The Field Kitchen

First of all, an apology that this is quite possibly the latest review known to man. We're talking almost 4 months after visiting. No attempt at excuses, but I've been a bit busy emigrating to Spain. Which is why this is also likely to be the last review you'll be seeing on here. Thanks so much to everyone who has supported Girl Eats Oxford over the past couple of years, by reading, commenting, tweeting me, listening to the radio shows and inviting me along to try out your cafes, pubs and restaurants.

After the closure of The Ball Green Door, Oxford had a vacancy for a pop-up restaurant. Thankfully the city's would-be underground diners didn't have too long to wait: along came The Field Kitchen to supply that secret supper demand.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, pop-up restaurants have no permanent base, but hold evenings in different venues on an ad hoc basis. Run by chef Rupert and his team of able assistants, The Field Kitchen first 'popped up' on Hogacre Common during summer 2012, but has ventured inside for the winter months. I went along to one of its January nights at the Jericho Community Centre, a surprisingly cosy little venue on Canal Street.

Around 30 diners filled the cute, candle-lit room, made inviting by The Field Kitchen's own touches such as handmade tablecloths and vintage crockery. The atmosphere was somewhere between an intimate restaurant and a meal at a mate's: with smaller tables largely occupied by different groups of friends, it didn't have the same dinner party vibe as at at-home supper club, but it definitely had a sociable feel. Adding to the ambience was a guitarist, tucked away in the corner providing a soundtrack to our evening.

N and I were seated on a shared table with another pair of diners, who we chatted to over a welcome glass of red wine. The menu is available to view in advance of events on The Field Kitchen's website, but it was also chalked up on a board as a reminder. We started with puy lentil, fennel and carrot broth served with homemade sourdough bread.

Lentil broth

Rustic in appearance, it was a comforting dish with a hint of paprika lending welcome winter warmth. Even Goldilocks would have approved of the portion size: just enough for a starter.

Sea bass

After a short interlude, the team whisked in our main course from the van outside. The Field Kitchen is fully mobile: even the cooking facilities are on wheels. The fillet of sea bass was served with a warm salad of roasted squash, balsamic red onions and rocket. My plate was a little squash-lite, but N's had a better ratio. It was light and fresh, made seasonal by the accompaniments. Vegetarians were offered the same dish with halloumi in place of fish.

Treacle tart

The 'winner' of the night (in N's immortal words) was the dessert. 'Mum's treacle tart' came served with a dollop of lemon zest-topped creme fraiche, and was utterly delicious. Incredibly flavoursome, it rounded off the relatively healthy meal with a good helping of indulgence.

All in all, it was a lovely evening with great food and a brilliant ambience. Everything ran smoothly, with only a short wait between courses. More fun than visiting a restaurant yet without the overly intimate feel that makes some people unsure about supper clubs: if you don't fancy sharing a table with 4 or more other diners, the Field Kitchen is definitely one for you.

Price: £35 per head. I was a guest of the Field Kitchen (thank you!).

Verdict: 8
For upcoming dates and locations, visit the Field Kitchen website.

And that's all from me. Hasta luego!

St Aldates Tavern

A narrow-fronted pub tucked inconspicuously away next to the Post Office, St Aldates Tavern had barely caught my eye during my ten years in Oxford. Passing by, I'd occasionally observe a few patrons chatting outside over a cigarette and a pint, but I was never once tempted to step through its doors. Not even during that phase when it served Thai food (somewhat incongrously, given its British boozer exterior). It just never looked like anything special. These days are gone, however. Now under new management, St Aldates Tavern is no longer an average spot for a city-centre pint: it's been given a makeover and a decent menu. Nowadays, it's an ideal venue for an after-work bite to eat, a catch-up with friends over a glass of wine, or erm... a city-centre pint.

Don't get me wrong, St Aldates Tavern hasn't gone all gastro. There are no high-backed leather chairs, faux-distressed tables and arty wallcoverings here. The interior is tasteful and minimal: it's definitely still a pub, but its wooden tables, neutral colour scheme and tasteful fixtures and fittings hint at a slightly higher end market than its previous incarnation. Walking in on a Friday evening, it was almost standing-room only: luckily, we managed to grab a little table at the back, behind the bar. Winding our way through the pub, C and I noticed tables of hungry customers tucking into sharing boards and platefuls of hearty-looking food. Never having seen the menu (unfortunately their website wasn't yet up and running), I was pleased to notice that the dishes being demolished looked more appetising than standard pub grub.

It certainly promised to be appetising, with the announcement at the head of the menu that all food is homemade from fresh ingredients every day – and on the premises, no less. The all-day menu (food is served from 12–9.30pm) is unpretentious but appealing: classics such as sausage and mash (£7) and beer-battered fish and chips (£7.50) sit along side a few 'St Aldates Specials' (such as crevettes with braised fennel and aioli, £8.50, and rump steak with hand-cut chips, £9.50). There are also a couple of dishes to share; ideal accompaniments for a post-work glass of wine: there's a baked camembert with freshly-baked bread (£8.50) and a charcuterie board featuring smoked duck breast, chicken liver parfait and ham hock terrine (£14). Prices are surprisingly reasonable given the pub's central location: but does the low price mean comparable quality, or petite portion sizes?

