Wednesday, 15 October 2025

Eating the Algarve 2025

Originally posted in 2011, Eating the Algarve had a major rewrite in 2022 and since has been updated yearly.

Eating in the Algarve


Portugal
For me food ranks high among the pleasures of travel and 'eating local' is important. In a very few countries eating local is a chore, endless mutton in Mongolia (there is no choice) or two kebabs a day in Iran (I hear menus have diversified since 2000) leap to mind, but I have a much longer list of lands, from China in the east to Cuba in the west where dinner is a delight. Portugal ranks highly amongst them.

We first visited the Algarve, Portugal’s southernmost region, in 1982, returned several times in the 1990s and have not missed a year this century (except 2020, the Baleful Year of Covid). Since 2005 we have based ourselves at Carvoeiro, one of the smaller seaside resorts. I admire the way the locals accept that, for a part of the year at least, they are a minority in their own town, yet deal calmly and honestly with the invading hordes. I love the October warmth, the sunshine sparkling on the sea, the colours of the bougainvillea trailing across freshly painted white villas, but most of all I love the food.

The Algarve (Carvoeiro underlined) and its position in the Iberian Peninsula (shaded red in inset)

Portugal is often thought of as a Mediterranean country. Portuguese is a Latin language, the climate, particularly in the Algarve is Mediterranean as is the food. Tomatoes, garlic and peppers are important while olive oil is the essential cooking medium, condiment and salad dressing. All it lacks is a Mediterranean coast.

Warm(ish) and blue, but definitely the Atlantic Ocean, not the Mediterranean Sea

The Algarve is a tourist region and thus prey to foreign influences - tapas and sangria from Spain, salmon from northern Europe and, more recently ceviche from South America. Carvoeiro also offers Chinese, Indian, Thai and Nepalese cuisine – and all-day English Breakfast should that be the limit of your horizons. There are an increasing number of tapas, Italian and ‘Mediterranean’ restaurants, but most could still be described as 'tipico', where fresh, local ingredients are treated with respect.

Carvoeiro

I have nothing against Indian restaurants or ceviche, but this post is about Portuguese food with am Algarve accent. It is not fine dining (though the Algarve has its Michelin starred restaurants), nor exclusively about restaurant food, it is about good food at everyday prices – something Portugal does supremely well.

Breakfast

We do not go out for breakfast, and for the Portuguese at home, breakfast is little more than coffee, bread and jam, but I must crowbar in a mention of presunto. Portuguese has two words for ham, fiambre is wet cured ham, pink, flaccid and forgettable while presunto is air cured – very like the Spanish Serrano Ham. Of the many ways to enjoy presunto, none is better than smeared with a warm, runny egg-yolk.

Presunto, a sadly broken fried egg and an over-large breakfast

Although we eat presunto for breakfast regularly, this is not a regular breakfast, this is the final day, 'clear the fridge' breakfast - well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Morning Snacks

Coffee and cake! A section of I Don’t have a Sweet Tooth but… is dedicated to Portuguese coffee and cake. I shall not repeat myself here, but I cannot resist a picture of café com leite with a pastel de nata, my absolute favourite.

What eleven o'clock is for

It does not look much, but melts away leaving a legacy of lovely, lingering flavours. It’s like Portugal, not always showy but full of depth and richness.

Light Lunch

As will become obvious we sometimes go out for lunch, but rarely for a 'light lunch' - keeping it 'light' would be nigh on impossible. But to control a regime noticeably leaning towards over-indulgence, light lunches are a necessity. We need salad - lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, garlic, a sprinkle of herbs, a dash of vinegar and a drizzle downpour of olive oil - and in the Algarve what better accompaniment than locally produced sardine paté...

Salad and sardine paté

…or maybe some cheese. The Portuguese tend to eat cheese at the start of a meal, but visitors can do as they please. The Algarve produces a little, but most eaten in the region comes from the Alentejo, the next district to the north, or from the Azores, 1,000km out in the Atlantic.

Two cheeses

On the left is an Alentejo sheep cheese. It is close textured with a gentle flavour, but a pleasing tang at the finish. (For more on Alentejo cheese see Eating and Drinking the Alentejo). On the right an Azores cheese made with mixed cow, goat and sheep milk – I don’t know of anywhere else that mixes milks. It is soft and creamy with a delicate flavour but a sumptuous texture.

Main Courses for the Main Meal of the Day (Usually Dinner, but Sometimes Lunch)

Introduction: Couvert

Maybe Portuguese portion sizes have increased, or - more likely - we are just getting old, but we no longer eat three course meals. Starters are pleasures of the past while desserts, if we bother at all involve two spoons but only one dessert. We do. howver maintain the Portugues tradition of a couvert.

