Big British Food Map Eating some eastern delights

Date Published:

02/09/2008

Andrew enjoyed some eastern delights as he journeyed through the East Midlands

Today I've headed to the city of Lincoln, but on the way took a detour to visit Richard Gill. I first met Richard three years ago at a farmers' market where he and his mum were selling buffalo steaks, burgers and sausages. Back then he had just started the family farm, on the road to diversification from traditional a traditional dairy herd. They had grand plans to attend more farmers' markets and open a farm shop. And I can happily report that they've done just that. The farm shop is in nearby Dronfield (about half a mile from Little Italy) and they're up to 12 markets a month.

This has been possible thanks to the 1970s formula one driver and organic self-sufficancy evangelist Jody Scheckter, who bought the stock last year and now rents it back to the Gills, enabling them to get on with the business of farming and producing. I think any enterprise that offers the consumer something new, interesting and well made should be applauded. And buffalo, and to a greater extent venison, game and even ostrich, takes some of the pressure off the traditional beef, pork, chicken and lamb as well as enabling our omnivorous nature.

A new take on surf and turf

Last night was my first in Lincolnshire and so after checking in I had a wander round. Elite Meats on Bailgate looked like a good butchers. Ken Roberts is the owner and I was pleased to see 'local rabbits' on offer. On the wall was a photograph of the shop taken over a 100 years ago - all the carcasses were strung up outside the shop. I'm never sure if this was because the light was better or it's really the way they did it back then. "You couldn't do that nowadays," laughs Ken.

I had dinner in the Wig and Mitre, a pub on the aptly named Steep Hill. I've often found that chefs take more risks and do more interesting things with starters than with mains, so I went for two starters. First up: 'Park Railings'. Cooked pressed beef, egg washed and bread crumbed, served still warm with cold white crab meat and tarragon mayo with some simple slices of raw radish. These meat fingers (they can also be made of lamb) are often served with a relish or punchy sauce. Now I'm not a fan of the traditional 'surf 'n' turf', adding a lobster to a steak is done for show rather than for flavour. But this was totally different. Here beefy bovine and cool crustacean worked well together.

Could this be English tapas?

Next up was a ballotine of chicken (a boned out thigh) stuffed with chorizo, roasted and sliced. It came with a little salad of micro leaves and puree. I enjoyed both with a pint of floral Bateman's bitter. My God was this 'English tapas'?! It was good pub cooking that's for sure.

A gentleman butcher

Yesterday I visited Abbey Farm, added to the Map by splodger. In the review, splodger also mentioned the nearby town of Woodhall Spa, and that the butcher there, Russell Hurst, does excellent faggots, known round here as haslet and pronounced 'hase-let'. Russell's shop is a small but perfectly formed butchers and as we're chatting a steady stream of customers comes in. Russell knows them all by name and they all know him.

Fit as a butcher's dog

A gentleman called Ray comes in and Russell bags him up a little bit of stewing steak. "I'll leave the bag open for you Ray," says Russell. Odd I think. Then I see why. Out side is Ray's dog drooling with anticipation. It reminded me of the old saying 'fit as a butcher's dog'. Another lady comes in for some more bacon and stewing steak. Last week Russell gave her a tip of adding a little zested orange peel to the stew and it was a big hit with her husband, so she's back for more.

I try some of the haslet. It's made with pork, dried English sage, salt and pepper and that's it. Nice too; it's great with gravy and mashed potatoes - real comfort food. "We sell about 80 a week," says Russell, proving that at least in this part of the world they still love traditional food from a traditional high street butcher.

Roger, Roger. What's our vector, Victor?

Yesterday, as well as visiting the Welbourne Bakery, I also took time out to drop into the Cranwell Aviation Heritage Centre at North Rauceby. It's a small, but nonetheless interesting, museum. I had a go at landing an airliner and can now safely say that if I was on a plane where the pilots had both passed out due to food poisoning, I'm probably not the one to land the plane.
While in Lincoln I've been staying at the fantastically well appointed Lincoln Town House. The kitchen is better stocked with equipment than my one at home!

Stuart outside the Bustard Inn

Map user, ailsaruth, added the Bustard Inn to the map saying: "Every time we come here it is absolutely faultless." As I was in the area the other day I dropped in. Being 3:45pm it was closed until 5pm, however general manager, Stuart Galloway, was out front, trimming the edge of the grass and he gladly let me in so I could have a nose round. Stuart's mother and stepfather, Alan and Liz Hewitt, bought the pub two years ago. It had fallen on hard times and so they closed it for six months for a major refit. The result balances traditional and modern perfectly. The barn at the back has been converted in to a restaurant and there's even a private dining room for 12. The menu looks interesting too.

Named after the bustard - sort of large turkey – the pub was originally built in 1860 for the village by the owner of nearby Rauceby Hall and is gothic in style, like the hall itself. Tuesday evenings a jazz band sets up in the corner. I ask about the future: "Down the line we'd like to offer rooms too," says Stuart. I think I'll have to keep an eye out and see how the Bustard Inn develops. In the meantime if any more of you have eaten there, please add your thoughts to the Map. And with that I bid goodbye to Lincolnshire and set a course for Nottingham.

Down the local

Nottingham - the two things people know about the place are that a) it's home to Robin Hood, and b) there's an urban myth that there's five females for every man. Well it's also the birthplace of Su Pollard, so now that's three things you know. I spent some time getting the gist of the town, having a walk round and familiarising myself with some of its key landmarks before nipping off for a sit down and a quiet pint in one of its many pubs.

Last week Andrew was in Sheffield.

Next he's off to Nottingham.

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