Oh hi, camembert

No, as it turned out. C and I devoured our whole baked camembert (I blame the appetite we'd worked up over a glass of red) pretty damn quickly: it was just too tasty. The centre was perfectly melted throughout, and the warm fresh bread ideal for scooping up the cheesy goodness. C pronounced it the best baked camembert she'd ever eaten, and I'd have to agree. Now I know that sticking a cheese in the oven doesn't sound like the most challenging of feats, but getting the right consistency is something of an art form. And it's one that the chef at St Aldates Tavern has clearly mastered. Add to that the touch of honey crowning the camembert, and welcome to cheese bliss.

Witness the fitness

My main course of roast pepper and butterbean stew (£7.50, one of 3 vegetarian options) had a hard act to follow, but it put in a sterling performance. In addition to peppers, the stew also featured a selection of other veg, including courgettes plus plenty of herbs, making it tastier than anticipated. I admit I hesitated before ordering, as I find that vegetable stews can often be disappointingly watery in consistency, but the St Aldates version was robust and tasty.

Vegetable and butterbean stew

C opted for the 8oz beef burger served with hand-cut chips (£8.50), which came topped with red onion and cheese. It was cooked medium (just right, apparently), with a well-seasoned, herby flavour. The bun was toasted, the salad topping worked well: all in all, an excellent burger, apparently. Both our mains were on a par with a gastropub offering, at a more modest price.

Beef burger

If your appetite is more restrained than ours, St Aldates Tavern also serves bar snacks (from £3). Although about half of the customers were dining, it's very much a pub: there are 8 beers on tap, priced from £3.70 a pint. There's also a decent wine list, with small glasses from £2.20 – but be warned, large glasses don't come in so cheap, with the house white £4.85 for 250ml and the most expensive wines over the £8 mark. Bottles are better value, so all the more excuse to settle in for the evening and order some dinner while you're at it.

With a strong menu of well-cooked – and well-priced – food, a wide choice of drinks at an average city centre rate, a comfortable setting and friendly service, St Aldates Tavern is worth a visit. After ten years, it's now well and truly on my radar.

Verdict: 8.5

St Aldates Tavern is at 108 St Aldates, OX1 1BU. Tel: 01865 241185.

Apologies for the silence: fortnightly reviews to be resumed!

Ashmolean Roof Top

If you want to marvel at some Egyptian mummies, check out some Chinese ceramics or study some still-life paintings, you'd go to the Ashmolean. If you want to enjoy a post-work drink with a difference, accompanied with a tapas-style bite to eat, turns out you'd go to the Ashmolean too.

A prestigious museum isn't the first place that springs to mind when you think fine dining, but in-the-know Oxford residents have been enjoying the Ashmolean's top-floor restaurant since the museum's extensive re-fit finished in 2009. With lavish lunches and afternoon teas on offer during gallery opening hours, the Ashmolean Dining Room transforms on Thursday and Friday nights. Step through the concealed doorway on St Giles and take the lift skywards: an evening on the roof terrace awaits.

The restaurant itself is full of light, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows maximising the view of the historical Randolph Hotel and beyond to Oxford's famous spires. One of these windows is a sliding door, opening onto the terrace. Thanks to our wonderful British weather, this terrace is sadly under-exploited for much of the year, but once summer rolls around (hurry up, would you?), this space is the place to be. There's an extensive area of decking with tables and chairs for informal dining, plus a patch of real grass with deck chairs that's perfect for lounging after a hard day's work.

In addition to a well-chosen wine list, a selection of wines and beers, the Roof Top menu also offers three appropriately-named cocktails: the Randolph, the Oxford Fool Sling and the Rooftop Daiquiri £6 each). N, D, M and I tested the range between us, with the vodka and cointreau Randolph and the rum-based daiquiri winning particular praise. The watermelon flavour of the Randolph makes it the perfect summer drink. Sadly the weather on our visit didn't quite fall into the 'perfect summer' category, but we didn't let a spot of rain stop us from ploughing through the entire food menu.

With dishes designed to be shared, the Roof Top's is ideal for a sociable post-work bite (or what I like to all a pre-dinner dinner). Or, if you order everything on offer as we did, you'll have more than enough for an evening meal. The select menu features a range of 'small plates', priced £4 each or 3 for £11. There are also sharing boards featuring either meat or cheese or a combination of the two for £14.50 a pop. These nibbles are definitely pricier than a bag of crisps down your local pub, but they're also a damn sight tastier – and more filling.

Meat and cheese boards

Gee's

A lounge suit, a scholar's gown or even black tie is a common sight on the streets of Oxford. Even on a Tuesday evening. With the staff and students of the city's ancient university accounting for a significant percentage of Oxford's population, you soon get used to its quirks – smart dress mid-week being one of them. After all, this traditional institution has plenty of balls, formal dinners and graduation ceremonies in its calendar. The latter are particularly proud occasions, when beaming families dressed in their finest flock to the Sheldonian Theatre in support of a be-gowned graduand. Ceremony over, it's time to celebrate. But where in Oxford is worthy of such an occasion?

A Victorian conservatory nestled discreetly among university buildings and chic shopfronts on Banbury Road, that's where. Part of the Mogford group of restaurants, Gee's is many Oxford residents' go-to address when it comes to occasion dining. There are regulars too, of course, but I'd wager that a high proportion of diners only visit erm, occasionally. It's a favourite for families celebrating their offspring's intelligence post-graduation, and a popular option for Sunday lunch when well-heeled parents swing by Oxford for a term-time visit. But what does Gee's have to offer those without an event to toast?

The High Table

Set menus strike horror into the hearts of some people. That pared-down list of culinary offerings signifies a lack of choice; a limit on your tastebuds. This is sometimes undeniably so. However, set menus can also represent significant savings: they can be a chance to check out what’s on offer at a ritzy restaurant while keeping your spending on the down low. Personally, I don’t mind eating early and picking from a reduced menu if it enables me to satisfy my stomach with chi chi cuisine at a fair price.