In days of old, when clams were bold (or at least, cheap) you had no sooner sat down but some bread would arrive at your table, followed by the obligatory olives, sardine paté, carrots, maybe some cheese or a small fish. These were presented as though they were gifts, but of course you paid for them in the end, under the heading couvert (cover charge). This seemed fine to me, I liked the element of surprise and the cost was small, but clearly it did not please everybody. In the interests of transparency, the various items are listed and priced on the menu and you must ask for them, though specials, like a freshly prepared sardine paté, are sometimes offered verbally. We regard bread and olives as an absolute minimum, indeed starting a Portuguese meal without first eating a bowl of olives is downright perverse. We also like the garlicky, gently spiced boiled carrots which, despite numerous attempts, I have never quite managed to reproduce at home.

Bread, olives and white port - well why not?

Unlike the French, the Portuguese do not leave a specific time for an aperitif, but we like a white port while we are munching our olives. Sweet or dry it has just enough acidity to sharpen the appetite for whatever comes next.

Fish

Some 100km West to East and 50km North to South, the Algarve is a roughly rectangular with the Atlantic Ocean on two sides. Unsurprisingly, it is blessed with the freshest of fish.

Dourada e Robalo. Sea Bream and Sea Bass are ubiquitous. The tourist-driven fashion of late is to fillet them, but they used to be plated whole....

Robalo, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2023

....and thankfully still are at Casa Palmeira in Carvoeiro.

Dourado, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2023

This year (2025), I noticed menus offering Dourada and/or Robalo, while also offering 'fillet of Dourada/Robala' as a separate item, This seems a reasonable compromise, protecting those who suffer conniptions on seeing a fish head on their plate, its dulled eye staring reproachfully up at them, while allowing us more robust dinners to carry on as before.

Linguado Sole used to be on most menus, then disappeared and is now making a come back.

Sole, Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro 2024

My sole at Bela Rosa in Carvoeiro was minimalist, to say the least, and perhaps looks overcooked though it was not. Sole in the UK is ritually drowned in butter and pebble-dashed with capers and this made a pleasant change.

Sardinha. Sardines are available in (almost) every restaurant in the Algarve and are often the cheapest main course.

Sardines, Dona Barca 2024

Since 1982 we have been making what has become a pilgrimage to the Algarve’s second city of Portimão to eat sardines. The scruffy trestle tables on the dock have long been tidied up, but ducking under an arch from where they used to be brings you to a small square where Dona Barca, an old-style restaurant with communal tables, grills fish in the open air. Since we discovered it with Brian and Hilary in 2001(ish) we have never felt the need to go anywhere else for our sardines.

Dona Barca 2022, with Brian and Hilary
Sardines, salad and boiled potatoes, so simple, so satisfying

It is a treat we have often shared with friends, usually Brian and Hilary. Dona Barca is inexpensive, the food is excellent (they have a full menu, it’s not just sardines) and it is one of very few restaurants we visit with Portuguese customers as well as tourists. Sadly, the long communal tables disappeared two years ago – more victims of Covid?

Espadarte. We both like an occasional swordfish steak, though sometimes they can be a touch dry. It is a meaty fish and Lynne enjoyed her swordfish in A Galeria in Carvoeiro, though presentation does not appear to be the restaurant's greatest strength.

Swordfish, A Galeria, Carvoeiro 2025

At lunch at the Atlântida, on the beach at Alvor, they offered an Espadarte Algarvia. There is no agreed definition of ‘Algarvia’ or ‘Algarve style’ but I expected something with tomatoes, peppers and garlic. What I got was different.

Swordfish with orange and almonds, Restaurante Atlântida, Alvor 2022

Oranges and almonds are important local products, but I was not prepared for a slab of fish to be doused in orange (juice and pulp) and sprinkled with toasted almonds. ‘Oranges and fish!' I thought, 'No! No! Thrice No!’ But, believe it or not, it was the best thing I ate in our 2022 visit. Like Lister’s triple fried egg, chilli, chutney sandwich it was all wrong, but perfect.

Perhaps there is a fashion growing here. In 2023 I spotted a restaurant offering 'swordfish with coconut and passion fruit'. After discovering the pleasures of black scabbard fish, banana and passion fruit in Madeira I thought I might try it, until I read the restaurant's review.

We lunched at the Atlântida at the suggestion of my (distant) cousin Ricky, long- time Algarve resident, fluent Portuguese speaker and now a Portuguese citizen. See Finding a Long Lost Cousin.

Ricky and me, Restaurante Atlântida, Alvor 2022

Ensopado de Enguia (Eel Stew). The restaurants we use in Carvoeiro and along the coastal strip describe themselves as 'tipico' but their clientele is largely tourists and however tipico they want to be, they all have an eye on what will appeal to the north European palate.

