aylesbury road, well located for the car-

riage trade, as they, say. Gerard Harris, the landlord, is the man most responsible for its exceptional goodness. He started some years ago by building up an excellent cellar, which is now magnificent; there are twenty or thirty clarets starting with some 1928s and 1929s at about 35s. and going down to an adequate ordinaire at 9s. 6d. Mr. Harris used to bottle his own wine but doesn't now. The menu is astonishing for a small place; imaginative, large and various. Chicken Stanley, pheasant Smitane, Dublin Bay prawns provencales, and the entrecôte marchand de yin have been very good this year. Since unadulterated praise is good for nobody, I shall add that occasionally I have

detected a tendency to use a little too much wine in sauces—as for example in a lobster in Madeira; also a distinct difference between when Mr. Harris it watching and when he is not.

EASTBOURNE (Sussex), CHEZ MAURICE: Maurice Ithurbure, whose restaurant is at 118 Seaside Road, is one of the surviving pupils of Escoffier, which, in another world, is like being able to say you have sat at the feet of T. H. Huxley. His prices are not high, though I don't know them exactly. In the past year his particular successes have been : bisque de homard, chicken vol-au- vent, filet de sole Maurice, chicken a la King, stuffed aubergines and chestnut pan- cakes. There is no table d'hôte, and you must be prepared to wait for dishes to be cooked. As indeed you should everywhere. There is no licence, but an ordinaire will be fetched, or, if you bring your own wine, it will be served as it should be.

COLERNE (Wilts), THE VINEYARD: Colerne is a small place you must find on the map; it is near Bath; the Vineyard is run by a high-strung bearded enthusiast named George Fuller and his wife. The cooking is not only excellent, but during the year there has been a table d'hôte at 4s. 6d. and 5s. 6d., which is rare nowadays. That is, of course, a simple meal; the grander cook- ing is a la carte; notable successes in the past year have been : trout in butter and almonds, lobster Newburg, roast widgeon, coq-au-vin, and the omelettes, especially his own lobster omelette. A good wine list; he used to be open Sundays and closed Mon- days, but our clever Sabbatarian laws have stopped that. BATH (Somerset), THE HOLE IN THE WALL: Mr. Percy Smith (and he, too, is bearded) has his restaurant in George Street in a sort of large cellar with a door which does look rather like a hole in the wall. The personal touch to the cooking is, if anything, more marked here, and almost every day there is something which will surprise you. Among this year's successes : Soupe It l'oignon, the house's fish stew with garlic crattons, piperade with a gammon rasher, Basque chicken and ham with apricots. No licence; wines fetched at a low price, or bring yours. For the necessary bit of criticism, I remark that I have once found the aioli too vinegary.

EXMOUTH (Devon), SEAGULL HOTEL: This, in Morton Street, is primarily an hotel, and restaurant-seekers must bear that in mind; unless they can order beforehand they must take the table d'hôte, and in the season children with parents come first. But Mrs. Richards's Danish and French food is outstanding. This year's successes: lobster Thermidor, scallops Origourdines, and a properly made Wiener schnitzel. The wine list begins at a low price with a sound claret.

NOTTINGHAM (Notts), L'APtafTIF: Turn- ing to the Midlands, 'which are sodden and unkind,' I should nail a plaque to this small place, 89 Upper Parliament Street, run by 'Pere Louis' (once more bearded). Prices, for wine and food, are not low--single dishes last year ran from 7s. 6d. to 12s: 6d.; but all are expertly cooked in butter, wine and cream. Noted: sole Sir Jack and caneton press.

NEWBRIDGE-ON-WYE (Radnor), NEW INN: This is a small place and Mr. and Mrs. Profaze who run it cannot offer regularly the large choice of, say, Mr. Percy Smith. But day after day their menus are very varied, and indeed unexpected. Out of the year's successes here are some which would earn a special entry in small type in a French guide : Portuguese soup with slices of hard-boiled egg, okra soup, lamb provengal, and a complete Chinese meal starting with shrimp and chicken soup. There is usually a good selection of red wines on the mantelpiece getting gently chambre. A meal costs from about 7s. 6d. upwards.

LLANARMON DYFFRYN CEIRIOG (Den- bigh), WEST ARMS: This place is as easy to find as its name is easy to pronounce; all I can do is advise you to go to Wrexham and then study the map. Mrs. Bunney's inn

is of rather a different kind from those we have already selected; they have offered very individual and unusual cooking; it claims its place as showing what can be done • with perfect materials in the traditional English style. The mutton is Berwyn Welsh mutton, the game is the pick of what is offered by two Shoots, the capon are raised for the inn, and they are presented exactly as they should be in a simple style.

FOEL FERRY (Anglesey), THE MERMAID: It is in all these cases advisable to telephone, but in the case of the Mermaid it is impera- tive, firstly because it is very small and hooked up, and secondly because it is not open all the year. As the telephone number is Brynsiencyn 217, I wish you well. Mrs. Hinchcliffe Davies's cooking is worth the trouble of learning enough Welsh. The recent successes have included ham in white wine with Hungarian stuffed tomatoes, and chicken with wine and gherkin sauce; set meals only are offered, but they are well balanced and each individual dish is—well, individual.

SCARBOROUGH (Yorks), PAVILION HOTEL: This (in Westborough) is much less of an individual artist's studio than, say, Mrs. Davies's. It is a well-run hotel with a hundred wines on its list, and a very much more elaborate kitchen. All the same it is marked by Mr. Laughton's personality; indeed, I do not think that any hotel or restaurant will ever reach the top rank which is not marked by some individual personality—not in this island, anyhow. The notable dishes here have been the same as

in previous years, and include fillets of sole Neptune, partridge in Beaujolais and steak Rossini.

ESKDALE (Cumberland), BOWER HOUSE INN: Far away from anywhere, and most difficult to find, this small inn is best found by going first to Boot, which is not itself a prominent place. In this case, at least, the absence of the chef doesn't mean disaster, for Mr. Caldwell can take over, though his range is not so extensive as his chef's. Win- ning entries this year : mushroom goulash, veal cutlet Pojarsky (very fine wine sauce) and scampi.

FORTINGALL, by ABERFELDY (Perth.), FORTINGALL HOTEL: This hotel comes last because it is farthest away, but for no other reason. It is at the foot of Glen Lyon, just below the wild and beautiful Pass of Lyon and MacGregor's Leap. It is difficult to pick out special items to justify Mr. Heptinstall's plaque, for he regularly offers a five-course meal in which everything is intended to be, and usually is, of distinction. Sample menu : quiche forestiere, bisque de homard, pap- rika schnitzel, Weinbeeren kuchen and Bengal toast. There were also gnocchi curiously cooked in a pot with cheese sauce, and very fine omelettes paysannes; Fort- ingall hors d'oeuvre at Sunday lunch had thirty varieties. Staff difficulties limit the numbers who can be served, so telephone Kenmore 216. A critical note :- the Burgun- dies are better than the clarets, which is odd for Scotland; still, they are served with care and you can get a carafe for as low as 9s. 6d. Nor is the food dear for what you get.