The aptly-named High Table sits inside the High Street’s Eastgate Hotel. Popular with tourists due to its prime location, it’s also increasingly name-checked by local residents on Twitter. I visited a number of years ago and remember being impressed by the high quality of the traditional dishes served, but memories of a rather stuffy interior delayed my return visit until this year. Following a facelift, the High Table is no longer a staid hotel dining room: the traditional space has been given a modern touch with fashionable furniture and light colours. It met with my mother’s approval: and that’s no mean feat.

Mrs T also approved of the menu, too: at The High Table, prix fixe merely restricted to the earlybird slot. In addition to their excellent value Monday to Saturday offer (£10.95 for two courses at lunch and from 6 until 7pm), there’s also a slightly higher priced set menu on Sundays until 2 (two courses for £13.95, three for £16.95). With four options on offer for each course, there’s slightly more choice than on most set menus, and I noted to my satisfaction that two of the starters were vegetarian.

Over a basket of fresh warm bread, we perused the options.Mr and Mrs T both chose smoked trout salads with mango, chilli, lime and coriander to start.

Shocking phone photo of smoked trout salad

Immaculately and artistically presented, they were what Mrs T termed ‘proper starter sizes’: no spoiling your appetite here, these entrées were designed to leave you salivating for more rather than satisfied. I suppose serving so many set menus encourages balanced portion sizes. The salad’s ingredients worked harmoniously together to create a fresh, summery flavour combination rather than an overpowering culinary equivalent of the tower of Babel.

Watermelon and ricotta salad

My watermelon and ricotta salad with podded peas and green beans was also perfectly presented and an interesting summer dish, but I did feel that the taste of the watermelon dominated the cheese, so perhaps an extra flavour element would have been welcome here.

Blurry chicken

Much to Mr T’s dismay, there was no roast beef to be had by the time we sat down, so the traditional roast was substituted for chicken. As a chap who likes his hearty meals (a little too much, Mrs T might say), my dad was a little disappointed by the portion size but once again impressed by the presentation. The rosemary-infused roast potatoes also helped to win him around. Mrs T’s pork belly with apple purée and Madeira jus looked decidedly unappetising to my vegetarian eyes, but she assured me it was well-cooked and melted in her mouth, although the crackling could have been crispier. My pan-fried Cornish bream was perfectly cooked, light and flaky, combining well with the accompanying panzanella salad (although this was just a touch too oily).

Pan-fried bream

With friendly and efficient service and tasty and interesting dishes served in an inviting setting, The High Table deserves to steal another High Street institution’s crown. The price-quality ratio was spot on, and the ample availability of set menus is a definite winner in my book. However, if the portion sizes on the a la carte menu are similarly sized, you’ll definitely need more than a main to satisfy your stomach – even if your appetite isn’t as healthy as Mr T’s.

Verdict:7.5/10

The High Table is at71-73 High Street, OX1 4BE. Tel: 01865 248695.

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Quod

The two glasses of champagne on the table should have been a giveaway, but it was actually the suit that did it. When my friend D called to say he was back in Oxford and asked me to meet him at Quod on bank holiday Monday, I was pleasantly surprised. When I arrived to find him smartly clad and elated, I knew something was afoot. And I was right: his four years of hard work had paid off and my very clever friend had just been awarded his doctorate. Wonderful news absorbed and champagne in hand, surely nothing could spoil my lunch.

Self-promoted as 'the busiest brasserie and bar in Oxford', Quod is a bit of a High Street institution: all gloss and chrome, it's true that it's usually bustling with tourists and locals alike, drawn by its atmosphere and sleek good looks as well as its menu. I must admit that since a brush with a main course portion of ravioli featuring a mere nine parcels of pasta (£1 per spinach-stuffed sheet) many years ago, I haven't been Quod's biggest fan. But on a day like this, I was willing to give them a chance.

As it was a bank holiday, the £11.95 two course menu wasn't on offer, so we perused the selection of modern British/European brasserie fare, from seasonal dishes such as fennel, cucumber and dill salad (£5.50) and roast chicken breast with courgette and saffron risotto (£13.95) to burgers, pasta and some interesting-sounding pizzas (including courgette, broad bean and spinach with lemon and pecorino). Avoiding the £11.95 artichoke ravioli, I opted for a starter of gazpacho (£5.95), while D went for the steak tartare (£7.95).

Steak tartare

The idea of raw meat may be completely alien to me, but D's quite the fan of uncooked flesh, and as a chap with high standards I was happy to believe his assessment of the beautifully-presented dish as an eight out of ten. Topped with a quail's egg still sitting in a half shell, the patty of beef came with tomatoes and cucumbers already blended into the mixture: apparently this isn't usual and D prefers to mix in the vegetables himself, but the quality and taste of the well-seasoned meat made up for it.

Gazpacho

I should have known better than to order gazpacho. After sampling heaven in a bottle thanks to Pedro's mum, chilled blended vegetables will never taste as good again. I can only assume Quod's blender was on the blink though, as I received a dish of cold chunky vegetables with two cubes of ice nestling on top of them. I have been presented with 'rustic'-style gazpacho in the UK before, but the ice cubes in a £5.95 portion served in a restaurant of this ilk was just plain lazy. Unfortunately, the tomato, cucumber and pepper mush didn't improve on tasting; it was under-seasoned and far too chewy. My jaw didn't get such a workout with Pedro's mum's gazpacho, that's all I'm saying.