In 2023 Ricky took us to the restaurant in her village. She told us they feed local workers on weekday lunchtime and on Sundays (when we visited) people drive up from Portimão (the nearest city) for 'country food'. Wherever the clientele came from they were overwhelmingly Portuguese

A Oficina, Mexilhoeira Grande

A Oficina gave us access to several dishes that do not make it onto the tourist menus and I could not resist trying ensopado de enguia, eel stew. Disks of perfectly cooked eel floated in a somewhat rustic sauce consisting largely of blitzed tomatoes strongly flavoured with coriander. It was accompanied by a plate of chips and fried bread, which would have been perfect if I spent my day labouring in the fields, but for an idle so-and-so like me, was more carbohydrate than I needed. The eel, though was delicious, the white, delicately flavoured flesh falling willingly from the spine.,

Eel stew, A Oficina, Mexilhoeira Grande, 2023

Bacalhau. The Portuguese love affair with salt cod started over 400 years ago and continues to this day, even in the Algarve. However, for me the Algarve is about fresh fish, and Bacalhau feels more at home in the Alentejo, which has much less coastline and a different culinary tradition. So, for Bacalhau dishes visit The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking 2024.

Other Denizens of the Deep

Lula. Squid has long been a favourite of both of us. They were disappearing from menus a couple of years ago, but I am glad to see they are now making a recovery. In 2022, 23 and (for Lynne) 24 and 25 We have eaten our squid at the Bela Rosa in Carvoeiro.

Squid at the Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro, 2022

Perfecting squid is tricky and Bela Rosa are doing well enough to encourage our repeated return, but the very finest squid we have eaten was served at Maria's, a breath of fresh air, proper Portugal and sensible pricing on the beach beyond the tourist wonderland of Vale de Lobo/Quinta da Largo. After several decades of sterling service Maria sold up. The restaurant is still there, the name is unchanged, but the prices have soared under management fully invested in the creeping Californication of the Algarve.

The good old days at Maria's, Quinta do Largo, 2011
Fish is always best eaten within sight of the sea

There is another style of squid dish that involves many small squid, sometimes, carefully stuffed and sometimes served in their own ink, as at Cozinha da Avó (Grandma's Kitchen) in Carvoeiro in 2024.

Squids, Cozinha da Avó, Carvoeiro 2024

Lynne is not keen on squids like this and it is not always clear which your are ordering, though these are usually sold as 'Algarve style' or 'house style'.

Polvo. We regularly ate octopus, more precisely, polvo à lagareiro in Martins Grill by the beach in Carvoeiro. Sadly Jan (Martins) Zegers died in 2019, Martins Grill closed soon after and octopus all but vanished in tourist orientated restaurants. This year (2025) saw a superabundance of octopuses in the waters around Devon and Cornwall, and as my fellow countryman and women have never warmed to their mild flavour and sumptuous texture, octopuses were exported to southern Europe in vast quantities. This may account for their appearance on many menus in Carvoeiro this year.

Polvo à lagareiro, Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro 2025

This year, while Lynne ate her squid in Bela Rosa, I went for the octopus from the specials board. It was the best polvo à lagareiro I have eaten. A lagareiro is a style of cooking that involves generous application of olive oil during the roasting phase and is perfect for octopus.

Arroz de Marisco. Seafood rice, a particular favourite of mine, usually comes as a dish for two. First comes the ritual tying on of the bib - this is going to be a messy business - and then a large earthenware bowl is placed on the table and the waiter gives it a judicious stir.

Arroz con Marisco, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro, 2023

He then hands over the spoon and what happens next is up to you. You spoon out a portion of rice, with clams, prawns, mussels, cracked crabs legs, langoustine and whatever else had been in the market that day. Fingers are required to liberate tasty morsels from shells - the crab legs sometimes require some force - and it all gets wonderfully messy. It can also demand some concentration!

I've found a clam! Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2025

Tasty thought the morsels may be, I derive as much pleasure from the sauce and the rice that has been soaked in it as I do shellfish, indeed the whole process and the whole dish is a delight.

When all has been consumed it is time to sit back and relax. Although I like hands-on eating, I also enjoy washing my hands thoroughly when it is all over.

And relax, Casa Palmeira, Carvoeiro 2025

Amêijoas. Clams have always been important in Portugal but the last twenty years have seen serious over-fishing. Amêijoas à Bulhão Pato, clams in a garlicky broth, was once a cheap starter, it still appears on menus but now costs more than most main courses.

It is sometimes posssible to find a bag of fresh clams at a reasonable price in a supermarket and cook them at home. I have never essayed Amêijoas à Bulhão Pato, but I do a fair Amêijoas marinière to mess with a classic and mix languages.

Clams marinière frites

Camarão Prawns used to appear more in the starters section than in main courses, except of course in Arroz de Marisco.

More than 20 yeasr ago, when we still ate three courses, I used to enjoy the prawns piri piri starter at Retiro dos Indios outside Val de Lobo. The restaurant survives to this day, but I have no idea what is on the current menu. This year three prawn dishes appeared as main courses in the Bela Rosa, prawns piri, prawns 'house style' and shrimp curry - though they were all Camarão on the Portuguese menu.

