The Angel in Stoke-by-Nayland review
The Angel is one of those country pubs that has had to reinvent itself as a smart, but not dress-up, restaurant. It’s a place where older people go once a week to see their friends, and young couples head to when they have a baby-sitter booked and are out on their monthly date.
Mismatched old tables, waitresses dressed in black, specials written up on the mirrors. And beams. Like most old buildings around here, it has lots of old oak beams. They’ve been revealed and cleaned and polished. The rooms are left with not so much the cosy rundown feel of a good Midsummer Murders set – more the sense that a big team of builders has breezed through with the simple instruction to reveal the old character. Thus, also, the exposed bricks.
The menu is half a dozen starters, half a dozen mains, and the same number of puddings. There were some specials, all but one had already gone. By country dining standards we’d arrived late – 8.15. Out friends were later still – 8.25. We hugged, and chatted and where shown to our table – 8.30.
Our friend Jane, a celiac, has this little routine when she sits down. She simply asks the waitress what on the menu is suitable for a celiac. It’s a reasonable request, and one that waitresses normally go and check with the chef. Our waitress did just that, and came straight back with her findings. I cannot understand why more restaurants can’t handle such requests this easily. It should be as simple as “what is suitable for a vegetarian? or a vegan?” If your business is serving food you should know. This chef went out of his way to help. It seems he normally cooks the salmon with a light flouring to the skin, for extra crispness. He’d be happy to do it without. She ordered the salmon.
I had duck liver pate, served – quite bizarrely – with a brulee topping. There was some good toast and a salad that was too big to be a garnish, too small to want to eat. It was served, in that silly modish manner, on a chopping board. The brulee added nothing, the pate beneath was excellent. Annie had Moules Mariniere, which had travelled over the Pyrenees intoSpainand came with a little chorizo – which worked, and chickpeas – which did not.
For main course I ordered Four hour braised Dingley Dell pig cheeks in red wine & rosemary on swede mash with a parsnip puree & mixed baby vegetables. Now, a pigs cheek is a very generous portion of meat, it is at least the size of your hand, has the fatty / meaty quality that you only almost find in pork belly, and then nestled underneath this unctuous goodness there is a little nugget of meat, about the size of a squashed golf ball. Pigs cheeks can be cured to become Bath Chaps, or slowly braised until much of the fat has rendered out. They can be hung up to dry and become the perfect mid-point between prosciutto ham and lardo. I had an oblong plate with three of the little nuggets, perfectly trimmed, slowly braised. They were served, as stated. It was good, but I felt cheated not to have had a whole pigs face on my plate. The skinny chips came served in a little decorative faux frying basket. I have no idea why.
It’s my own fault for being a non-drinker, but there were only two puddings made without booze. Something with goats milk and a twix flavoured cheesecake. I went with the twix. Nice enough, and finally something served on a round plate. Two of the others had chopping boards again.
The waitresses were pleasant, but the manger clean forgot to bring a second bottle of wine we ordered. By the time we were eating, the restaurant was empty – 9.20. The staff waited until we were on our puds before polishing the other tables and setting them ready for breakfast. I half-joked that they where about to start hoovering.
The manager decided to bring us the bill, unasked for at 11.00. £132 for four including a bottle and two glasses, of house white. We split the bill between two – he suggested £116 on each card. A genuine mistake, for which he apologised.