Seafood risotto

My main course of risotto of the day (an interesting idea, especially if most of them are vegetarian, thus sidestepping the wild mushroom trap) improved matters somewhat. Seafood-based, I wasn't quite sure of the exact ingredients given the volume at which the waitress whispered its existence to us, but I detected prawns, clams and possibly mullet. Just creamy enough, the rice was perfectly cooked and the flavour of the fish was subtle rather than overpowering. I chose the smaller portion, which was just enough following a starter.

Spaghetti bolognaise

'School dinner', I said when D's plate of spaghetti bolognaise (another special, chosen in honour of his impending move to Italy) slid onto the table. 'If the steak tartare got an eight for presentation, this is a two', he agreed. A bowlful of pasta topped with what seemed to be a mere ladleful of sauce, this dish was a letdown: although the taste was OK, the pasta-to-sauce ratio was completely imbalanced.

I was right that nothing could spoil my lunch, although the gazpacho certainly tried. Underwhelmed once again by Quod, I was too overwhelmed by D's good news to care. I can't say I'll be rushing back: although the risotto was tasty and enjoyable, a sense of trading on their reputation prevailed. And when you're serving iced gazpacho, it's time to question whether that reputation can be maintained.

Verdict: 6/10

Quod is at 92-94 High Street, Oxford OX1 4BJ. Tel: 01865 202505.

The Punter

When an Oxford pub's buzzing at 7pm on a Wednesday, it's a sign you're on to a good thing. And when it's a pub in a tucked-away location unlikely to attract passing trade, you better get yourself in there.

Formerly known as The Waterman's Arms due to its riverside setting, The Punter sits on the corner of South Street on Osney Island. Reopened with its new name and new look in 2010, The Punter has been reeling in both island residents and those in the know for months, enticing them with its pretty location, relaxed atmosphere and appetising menu.

Stepping inside, my first impression was of a bustling yet laid-back watering hole. The traditional interior has been enhanced with a neat blue and white colour scheme and eclectic decor; beams and church pews nodding towards country pub, a lived-in feel preventing it from seeming contrived.  Settling ourselves in at a large wooden table, we perused the menu over a decent glass of house white (£14 a bottle - wines here aren't cheap). If the decor has hints of country, The Punter's menu is much more smart pub-about town. Changing daily, offerings range from pub classics given a gastro twist (such as wild boar and apple sausages with mash, £11) to Italian and Spanish influenced dishes (including the sea bass fillet with panzanella salad, £12). With starters priced up to £6.50 and mains reaching a maximum £14, dining at The Punter is reasonably-priced, but when the three £7 dinner options are considered, it becomes positively good value. On our visit, the dishes on offer were at the simpler end of the spectrum yet still tempting: salmon fillet with new potatoes and green beans, chicken curry with spicy aubergine and gnocchi with mushrooms and spinach.

Feeling hungry, B and I opted for starters. Almost all of them sounded substantial, and I'd usually expect to see dishes such as red mullet with saffron risotto and salsa verde under the main course heading of a menu. My crayfish paella with alioli (£5.50) was well-presented and full of flavour; limiting the seafood content to crayfish alone worked surprisingly well and the hint of saffron combined beautifully with the garlicky, lemon-infused alioli. The rice was a little underdone though: a few more minutes cooking time wouldn't have gone amiss and would have reduced the slight excess of stock.

Crayfish paella

B's goat's cheese, tomato, red onion and caper bruschetta (£5) certainly wasn't short of topping: there was no skimping on the goat's cheese, which worked well with the tasty sundried tomatoes and sticky balsamic vinegar.

Goat's cheese and tomato bruschetta

When the main courses arrived, we noted that L's £7 chicken curry was served in almost as generous a portion as the other mains. Served with rice and yoghurt, she found it flavoursome (spicy but not too hot, the aubergine tasting slightly sweet) but perhaps a little lacking in sauce.

Chicken curry

S's grilled sea bass with panzanella (an Italian salad of bread, tomato, red onion and cucumber) was simple summer food done well, the salad adding a fresh taste to the dish. Osney Island resident S went as far as to say it was the best dish she'd tried at The Punter so far.

Sea bass with panzanella

B's lamb leg steak was well cooked; tender and slightly pink in the middle. It was given an eastern twist with harissa seasoning and accompaniments of imam bayildi (Turkish-style aubergine stuffed with onion, garlic and tomatoes), cous cous and tzatziki (£14). The aubergine complemented the lamb well, but the cous cous was slightly dry, although the addition of almonds and capers made up for it. Nothing could save the tzatziki though: it was a fairly flavourless contribution to the plate.

Lamb leg steak with imam bayildi

My whole plaice with lentils and salsa verde (£14) was huge: well-cooked and light, the fish slid off the bone easily. The lentils and salsa verde were simple but effective additions, but again there was a slight excess of liquid.

Plaice with lentils

Spurred on by the successful mains, we ordered desserts: a British cheese board (£6), a brownie with vanilla ice cream and a vanilla and chocolate semi freddo (both £5). The cheese board was poorly presented and served with Jacob's crackers, but the cheese went down well. The brownie was a bit chewy and undercooked and the less said about the semi freddo the better: a mixture of cream, chocolate and some sort of almond biscuit base, it wasn't quite what I'd had in mind.