I chose the curry...

Prawn curry, Bela Rosa, Carvoeiro, 2025

...it was all right but the chilli could have been hotter and the rest of the spicing was far too muted. And as for it being a shrimp curry, no these were (I am happy to say) prawns. British English makes a distinction between prawns and their much smaller cousins, shrimps. American English use the word 'shrimp' for all such crustaceans regardless of size, even for tiger prawns. Perhaps they found their curry recipe on an American website.

Cataplana Dishes

A cataplana is a cooking vessel unique to the Algarve. It consists of a pair of hinged copper shells which enclose the ingredients sealing in all the moisture and all the flavour. It can also be put on the heat either way up. A fish cataplana, usually serving two, will contain several pieces of fish - whatever is available that day - and, typically, prawns and mussels. The smell when your cataplana is opened at the table is memorable.

Cataplana, Vimar, Carvoeiro 2011

The cataplana in the picture was expertly cooked, but I doubt the slab of salmon among the fish is local, and nor are the New Zealand green-lipped mussels at the front. Local produce is excellent and promoting it is even more important now than it was in 2011.

Another dish traditionally cooked in a cataplana is pork and clams, and in 2022 I enjoyed this in an individual cataplana at the Casa Algarvia in Carvoeiro. This apparently strange combination was made in the Algarve, but undoubtedly designed in heaven.

Pork and clams in a cataplana, Casa Algarvia, Carvoeiro. 2022

As that last cataplana involved pork, it is time for the meat.

Meat

Borrego. Throughout the Algarve there are patches of scrubby land with a few sheep and a shepherd. The shepherds are uniformly the sort of old men who feel they still need to do something useful (an affliction I have never suffered from). Lynne felt that as they went to so much effort it was rude not to eat some lamb.

Lynne’s rack of lamb at the Casa Algarvia was top quality meat, perfectly cooked. Unfortunately it was marred by a squirt of sweet commercial mint sauce at the side of the plate, partly over some salad. I suspect unimaginative British tourists have for years been telling Portuguese restaurateurs that ‘we always eat lamb with mint sauce’ and this is the result. Not all restaurants make this error, and mint sauce has its place in a British-style ‘roast dinner’, but here it was just inappropriate.

Rack of lamb, Casa Algarvia, Carvoeiro, 2022

Frango Piri-piri. Chicken piri-piri was on (almost) every menu in the Algarve long before Nando’s existed. Nandos was co-founded in South Africa by Fernando Duarte, a Portuguese Mozambiquan who gave the dish the fast-food franchise treatment and aligned himself with the gastro-criminals of KFC, MacDonalds and the rest. There are mercifully very few fast-food franchises in Portugal (though there is a Burger King with a ludicrously large sign in Lagoa) and chicken piri-piri is cooked individually by each restaurant in their own style. It is traditionally our lunch on our last day in Portugal.

Chicken piri-piri, O Barco, Carvoeiro 2022

Portugal and the chilli: a small digression

The chilli pepper was first cultivated in Mexico some 10,000 years ago. Several millennia later It was taken to Asia by Portuguese traders, arriving in India in the late 16th century and recasting the whole cuisine of south-east Asian. Vindaloo, the ultimate test of British diner's machismo, originated in the Portugal's Indian colony of Goa, as an example Portuguese/Indian fusion.

They took the variety that would become piri-piri to Africa and it made its way to the Portuguese mainland from their colony of Mozambique. Chilli does not appear in traditional Portuguese cookery but sausages (chouriço piquante) and sardine paté with piri-piri are widely available, as is piri-piri sauce, suggesting it is much used in home cookery.

Desserts

Dessert menus usually involve a large glossy folded card produced by a manufacturer of synthetic desserts and ice creams. Stuck somewhere on the card there will always be a small, sometimes hand-written, list of the grown-up desserts, many of them made in-house. Ever present is pudim flan, a rich eggy caramel custard, which is perfect when you have too little room for anything heavier. Sometimes it is just perfect.

Lynne and a pudim flan, Martin's Grill, Carvoeiro 2019

If you have a little more space left, there are bolos (cakes) and tartes (translation unnecessary) made from local produce including (but not limited to) almonds, figs…

Fig and almond roll, Atlântida, Alvor, 2022

… carobs, oranges…

An amazingly light yet full flavoured orange cake, and an affogato of sorts
O Barco, Carvoeira, 2022

and apples. The cakes are usually made with one egg more than would be normal elsewhere and are universally wonderful.

And there is always the mysterious little package known as Dom Rodrigo.

Dom Rodrigo, Marisqueirra Portugal, Carvoeiro, 2022
Very enjoyable, but rather small once you get in there

Extroduction

The end of a meal demands one of these.

