When I was chuntering last week about the many peculiar omissions of the 2010 Michelin Guide, I partly had in mind the situation in Witney.
Here, if the Michelin Man is to be believed, there exists but one pub serving good food (the admittedly excellent Fleece beside Church Green) and no recommended restaurants at all, save for the out-of-town Mason Arms at South Leigh, run by the admirable Gerry Stonhill. This is famously a markedly eccentric establishment, of course, whose peculiarities — children, dogs, mobile phones and vegetarians all unwelcome; no credit cards – the guide chooses to flag up in the understated phrase “unique style and much individuality”.
I can only imagine that the inspectors have not penetrated as far as Corn Street, Witney. There they would find not one but two excellent pub restaurants, The Hollybush and, two hundred yards to the west on the other side of the road, The Horseshoes. Both are owned by the same enterprising catering whiz, John Champion, with his son Luke in day-to-day charge of The Horseshoes, which takes a slightly more upmarket approach to food (and which was favourably reviewed here last year).
It was two years or more since we had cast an appraising eye over The Hollybush, during which time there has been completed an elaborate revamp at the rear. This had brought indoors a large part of what had previously been outside (including the gents’ loo), and greatly added to the number of covers.
With friends from near Burford suggesting a dinner together at a halfway point between our homes, this seemed an ideal venue, not least because Rosemarie and I could easily reach it by bus. This was a rather important factor on the night we were proposing to visit, a Wednesday, when – in a generous gesture I wish all other licensees and restaurateurs would imitate – John sells his wines at half-price until 9pm.
This no doubt helps explain why the place was packed to the gunnels when we arrived. Fortunately, I had taken the precaution of booking a table in advance. Not just any table, but a favourite one of mine beside the window in the front bar. Being five minutes or so late (the bus was delayed), I guessed that we would find Rosie and Anthony already seated at it. I was correct.
We quickly settled the matter of drinks with a glass of half-price rioja and a bottle of drinkable Nagyrede Estate Hungarian Pinot Grigio (had we realised just how drinkable we’d sensibly have asked for our second before the 9pm deadline was reached). Our food ordered, we took delivery of it with surprising and welcome speed.
The starters were judged uniformly excellent. Mine was one of chef Peter Southey’s blackboard specials, a delicious warm salad of tender pieces of squid, chopped chorizo and diced roast potatoes. Others chose from the standard winter menu, seared scallops with beetroot relish and parmesan crisps for Rosie, a warm salad of plum tomato, basil and mozzarella with pesto dressing for Anthony, and juicy tiger prawns for Rosemarie, which came with intensely garlicky (and lemony) butter and rustic bread.
Other starters included deep-fried brie and three favourites: classic prawn cocktail, chicken liver paté and home-made soup.
For main course, Rosie and Anthony both went for the same vegetation option of wild mushroom stroganoff with a timbale of fragrant rice, and much enjoyed its creaminess and the flavour of the fungi. Rosie found the chopped gherkins a particularly welcome addition. (A lasagne of winter vegetables with goat’s cheese sauce was the other veggie dish.) Torn between a special of roast cod with spinach and tomatoes and beer-battered cod and chips, I settled eventually on the latter. I was glad I did, since the dish was perfect— a huge piece of pearly white loin in superb crisp batter, with skin-on potato wedge chips, mushy peas and home-made tartar sauce. Unbeatable!
Rosemarie had steak and kidney pudding. This looked a bit heavy on the suet pastry crust to me, but she loved it, especially the thick meaty filling which contained plenty of offal. It came with curly kale, red wine jus and her favourite mashed potato.
After that she had no room for pudding. Since I never order one, that left our guests on duty here. Sticky toffee pudding and properly unadorned crème brûlée – true classics both – were reported to be just as good as everything else is here.
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here