Cheese board

Brownie

Semi freddo

Although the desserts were disappointing and there are definitely some quirks in the kitchen that need to be smoothed out, the overall verdict was positive. The menu has definite potential: the simply-cooked, seasonal dishes stood out from the slightly over-ambitious ones. For me, it was the atmosphere that really made the evening, though: laid-back and inviting, The Punter's a perfect pub for a relaxed evening with friends. And apparently the cast of Lewis think so too: they were all down there the following evening. Well, if it's good enough for Kevin Whateley, it's good enough for me too.

Verdict: 7/10

You can listen to me discussing The Punter and other pubs and gastro pubs on Jo Thoenes's show on BBC Radio Oxford here until 2 September.

The Punter is at 7 South Street, Osney Island OX2 0BE. Tel: 01865 248832.

The Ashmolean Dining Room: Autumn/winter menu

Can you ever be too discreet? In these financially hard times, it seems that almost everyone bar footballers and Z-list celebrities now subscribe to the maxim that less is more. And while I'm definitely of the opinion that these two groups would do well to get on board with this trend, I also think that the Ashmolean Dining Room could blow it's own trumpet a little louder. Not so loud as to be vulgar, you understand: just enough to be audible and to make its presence felt on the Oxford restaurant scene.

As part of the Ashmolean's extensive re-fit which culminated in 2009, the museum not only gained extra gallery space: it also acquired a rooftop restaurant. A swish, understated space looking out across the Randolph and beyond, the Dining Room has an ample terrace (shame it's in a country lacking ample summers) and even a patch of be-deck-chaired grass for those who fancy an al fresco aperitif of an evening. With a seasonal menu of British and European fare, the Ashmolean Dining Room makes a much-needed contribution to dining in the OX1 postcode: or at least it would, if more people actually realized it was there.

When one of my Twitter followers drew my attention to a new menu tasting and 'networking' evening event at the Dining Room, I put my name down almost as quickly as Peter Andre signs up to the opening of a letter. Although my curiosity hadn't yet been piqued sufficiently to make it through that discreet entrance on St Giles, I had caught the odd murmur that the restaurant was worth a visit. Expecting an hour of bite-size portions on a buffet table and a spot of mingling, I was surprised when our party of six was shown to a table, glasses of prosecco in hand. The one copy of the autumn/winter menu we were given revealed we were in for an evening of sampling a balance of hearty, comforting dishes and lighter, Mediterranean-inspired fare.

Starters

Cauliflower and pine nut salad

 Cauliflower isn't the most common salad ingredient, and dare I say rightly so: the salad of cauliflower and pine nuts with a raisin and caper dressing was universally judged under-seasoned, and I found the cold cauliflower a little undercooked. Much better use was made of this winter vegetable in the thick, creamy cauliflower and truffle oil soup. Served in a vintage teacup, this thick, creamy number was sophisticated cold-weather comfort food, the truffle oil enhancing rather than overpowering the taste of the cauliflower.

Crab panna cotta

Creativity certainly has its place in the kitchen, but sometimes the quality of the ingredients should do the talking. This was definitely the case when it came to the ill-judged crab panna cotta: the glutinous cream tasted of crab on first bite, but when applied to the accompanying toast it lost all flavour. As T pointed out, it was made with the crab's white meat rather than the more flavoursome brown meat, and I understand why - who wants a brown panna cotta? The brown crab meat served on a chicory leaf atop the glass was much tastier, proving that simplicity can pay off.

Gravadlax

I'm not usually a gravadlax fan, but the Ashmolean's home-cured gravadlax with cucumber relish and a chive creme fraiche may have changed that. A further testament to the powers of simplicity, the flavours combined well and the quality of the smoked salmon stood out. Usually served with rye bread, this would be quite a substantial starter.

Serrano ham & figs

I couldn't try the meaty starters of serrano ham and figs with chardonnay vinegar and honey syrup or Trealy Farm air-dried ham with a celeriac remoulade, but my companions attested to the taste of both. Opinions were divided over preferred hams: M praised the contrast between the sweet figs and the salty serrano ham while S went into raptures over the remoulade. L was more prosaic: apparently the mini gherkins lifted the dish, 'otherwise it was just a plate of fancy ham and coleslaw'.

 I was very pleased I was able to eat the grilled squid marinated in lemon, garlic and smoked paprika and served with a rocket salad (also available as a main course). In Spain, squid is usually kept simple, so I wouldn't have thought to add the paprika, but its subtle, woody flavour made the dish. The excellent quality squid did all the ground work of course, but the spice stole the show and made it a universal favourite at our table.



Main courses

Pearl barley with wild mushrooms

As a pescetarian, one of my main gripes is the lack of inventive vegetarian main courses on the menus of many upmarket restaurants. So when I spotted a main of sauteed pearl barley with wild mushrooms, leeks and spinach, I had high hopes for the Ashmolean: and I wasn't disappointed. Another winner, this filling autumnal dish was understated yet full of flavour. T suggested it was merely a posh take on that veggie staple, mushroom risotto, but I disagreed - for me, the pearl barley took the dish to a different dimension.

The chargrilled bream with glazed lemon chicory and lime creme fraiche was served whole, and although to M it was one of the most appetising dishes on the menu, to me it looked like a plate of grey (hence the lack of photo). It was simple and well done, and although I remained unconvinced (sometimes a whole fish is just too fussy), everyone else polished it off with gusto. The lamb rump with chargrilled vegetables and a black olive jus was another hit: the meat-eaters were divided between this and the bream when it came
to favourites. The jus had a strong flavour which lifted rather than  overpowered the dish, and the vegetables were a well-judged complement.