Bica

The Portuguese version of an expresso is maybe larger than the Italian, but although it is strong the flavour is less aggressive and more layered. It is known as a bica, a word which also means spout and, in some contexts, nipple, though I have no idea why. Decaf is available, should you deem it wiser in the evening.

When you ask for the bill, it will usually be presented with a small glass of port, bagaçeira or almond liqueur. Once you have paid up and drunk up it is time to go.

Tuesday, 2 September 2025

Fifty Years Together (3): A Special Present

A Rare and Wonderful Bottle


Staffordshire
Wedding anniversaries are important to the couple involved, celebrations are often more private and involve less present giving than birthdays or Christmas. This rather special year however we received one spectacular present. It came from my sister Erica – seen here visiting Piglet in Ashdown Forest (aka the Hundred Aker Wood).

Erica visits piglet

I am a practising wine buff, and Erica goes to great lengths to find interesting wines for birthdays and Christmases, but for this anniversary she excelled herself. She gave us a bottle of Château Mouton-Baron-Philippe, from Pauillac in Bordeaux's Haut Médoc region. In 1855 the great and the good of the Bordeaux wine world examined their châteaux for consistency and quality and gave 60 of them the right to call themselves Cru Classé. Ch Mouton-Baronne-Philippe was among them, though then called Ch Mouton d’Armailhacq (and since 1989, Ch d’Armailhac). These 60 were the pinnacle of red wine making in the Haut Médoc, thus the pinnacle in Bordeaux - and thus in the whole world (according to the Bordelais). The people of Burgundy would have argued loudly in 1855 and today other regions (Tuscany, Napa Valley, Barossa Valley and more) might reasonably claim joint pinnacle status, but the 60 from 1855 - all still producing fine wine – remain at the tip of their pinnacle.

Chateau Mouton Baron Philippe

But this is not just a bottle from a top chateau, it was from the 1975 vintage. ‘75 was a good year in Bordeaux and was also the year we were married. We already had arrangements for our wedding anniversary, so decided to hold this over for our birthday celebrations, mine today, and Lynne’s at the weekend when we will be away. These celebrations also involve the number 75.

Vintage 1975

50-year-old claret is a beautiful thing and needs careful treatment. It would have thrown a heavy sediment, mostly adhering to the back of the bottle opposite the label, but it had been unavoidably disrupted by a 4-hour car journey from Sussex. Standard advice is to place the bottle in a vertical position some 72 hours before serving but because of the car journey I left it a couple of days longer. The wine was shoulder-high in the bottle, which is normal for its age.

Next came the challenge of extracting a fifty-year-old cork. I removed the capsule and inserted my corkscrew carefully into the extremely soft cork. With a smooth and very gentle pull I had the top half outside the bottle neck before it broke, which was a little better than I had expected. Had I owned a ‘butler’s friend’ the rest would be easy, but not being so blessed, I reinserted the corkscrew into the lower half of the cork. It would be frighteningly easy now to pull out the corkscrew leaving a hole and showering cork dust into the wine. Holding my breath, I pulled very gently and to my relief (and surprise) the lower half came out intact. All I had to do now was to decant the wine off the sediment, a largely successful operation.

The decanted wine

Then give it a gentle swirl…

Give it a gentle swirl

…and a sniff…

A thoughtful sniff

And drink it accompanied by a duck leg.

And what does a fifty-year-old claret taste like?

According to the textbooks, the tannins and fruit flavours should have faded and been replaced by a subtle, savoury complexity. Our bottle though retained noticeable tannin; 1975 was a year of particularly tannic wines in Bordeaux, so that seemed appropriate.

The following was culled from the notes I found on-line for this particular wine and vintage, and reasonably represent what we saw, sniffed and drank.

Colour: Tawny with a wide rim; heavy sediment

Nose: Little fruit but notes of cedar, leather, tobacco leaf, dried currant, graphite, forest floor, mushroom/truffle, maybe even soy sauce and a whiff of cigar box (classic Pauillac). Wine-writers play word association games, but it feels largely right, though I doubt I have ever handled a cigar box, never mind sniffed one.

Palate: Fruit almost gone, but faint dried blackcurrant or prune. The alcohol is well integrated; the wine has become lighter with age and the acidity more pronounced. The finish is long with savoury notes.

We have had the good fortune to taste a few such Cru Classé wines over the years, but never one of this age. It was an experience I enjoyed from start to finish – even the perilous cork extraction. We are both very grateful to Erica for giving us such a fine finish to our extended Golden Wedding celebrations and a memorable start to our birthday revels.

See Also

Saturday, 26 July 2025

Fifty Year Together (2): Celebrating at The Angel at Hetton

Continued from Part 1....

