The Martin's Arms
Note: I can't find the Martin's Arms website. They used to have one but it seems to have died.
The Martin's Arms is the best pub in England and, obviously therefore, in the World. It's a real pub. A chintzy, stylish, roaring log fires, cricket-on-the-village-green, spinsters-cycling-to-Mass-through-the-morning-mist kind of pub. The bar food is unsurpassable. Try some of their stilton potato cake, with a pint of Old Speckled Hen on summer Sunday lunchtime. The place will be packed of course, but you must get there early and fight for a table.
Once again, the instinct for a bargain had brought us out of town with the Times newspaper, "Eat Out For a Fiver (Actually a Tenner) Deal". I suppose these deals are supposed to offer a taster which will bring you back to sample the full a-la-carte offering. There can't be much profit in it for the restaurant, even if you upgrade to a dessert for an extra fiver.
We went tonight, on a frosty February Monday night and to be honest the welcome was a touch frosty as well. Our waitress made it quite clear how grievously she had been inconvenienced by our arrival and after leaving us to find our own table (and then moving us to another one) she left us alone to get our own drinks from the bar. Perhaps they were short-staffed, but the place was pretty much empty and she remained a brooding, malevolent presence all evening.
My Chicken Liver Parfait tasted authentically home made, but who knows? The accompanying cranberry dressing, a sort of marmalade with whole peppercorns, was really unusual and and wonderfully stimulating. I tried the Roast Pepper and Goats Cheese Bruschetta also, but the subtle, muted flavours could not compete with what came before and I must rely on the testimony of my date, who thought it excellent.
Beer is the new wine, dontcha-know? That's what they say in London apparently. Anyway, I drank draught IPA and Pedigree all night which were both in perfect shape and a great accompaniment to a meaty winter's dinner.
We both went for the Blade of Beef for mains which had been braised to falling-apart tenderness and was accompanied by the obligatory rich, sweet, dark sauce. The veg could have been more inspiring but overall I account it superb value for the £10 of the Times deal. No diddy portions here either and I supped more ale while my date was delighted with her Apple and Almond Tart.
The bill came to a more than reasonable £30, including drinks, and despite what it said on the menu about service-non-compris , my credit card bill came closed, sparing me the embarrassment of tipping the ice-maiden.
The Martin's Arms is the best pub in England and, obviously therefore, in the World. It's a real pub. A chintzy, stylish, roaring log fires, cricket-on-the-village-green, spinsters-cycling-to-Mass-through-the-morning-mist kind of pub. The bar food is unsurpassable. Try some of their stilton potato cake, with a pint of Old Speckled Hen on summer Sunday lunchtime. The place will be packed of course, but you must get there early and fight for a table.
Once again, the instinct for a bargain had brought us out of town with the Times newspaper, "Eat Out For a Fiver (Actually a Tenner) Deal". I suppose these deals are supposed to offer a taster which will bring you back to sample the full a-la-carte offering. There can't be much profit in it for the restaurant, even if you upgrade to a dessert for an extra fiver.
We went tonight, on a frosty February Monday night and to be honest the welcome was a touch frosty as well. Our waitress made it quite clear how grievously she had been inconvenienced by our arrival and after leaving us to find our own table (and then moving us to another one) she left us alone to get our own drinks from the bar. Perhaps they were short-staffed, but the place was pretty much empty and she remained a brooding, malevolent presence all evening.
My Chicken Liver Parfait tasted authentically home made, but who knows? The accompanying cranberry dressing, a sort of marmalade with whole peppercorns, was really unusual and and wonderfully stimulating. I tried the Roast Pepper and Goats Cheese Bruschetta also, but the subtle, muted flavours could not compete with what came before and I must rely on the testimony of my date, who thought it excellent.
Beer is the new wine, dontcha-know? That's what they say in London apparently. Anyway, I drank draught IPA and Pedigree all night which were both in perfect shape and a great accompaniment to a meaty winter's dinner.
We both went for the Blade of Beef for mains which had been braised to falling-apart tenderness and was accompanied by the obligatory rich, sweet, dark sauce. The veg could have been more inspiring but overall I account it superb value for the £10 of the Times deal. No diddy portions here either and I supped more ale while my date was delighted with her Apple and Almond Tart.
The bill came to a more than reasonable £30, including drinks, and despite what it said on the menu about service-non-compris , my credit card bill came closed, sparing me the embarrassment of tipping the ice-maiden.
2 Comments:
This is a very interesting blog idea. If I ever happen to be goingto Nottingham perhaps I may have to go back and read your reviews. ;-)
The Gate in Brassington (Derbyshire) gives the Martin's Arms a good run for its money in terms of Olde Englishe charm - like the 20th century never happened - and the food, while simple, is always bang on the money. As for pub food, The Druid in Birchover (also Derbyshire) is amazingly good, paricularly the terrines. Best kept secret is The Bowling Green in Ashbourne: 1970s Berni Inn decor, but it's all about the fish, personally selected by the chef each morning from Manchester Fish Market - he leaves home at 1.30 every morning to get there as soon as it comes off the back of the trucks.
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