More successful for me was the salad of candied beetroot and spiced pecans topped with a goat's cheese fritter. Perhaps better off as a starter (although presumably the salad will be beefed up for paying guests), this was an excellent flavour combination, with the beetroot adding an earthy tang to the dish and the pecans contributing a crunch (and tasting 'of German Christmas', according to S. Very seasonal, then).

The sole meuniere was another dud for me: bony and unappetising, I passed this one on quickly. The braised rabbit leg served with savoy cabbage, roasted carrots and a mustard and tarragon sauce was fairly well-received among the carnivores, but the monkfish tail saltimbocca got a universal thumbs down: a strange cut of monkfish served with a few carrots that brought nothing to the party.




Desserts

After eating our way through the entire menu bar the rib-eye steak, I'm a firm believer in the existence of the pudding stomach. Somehow we found room for panna cotta with a cassis poached pear: the cassis was barely discernible, but the panna cotta was perfect in consistency and flavour. Simple but effective, this dessert was one of the most memorable dishes for me.

The Paris Brest (choux pastry filled with hazelnut cream) was perhaps more of an afternoon cake than an after-dinner dessert, but it was beautiful: rich and creamy with excellent pastry. A whole one may have been a little too much, but A and I were more than happy to devour half each.

The chocolate and amaretti sponge may not have impressed visually, but the taste was spot on: the subtle aftertaste of amaretti even won over almond-avoiding M, and T praised the crispy amaretti crust, which brought an unusual textural element.






With some well-judged, skilfully prepared seasonal fare, the Ashmolean Dining Room's autumn/winter menu offers more than a few worthwhile options. There were definitely a few dud dishes and others that disappointed slightly among the starters and the mains, but those that were kept simple and based around successful flavour combinations really stood out. As for the desserts, there wasn't a let-down in sight, although the prices are somewhat steep at £6-7: in my opinion, desserts should stay around the £5 mark. In general, prices are what you would expect of a rooftop restaurant, perhaps slightly less: starters range from £6-8, while mains go from £11 to £19 for the steak. It's not cheap, but the sophisticated setting makes the Ashmolean ideal for a celebration yet accessible enough for a slightly special occasion. In my opinion, the weekend counts as one of those. Next time you walk past that discreet entrance on St Giles, consider stepping inside: you won't be disappointed (as long as you avoid the crab panna cotta). And a bit of word-of-mouth marketing wouldn't go amiss either: just don't tell Peter Andre, will you?


Update September 2011: Returning to the Ashmolean as a guest on a 'normal' evening, the quality of the food was possibly better than that on offer at the new menu tasting. I chose a starter of  smoked paprika squid, and was again impressed by the taste - and this time, I got a generous portion all to myself. The pearl barley was just as good as I remembered, and the panna cotta even better: this time the pear was discernibly poached in cassis. Choose carefully from the menu and enjoy.

Verdict: 8

The Ashmolean Dining Room is at the Ashmolean Museum, OX1 2PH. Open Sun, Tues & Weds 10am-6pm and Thurs-Sat 10am-10pm. Tel: 01865 553823.

The Fishes

When exactly does a pub become a gastro pub? Is it when the menu extends beyond shepherd's pie and fish and chips into more adventurous culinary territory, perhaps? We've all heard the term 'gastro pub' bandied around in the media, but nobody seems entirely sure of its exact definition. And to complicate matters further, when does one of these gastro pubs cross that blurry dividing line and become a restaurant? Defining itself as a gastro pub, The Fishes gave us food for thought on both these issues.

Located in the pretty village of North Hinksey just west of Oxford, The Fishes has a charming setting. With a large garden and a terrace for dining outside, it's a prime spot for making the most of the glimpses of sunshine that pass for a British summer. Stepping inside, the feeling is overwhelmingly upscale: smartly-clad waitresses swishing across polished wood floors, 'country luxe' decor in muted tones, silver fish hanging on the perfectly painted walls. There are no rough edges here: The Fishes is all gloss. We were seated at a corner table in the expansive dining room to peruse the menu, complemented on this occasion by the Wednesday steak night specials. Glancing from the few customers perched on stools by the bar and our well-heeled fellow diners, I knew we were definitely in 'gastro' territory. However, presumably to keep things (faux-)casual, the table was cluttered with side plates, water and wine glasses and a jar of cutlery. Not laid, you understand: they were all just sitting there, waiting to be used. An odd (and slightly lazy) touch.

Adding to The Fishes' gastro credentials, head chef Charlie Barr previously worked for Rick Stein in Cornwall, before moving to a Michelin-starred restaurant in Birmingham. Her seasonal menu is well-organised, beginning with deli boards to share and leading into starters, mains and 'either/or' dishes featuring both British and European influences. Many choices, such as free range sausages and mash, are classic pub grub prepared with high quality ingredients, while options such as duck breast with a warm apricot, courgette and potato salad move far beyond the repertoire of a bog-standard boozer.

We started with a tempting-sounding veggie deli board (£11), a selection of sundried tomato houmous, pitta bread, olives, spicy feta peppers, breaded courgettes and tomato salsa.

Veggie deli board

The portion size was generous and there were plenty of tidbits to try, with the courgette strips and chilli-infused peppers particulary tasty. As I had envisaged it would be, presentation was immaculate, but ultimately we were all left with a slight sense of style over substance. The pitta bread was all sliced into perfectly-proportioned strips but there wasn't quite enough of it, the sundried tomato houmous tasted a little of pizza base and we weren't really sure what role tomato salsa was meant to play in the whole affair: as a sharing platter goes, it was a bit on the fiddly side, prompting a few 'how do I eat this' dilemmas.