The Restaurant, the Angel at Hetton


North Yorkshire
The Angel Inn at Hetton first opened its doors to the public in the 15th century and has been serving food and drink ever since. Its latest incarnation started in September 2018 with the arrival of chef-patron Michael Wignall, his wife Johanna and their team. Wignall had previously been executive head chef at Gidley Hall in Devon.

He has ambitious plans for the Angel, the big first step, winning a Michelin star, being achieved in October 2019. He describes his style as casual and contemporary and his food as being modern, technical and meaningful which he explains as every element brings flavour or texture, enticing diners to experience new combinations and ingredients. (Phrases in italics come from angelhetton,co,uk.)

I am bemused by the repeated use of the word ‘casual’ on the website. There is nothing casual about the way Michael Wigmore designs, cooks and presents each dish. Lynne and I do not eat casually, we take small flavour-packed mouthfuls and taste, discuss and savour. There is nothing casual about the large, well-trained waiting staff who glide purposefully between the tables. But, when we need to talk to them, the conversation is informal. No one wants or expects obsequious Victorian servants, or supercilious butlers. Perhaps the word they wanted was informal rather than casual.

Our Dinner

The Angel offers a choice of five or seven course tasting menus. Twenty years ago we might have chosen seven, but even with tiny courses that is now too much, so we went for five.

The Angel menu

Numerate readers will observe that the 5-course menu has nine courses. The Wagyu and Cheese, options we eschewed, are the missing courses from the 7-course menu, allowing an upgrade, should the diner feel peckish. Bread is never considered a ‘course’ and Snacks are what more formal/less casual menus would call canapés, so not a course either.

Snacks

Baron Bigod is a Brie-like cheese made on the Suffolk/Norfolk boundary. I know no finer cheese and I have written about it in both Suffolk and Norfolk. A bonus point for top quality ingredients but sadly turning Baron Bigod into a mousse dimmed its unique subtleties. The tuile was clever, but the Alsace bacon perched on it rather overwhelmed the mousse.

Baron Bigod mousse and tuiles

Parfait. A chicken liver parfait in a boat of puffed rice, was as soft and lovely as a parfait gets.

Chicken Liver Parfait

Chawanmushi. The first of several Japanese touches. Lynne and I have been privileged to eat our way over the last two decades from Malacca up through every country in mainland East Asia to Beijing in the North. Sadly, we have never visited Japan, and as Japanese flavours are becoming ever more popular, I am playing catch-up. Chawanmushi is a custard made from dashi, sake and eggs. This was a lovely little pot of a totally new flavours. I really enjoyed it.

Chawanmushi

The snacks accompanied our pre-dinner G&T where we were introduced to the Hooting Owl Distillery in York. Among their many products are four gins named for the four corners of the county. I had West Yorkshire, with all the cumin and turmeric of a Bradford curry, Lynne had South Yorkshire, based on liquorice and enough mint and rosemary to grace a Barnsley chop. We live in an age when artisan gin distilleries hide round every corner and behind every bush. Even the finest distilleries must struggle for exposure amid a tsunami of mediocrity. Hooting Owl should surf that tsunami; gin does not get any better than this.

Tomato

Textures of tomato, the subheading says, and here are tomatoes, some normal, some with skin off, some semi dried. Ricotta and basil are mentioned and clearly visible – they are welcome as old friends, of the tomato. XO, so as far as I know, is a Chinese sauce involving dried scallops and shrimps, Jinhua ham, garlic chilli and shallots. I did not recognise it here. There is seaweed, a Wigmore trademark, and I thought the waiter mentioned a white Japanese tomato with yuzu. I ate a tomato that seemed to be struggling awkwardly with citrus but I thought it was red.

Tomatoes, The Angel at Hetton

Lynne liked the elements, but could not see how they came together, I was just a little confused. What a shame we started with what we thought was by far the weakest course.

Wine. Etna Rosato, Pietradolce.
The sommelier was a bright and cheerful young woman, who took on the impossible task of finding a wine to compliment a dish of tomatoes with apparent enthusiasm. Michele Faro’s 11ha vineyard is on the side of Mt Etna 700+m up the mountain. He uses the local Nerello Mascalase grape and some of his vines have been producing for 120 years. His rosato is exceptional. Minerality and acidity come from the volcanic soil, while the vines generate a range of fruit flavours, with strawberry dominating. We could not find the redcurrant and cranberry mentioned by the sommelier, but we did find an orangey citrus note. I enjoy a good, dry rosé, and this was a very good dry rosé indeed.

Bread

Bread is never counted as a course but there comes a point in all such meals when somebody comes along and plonks down a basket of high-quality bread at a moment when you really have no use for it. Michael Wigmore , however, makes a laudable attempt to make sense of this interlude. Hokkaido milk bread is a light, fluffy bread in a shape suitable for tearing and sharing. With it came Ampersand butter, a traditionally made, batch churned cultured butter produced near Banbury, and a couple of dips. Colonnata lardo is a speciality of the Tuscan village of Colonnata. It is pork fatback cured for 6 months with layers of sea salt, garlic, rosemary, sage, pepper, and other local herbs/spices. Semi-liquid bacon is my best attempt at a description. The other dip was the rather more familiar taramasalata.

