The Five Alls, Filkins
5:07pm Wednesday 20th August 2008
I had a good impression of the Five Alls in Filkins even before I set foot through its door. Making a booking by telephone the previous day, I had such a pleasant chat with Mike the manager (as I later found him to be) that it seemed certain this was the friendliest of pubs. Usually if you are told someone is looking forward to seeing you, you think: "Oh yeh, he's just going through the motions. 'Have a good day' and all that." Here it felt genuine.
It turned out that this was Mike's first week in Filkins, having moved from a pub belonging to the same owners in his native Marlow. Making that good impression was obviously an important part of his settling in. Joining him in welcoming customers on the night of our visit was Pam Hardyment, the mum of one of the bosses, Nick, who was filling in while he took a holiday in California. She had with her a delightful medium-sized black dog called Jerry. His proprietorial air - eye firmly on the kitchen door, whence no doubt came many good things - was a source of some amusement during our dinner.
Rosemarie went over for a good chat with the mutt at the end of the evening, unaware that he was in the company of the man who had made the biggest contribution to the success of our evening. It was only later, noting his picture on the back of a magazine she'd picked up there, that she realised he was the chef, Rob Wallace, Fresh local produce is a mainstay of the menu at this most attractive of country inns, which I have patronised on and off over more than three decades. Its name, incidentally, is explained in a picture hanging in one of the cosy bars. Queen Victoria is shown at its centre ("I govern all") surrounded by a lawyer ("I plead for all"), a parson ("I pray for all"), a soldier ("I fight for all") and a farmer ("I pay for all").
When I last reviewed the place, 14 years ago, seven years into the tenancy of Julian and Julia Heber-Smith, I expressed amazement at how busy it was. The bar was full and there were 80 in the restaurant. I remarked that it was a credit to the Heber-Smiths that the place has "prospered even through the recession".
With a recession again around the corner (or already with us), the new owners will be hoping that they, too, can buck the national trend. Certainly, it was good to see all but one of the candlelit tables full in the two-room restaurant on the Friday night we visited.
The bill details set out on the right might give the impression, from the starters at least, that ours was a three-strong party. In fact, it was just Rosemarie and me, both with very definite ideas about how to begin the meal but with a fancy for the vichyssoise too.
Our solution was to ask for a soup course, which we would share. The request for "two spoons, please" was an echo of that often heard these days at the pudding stage of a meal (quite often from us). It turned out to be a bright idea, for this was a smashing vichyssoise. The smooth blend of potatoes and leeks was, for once, not swamped by an overdose of cream, making for a chilled dish that was refreshing rather than cloying.
For me, it provided a cool introduction to the fiery delights of what was to follow - a plate of devilled whitebait enlivened by a hefty powdering of Cayenne pepper. Rosemarie, meanwhile, continued to follow a gentler course with pork rillettes. The soft-textured meat came in lumps rather than being shredded, a style favoured in certain regions of France. It was full of flavour, though the quantity of lard that had to be removed to gain access to it was a little off-putting.
She continued with a splendid portion of "Posh fish pie" whose poshness, presumably, lay primarily in the very generous quantity of smoked haddock it contained. This was undyed and presented with hard-boiled egg (only two slices of which were located in the rich, dill-laden sauce), mashed potatoes, peas and a crumbly piece of puff pastry.
In fishy mood, too, I enjoyed a superb, melt-in-the-mouth grilled swordfish steak, served with a marinated cucumber salsa and a salad of baby leaves styled, in Provençal fashion, "mesclun" (meaning mixture). I was impressed by the elegant simplicity of the side order of courgettes, merely sliced and fried, as I do at home - a true taste of summer.
Other main courses included a salad of John Dory with leaves, beetroot and orange; slow-roasted pork belly (that took some resisting!); sweet basil risotto; and a range of steaks.
Puds included such unusual offerings as green-tea pannacotta and a shot glass of apricot grappa, with raspberry, yoghurt and pistachio foam. Rosemarie stuck, however, to the classic delights of chocolate fondant, one of Raymond Blanc's most notable contributions to British gastronomy. This was a superb example, with its hot chocolate interior gushing forth from the chocolate sponge casing on the first assault of the spoon. The ice cream was butterscotch., we thought, rather than the advertised vanilla pod, but was none the worse for that.
Tomorrow from 1pm, the Five Alls hosts a live music day. Call 01367 860306 for details