Our main courses hit a much better note. The caesar salad (large £10.75) was indeed large, with plenty of good quality chicken, bacon and anchovies sitting atop a bed of crisp lettuce, although there was a tad too much dressing for A's liking.

Caesar salad

My herb pancakes stuffed with tomato, courgette and ricotta and baked in a red pepper sauce (large £11.75) were available either with or without salmon; I opted for 'with' given the price tag. Although the salmon added substance, I don't think a purely vegetarian dish would have seemed lacklustre given the richness of the other ingredients: in fact, the dish may even have been improved with fewer flavours fighting it out. My only criticism of this hearty dish of comfort food was the slightly soggy bottom of the pancakes: a little too much sauce had been used perhaps. Although nobody likes a soggy bottom, it didn't really spoil my enjoyment of the meal.

Herb pancakes with tomato, courgette & ricotta

S's free-range chicken breast with a tomato, broad bean and pearl barley risotto (£14) was the stand-out main. A simple but effective combination of seasonal ingredients, crispy chicken skin and a healthy helping of the pearl barley risotto (an under-featured menu item) made this dish a success.

As we were clearly having something of a cocoa craving, we all bypassed the summer pudding and lemon posset (the summer 2011 dessert du jour, I've noticed) and opted for the warm flourless chocolate cake (£5.50) served with vanilla ice cream (or salted caramel in the case of S, who asked if they minded switching flavours: they didn't). Beautifully presented again, the cake was a dense, intense hit of chocolate - almost like a brownie. S was less convinced, but the salted caramel ice cream won her round.

Flourless chocolate cake

Even the coffee is beautiful at The Fishes

Over coffee, we pondered the gastro pub issue further. A pub, we all agreed, is somewhere you go for a drink. There's probably some sort of food on offer (sometimes pretty good quality food), but it's unlikely that you'd visit solely to dine. And you definitely wouldn't call to book a table: informality reigns at pubs. At a gastro pub, however, the focus is on food: you go there because you want to eat there. By this definition, The Fishes is most definitely a gastro pub, perhaps erring on the restaurant side of things. Yes, it serves real ales and has an occasional pub quiz, but the majority of customers visit to sample what's on the menu. And given the pretty location and the quality cooking on offer, I can understand why. It may not be exactly to my taste in terms of style, and the bill was definitely on the pricey side for a mid-week dinner, but after a visit I can see why The Fishes enjoys the reputation it does.

The Fishes is in North Hinksey Village, OX2 0NA. Tel: 01865 249796 or book online. Reservations recommended at weekends.

The Rickety Press

Pubs just used to be pubs. Places you'd go in for a drink or two, maybe some unfussy British grub if you were hungry. How things have changed. Popping out for a pie and a pint is a complicated business nowadays. Do you favour a classic old man pub, a tarted up pub with fancy decor, or a pub so gastro it may as well be termed a restaurant? On most nights, you'll find me somewhere in the middle of this complex camp: I like a pub to be a place you can just dive into for a drink rather than somewhere you feel you have to dine to be welcome - and if you do wish to tuck in, you shouldn't have to book in. Some tasteful decor and friendly staff never go amiss, either. Fussy? Nah, not me.

The second Oxford offering from the team behind the successfully transformed Rusty Bicycle, the former Radcliffe Arms in Jericho has emerged from its scampi-and-sports ashes as The Rickety Press. With a smart yet relaxed interior featuring plenty of tastefully arranged books, navy and cream walls and a light-filled conservatory with fresh flowers on wooden tables, The Rickety Press falls on the gastro side of things, but is still very much a pub. So far, so up my street. Opened in May, there isn't yet a wine list, but staff happily talked us through the wines on offer, and the choice of real ales and cider was enough to satisfy all of our party. Thirst quenched, it was time for some sustenance.

Making our way into the conservatory, four menus were quickly rustled up. With a seasonal, daily changing menu featuring the best of British produce, The Rickety Press has its finger very much on the gastro pulse. On our visit, there were 5 starters and 6 mains on offer - just enough choice, but no difficult decision-making. In a nod to summer, I opted for gazpacho (£5) followed by the vegetarian main option, a less seasonal-sounding squash, feta, spinach and pine nut pithivier (pastry) with cauliflower puree (£11).

Starters arrived promptly and were dispatched with speedily: G's ham hock and pea salad with tarragon dressing, topped with a perfectly-cooked poached egg (£5) was a hit, with the oozing egg and the light-tasting dressing receiving particular praise. B (who I must point out has rather exacting standards) opted for the confit duck salad with mango and pomegranate (£6), a beautifully-presented summery starter. Receiving an almost record-setting 8.5 out of 10 from B, the smokiness of the duck contrasted excellently with the sweetness of the fruit, and the spring onions and herbs added to the fresh taste combination. My gazpacho (served with fresh bread) was also fresh tasting and light, with a slightly spicy aftertaste, but I have to say that it paled in comparison with the gazpacho I sampled in Seville last month. Made by a friend's mum and served from a plastic bottle, its presentation was decidedly less elegant than the Rickety Press version, but its flavour was spot on. The pub kitchen isn't fortunate enough to benefit from the help of Pedro's mother, but their interpretation was tasty nonetheless, if a bit thicker than the classic Spanish soup.