Bread, The Angel at Hetton

Not Wine. Poiré Granite, Eric Bordelet, Normandy
Our sommelier’s pick for this was not a wine but a sparkling poiré, or perry, in English. I rarely drink cider, and I had never previously tasted perry. Poiré Granit (referencing the local geology) is made by former sommelier Eric Bordelet in Normandy. It is made, we were told, in a way that more resembles champagne than cider. The retail cost is also reminiscent of (cheaper) champagne but unfortunately, the taste is not, and neither of us really liked it. Probably my first and last glass of perry.

Cod

This small, squat, white cylinder in the middle of its huge plate looked so lonely I felt sorry for it.

Cod, the Angel at Hetton

Then I unpacked it, removing the kombu, a variety of kelp very popular in Japan, and shifting the strips of cuttlefish to one side. Beneath it, balancing on the cod were two small, transparent circles of what I took to be potato, was this a homage to cod and chips?

I nibbled the kombu; it was all right. I nibbled the cuttlefish; the thin strips were remarkably tender. Lynne orders cuttlefish whenever it appears on a menu, but I am deterred by its resemblance to a bloated, yolkless boiled egg. The flavour is stronger than squid and it tastes more of the sea, but these strips were about texture not flavour.

Cod unpacked, The Angel at Hetton

The dark blobs were, presumably, smoked pike roe. There is no way of transferring the blob and its flavour to your mouth with a standard knife and fork. Michael Wigmore might aim for ‘casual’ but leaning forward and licking the plate would probably be a step too far.

The cod itself was remarkable. Surprisingly solid, but with flakes sliding across each other as if lubricated. The flavour was deep and intense; I never knew the humble cod could taste so sumptuous. I keep a list of platonic ideals, the food that has reached perfection. This makes the list, it is the cod that God would eat (if God a) exists, b) eats and c) likes cod.) Oddly I already have cod on my list, the product of a fish and chip shop in Reykjavik that was so fresh it was almost fluffy, so pristine it had to be eaten swiftly and in its entirety. There is room for both, apart from being cod, and being perfect, they have nothing in common.

Wine Rioja Blanco, Viñedos del Contino, Rioja Alavesa
I am old enough to remember when Rioja blanco spent years in oak barrels and the wines were stiff with oak. I rather liked them, but they went out of fashion and Rioja became all fruit flavours and crispness, often too thin and acid for me. Now a leading producer has put some oak back. The young sommelier was quick to note the oak was only to add structure and texture not oaky flavours, before admitting a hint of smoke and toast. I thought it struck a fine balance between oak and fruit, and was an inspired choice, few whites possess the structure to take on the dense flavoured cod.

Quail

Like the cod, the quail gave us a new view of an old favourite. In Portugal Lynne always buys and cooks quails, though our quail eating started long ago in France where they serve it guts and all. This quail breast was more tender, more moist and fuller flavoured than any I have met before. Onto the list it goes.

Quail

The carefully arranged accompaniments included:

Cotechino, an Italian sausage usually made of pork, but here made of quail. It was rich, savoury and subtly spiced.
Boudin Blanc, literally ‘white pudding.’ A ‘Full English’ breakfast usually includes black pudding, a sausage made from pigs’ blood, fat, cereal and spices. A ‘Full Irish’ can offer both local local black pudding and white pudding which is largely the same but without the blood. The French versions are similar but minus the cereal. They are softer, not a breakfast food, but more like paté. Michael Wigmore’s was very delicate in flavour.
Three tiny girolles that punched above their weight – I could have managed five!
Jerusalem artichoke ‘chip’ that supported my belief that there is little it can do that is not done better by a potato.

Wine. Pinot Noir, Winnica Turnau, Zachodniopomorske.
The sommelier seemed delighted to have sourced a Polish Pinot Noir. Winnica Turnau started planting in 2010 and today has 37ha making it Poland’s largest winery. Vivino display some comments, generally positive, though one remarks that it is overpriced. It apparently retails at around £30 a bottle. I am delighted to have tasted my first ever Polish wine, but sadly Lynne and I both felt it was borderline unpleasant. In retrospect we should have sent it back, but lacking experience of Polish wine, it had all gone before we were certain.

Peach

This was a very pretty dessert sitting in a delicate shortcrust pastry cup with baked white chocolate on the base and a peach sorbet on the top. I had to look up namelaka. It is a glossy, stabilized ganache made from white chocolate, milk, cream, and gelatine. So that is more white chocolate. balanced with fruit and flowers and a crumb beneath the sorbet. It is all very sweet and lovely.

Peach

Wine.“Kika” Chenin Blanc, Miles Mossop, Stellenbosch
Chenin Blanc is not generally considered a grape for the finest wines, either in South Africa or beside the Loire, but it is susceptible to ‘noble rot’ if left on the vine long enough. The grapes then shrivel, losing water but not sugar or flavour. Vinifying such intensely sweet grapes makes enough alcohol to kill off the yeast before it has consumed all the sugar, leaving sweet, or in this case, intensely sweet wine, balanced by the Chenin Blanc's high acidity. With a flowery aroma and a palate of honey and ginger, it is beguiling and even sweeter than the dessert it was paired with. Miles Mossop names his wine after family members, predictably his sweetest wine is named “Kika” after his youngest daughter.

Malt

The leading player in this act is the small brown truncated cone resembling a mini-Christmas pudding but tasting more like malt loaf – an almost forgotten memory. The menu also mentions dulce de leche; from Argentina (or Uruguay), it is a sweet, caramel-like spread made by slowly heating milk and sugar until it thickens and turns a rich golden-brown. I presume this forms the brown lines on the plate. Pearl barley also gets a mention, but where it was is a mystery. There was also salsify sticks, a vegetable I had not expected in a dessert, but they fitted well. I also noted a piece of pear, and a blob of something cool and dairy.

Malt

The menu also references Styrofoam, an inedible plastic used in packaging. I presume this is a reference to the pleasant crunchy stuff surrounding the main players and is a joke, of sorts. I may seem a little confused by parts of this dish, but we had been at the table for the best of three hours and drunk six glasses of wine (or perry) - not large glasses, but not small either. It was a pleasant end to the evening, not as sweet as the first dessert and not too demanding to eat (though describing it is another matter).

Wine. Anthemis, UWC Samos
The other way to make a sweet wine is to dump the must into alcohol of some sort, usually brandy, and so halt the fermentation before the yeast gets to the grape sugar. Anthemis is one such Vin de Liqueur. Made from Muscat Blanc à Petits Grains, it spends five years in oak barrels emerging a pleasing coppery orange. Intensely sweet, it retains the fresh aroma of the Muscat while the oak aging gives flavours of honey, smoke and toffee. It is possibly the only realistic answer to the question ‘what wine goes with Christmas pudding’? It also suits the malt loaf in this slightly less sweet dessert. It is a wonderful 'sticky' but, a little goes a long way.

The End (for tonight)

We finished the evening with coffee and sweet treats – petits fours to those less casual. We had enjoyed an excellent dinner, with great invention and with some real standouts. We had a good time, but it required a long period of concentration. Much work goes into producing such meals so we owe to the chef to take it seriously – and to us, to get our money’s worth!

Coffee and sweet treats

Breakfast

We awoke refreshed and got up in leisurely fashion. Last night the courses had been numerous, but the portions small enough not to interfere with our capacity to enjoy a good breakfast.

Breakfast presents Michelin starred restaurants with a problem. Diners go into the evening meal prepared to try novel combinations and new flavours but are rather more wary at breakfast. The solution is usually to go for top quality, but familiar ingredients simply cooked. This does not mean they cannot produce a dish worthy of my platonic list – I will remember the scrambled eggs at the Yorke Arms in nearby Ramsgill in 2013 for the rest of my life.

At the Angel the breakfast menu appeared to have another five courses, though the toast and preserves were presumably to be eaten together.

We started with yoghurt, made in-house and enhanced by a layer of fresh fruits and nuts, then we ate the trout, home cured and lightly smoked over hay and accompanied by crème freche and dill. The yoghurt woke the palate, and the trout (a breakfast first) was very delicately flavoured.

Yoghurt and trout

The toast is Shokupan, another Japanese milk bread, which went nicely with the ampersand butter and the preserves, made in-house like the bread and choux buns. Filled with tonka bean chantilly the buns were unbelievably light, while the filling was delicious,

Toast and choux buns

The meat was Nidderdale sausage, prize winning pork sausages made by Farmson and Co in Ripon. The bacon, also produced in-house, was more of a slice from a bacon joint with a sweet-cured rind than the usual back bacon, but none the worse for that.

Sausage and Bacon

Last up was a soft-boiled free-range Cornish egg. I am not sure Cornish chickens per se produced better eggs than Yorkshire (or even Staffordshire) chickens, but this was a fine egg and with the yolk dripping across ampersand butter, truly memorable. I have no photo, but if you have read this far, you probably know what an egg looks like.

And that finished our wedding anniversary gastronomic adventure. We may have risen eager to take on breakfast, but when we stood up from the table, we knew we had sacrificed lunch. It was worth it.

'Fine Dining' posts

Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree (2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)
The Cross, Kenilworth (& Kenilworth Castle) (2024)
The Angel at Hetton, North Yorkshire (2025, Golden Wedding Celebration)

See Also