Ham hock salad

Confit duck salad

Gazpacho

If the ham hock salad was well-received, G's main course of baked lemon sole fillets with new potatoes, brown shrimps and watercress (£13) was the culinary equivalent of Pippa Middleton: a surprise hit. As he pointed out, it's not exactly easy to make a stand-out dish out of fish, but The Rickety Press pulled it off - I should know, I couldn't resist having a nibble after G slipped into sole-induced rapture. Lightly breaded with a slightly crispy topping, the flaky fish was perfectly cooked and almost melted in the mouth, its buttery sauce adding a creamy touch without being at all heavy.

Lemon sole fillets - 10/10

Having passed on a starter, N tucked into the Rickety burger (£11), topped with cheddar and onion relish and served in a homemade seeded bun. It also came with sides of string chips and a dressed rocket and radish salad. N's not exactly an unfussy lady either, but she rated the burger an impressive 9: cooked medium as requested, the meat was excellent quality, well-complemented by the rich taste of the cheese and the homemade relish - just sweet enough but not overpowering. The string chips weren't remotely stringy; they were crisp, golden and a bit too popular with the rest of the table.

Rickety burger & string chips

B's chicken, leek and mushroom pie (£11) tasted 'properly homemade, like something your mum would make' (a generic mum rather than mine specifically, her forte is potatoes), with good quality chunks of chicken 'rather than old scraggly bits' (although she later found a small amount of gristle, she would like me to point out). The sprouting broccoli looked more green than purple, but was tasty nonetheless, and the mash also received high praise - no lumps here.

Chicken, leek and mushroom pie

My pithivier may not have looked like the most exciting dish of the bunch, but the dome of homemade puff pastry was filled with a beautiful combination of summery flavours. The classic pairing of creamy feta and spinach worked perfectly with the appetite-satisfying butternut squash.

Squash, feta & pine nut pithivier

In the name of research, N and I managed to find space for a chocolate fondant served with homemade vanilla ice cream (£5). Our admirable effort was rewarded: it was delicious, a puddle of dark melted chocolate oozing out of the spongy centre. I'm not ashamed to admit I almost fought N for the last bite.

With a laid-back, friendly atmosphere, young and helpful staff and a strong, well-priced menu, The Rickety Press deserves to be a success. The restaurant quality food was some of the best I've had in a while, but there's none of the pretension that sometimes accompanies the gastro tag. This is definitely still a pub. Let's hope it stays that way.

Rating: 9

The Rickety Press is at 67 Cranham Street, Jericho, OX2 6DS. Tel: 01865 424581.

Door 74

Where to go for a relaxed catch up over dinner and wine with a friend you haven't seen in ages? A friend with rather high standards in the food stakes, I must add. Racking my memory and my list of recommendations, I came up with the answer: Door 74.

At number 74 Cowley Road, this cosy, quirkily-decorated little restaurant may look unassuming, but its seasonal menu of mostly British dishes packs a punch. With 6 starters, 7 mains and 5 desserts chalked up on a blackboard, choice isn't vast but it's definitely sufficient, and with dishes including free-range chicken breast served with caponata and four-cheese filo tart on the menu, you're bound to find something to tempt you.

Even though over half the tables were occupied (not bad for a Wednesday evening), the atmosphere was laid-back and relaxed. Service was friendly and attentive, the lone waitress offering us tap water just as my lips were forming the request and providing us with a big chilled bottle to go with our merlot (£14.50).

Sweet spiced carrot fritters

Starters of sweet carrot fritters with a chilli dipping sauce and a roast tomato and fennel soup with toast and basil pistou (£4.95 each) arrived promptly and were beatifully presented; the three fritters were robust and full-flavoured, sitting on a bed of well-dressed mixed leaves. The chilli dipping sauce complemented them well, whetting my appetite for my main course. K's soup didn't hit such a high note: rustic and chunky, its subtle fennel flavour was tasty but let down by the unexpected use of tinned tomatoes rather than the roasted ones advertised.

Roast tomato and fennel soup

Her main course of a 7.4oz organic beef burger served with salad, chips and aioli (£8.95) was more highly rated: cooked medium rare as requested, it was apparently a touch dry but the quality of the meat and the seasoning made up for this; the chunky chips were just the right side of crisp and again, the presentation was spot on. The presence of dill in the aioli was an odd and unwelcome touch, though.

Organic burger

My salmon and haddock fishcakes with buttered spring greens and lemon and caper dressing (£10.95)  satisfied my remaning appetite: no skimpy portions here, these cakes were definitely worth the price tag. The haddock and salmon worked perfectly together and the chef had avoided the 'lumpy potato' trap that so many fishcakes can fall into. The greens and the light, fresh dressing gave the dish a welcome summer feel and prevented it from being too carb-heavy.

Salmon and haddock fishcakes

Happily full of food, wine and conversation, we couldn't resist one of the tempting-sounding desserts and opted to share a slice of dark chocolate and orange cheesecake (£4.50). Rich and sweet at the same time, the orange flavour was somewhat lacking, and although I had no problems polishing it off, I don't think it's the best of the Door 74 desserts - I still harbour fond memories of a chocolate semi-freddo I ate there two years ago.

Dark chocolate and orange cheesecake

At just over £50 for 2 courses each, a dessert and a bottle of wine, Door 74 gets the price-quality ratio just right. I have to admit it wasn't the best meal I've ever had there, but then I had high expectations: their food is consistently good, the service unintrusive but friendly, and the menu always offering classic yet creative combinations with something to suit everyone. For a quality meal in a relaxed atmosphere, you can't go wrong.

Verdict: 7.5

Door 74 is at 74 Cowley Road. Reservations recommended at weekends. Tel: 01865 203374. Open Tue-Sun (brunch only on Sun).