August Gourmet Night at The Mark Addy, in which Greed Finally Pays Off

Anyone who glances at this nonsense on a regular basis will know that one of the highlights of my month is the Gourmet Night at The Mark Addy on the final Wednesday: six surprise courses of Robert Owen Brown's seasonal fancies for £30. It's always amazing, and I always enjoy myself. And yet, last night I wasn't really sure I wanted to go: I was tired, and pretty bloated after an excessively enjoyable Bank Holiday weekend and then a Tuesday night spent swanning round SoLIta dressed in head-to-toe leopard print and snarfing Italian-American classics in honour of Sporanos Night. In short, I felt that even I had finally reached my greed threshold.

Of course, it goes without saying that I went anyway - and was rewarded with what I think is Rob's finest menu yet. To wit:

1. Wild Dunham Rabbit with Red Rose Forest Mushrooms. Chef Owen Brown doesn't do requests at Gourmet Night (it's pretty much a case of you'll eat your tripe and like it), so I was doing nothing more than trying my luck when I sent a jaunty tweet to him last week saying I fancied rabbit this month. And look - not only is there a dainty dish of Flopsy cavorting happily in a mushroom and cream sauce, there are bunny ears made out of breadsticks, and a toadstool made out of radish! I'm SO going to ask for MORE stuff from now on if this kind of thing happens as a result.

2. Deep Fried Lambs Heart & Veal Tongue Sandwich with Caramelised Trotter Gear. On every Addy menu there is a dish that strikes fear into the heart of Twitter, and to be quite honest I was a little trepidatious of this myself - it just had too many scary animal parts in its name. Quite obviously though, it was the best dish of the night - offal in a rich gravy, breaded and deep fried, and slapped between two slices of fried bread; it was, as Rob himself described it, "a bit Greggs", but in a very good way. I had, incidentally, entirely missed the rudeness of the name until the ever-reliable Deanna Thomas tweeted me to say that she's always enjoyed a tongue sandwich - no wonder she's a top chef and food blogger, as she knows everything, and never fails to teach me something new.

3. Poached Turbot with Anglesey Seaweed. Something relatively healthy to counteract the first couple of courses - a perfect piece of fish with gorgeous little lemony potato scales, some sexy veg and some nicely salty seaweed strands.

4. Classic Roast Lancashire Grouse with all the Tracklements (to share). A classic indeed - roast, gamey bird served with roast onion, apple sauce, roast potatoes, game chips and gravy - that I can fault in only two small ways. Firstly, it turns out I am poor at carving grouse, and could have done with a passing butcher (I'm looking at you, James Bobby's Bangers) to lend a hand, and secondly, I never care to see the phrase "to share" appended to anything I'm about to eat. Otherwise, most excellent.

5. Millionaire Shortbread, Popcorn IceCream, Lemon & Lime Curd, Chocolate Fruit & and Nut, Irwell Blackcurrant Mousse. The desserts at Gourmet Night have got a little out of hand in recent months, and part of me hankers after the days when Rob would serve up a simple gooseberry fool or similar - people who can't be trusted to show restraint after four courses shouldn't be trusted with this kind of over-generously sized pudding family either. Still, hard to complain when it was all so nice - I didn't eat the mousse as blackcurrants have an unfortunate effect on me which would NOT have been welcomed at table bearing in mind the amount I'd already consumed, but everything else was delicious. As a point of future reference, never ask for extra caramel sauce as Rob will bring you what essentially amounts to a soup tureen filled with the stuff - you will gamely eat it, and you will feel ill afterwards *voice of experience*.

6. Appleby's Farmhouse Cheshire Cheese. No picture, because I didn't get this far: instead, I carried it home in a plastic container the size of China, just in case I became hungry during the night.

So, another triumph - and unfortunately it seems the lesson to be learned from such a feast is that gluttony pays, and that if you stay in, you might just miss out...

- The Mark Addy is on Stanley Street in Salford, M3 5EJ.

Mark Addy Gourmet Night July 2013: Banger Queen Rewarded after Long Day at Sausage School

Every so often, a day comes along that is frankly so brilliant that it makes you smile every time you see it written in your diary. Such a day was Wednesday just gone: during the day, I had the honour of being the inaugural student at the Bobby's Bangers Sausage School (more of which next week - suffice to say that I was obviously SPLENDID at sausage making, and that a wonky banger tastes just as good as a shapely one anyway), and then the evening saw dinner with Mr and Mrs Bobby's Bangers at The Mark Addy Gourmet Night. This surely needs no introduction by now (or maybe just a very short one: last Wednesday of every month, £30, six surprise courses, I always eat too much, the things I eat are often strange animal parts), so I'll go straight into this month's menu:

1. Garden Snails with Garlic Butter. Now, at last month's Gastro Club at Kaleido, I physically couldn't bring myself to eat the snails because they looked too much like slugs - the one (rather random) thing on this planet of which I am truly terrified. Robert Owen Brown had chosen to serve his in a hollowed out bread roll, so I simply shut my eyes and stabbed randomly in the vague direction of my plate - a little like a mollusc lucky dip, if you will. Through this method, I successfully consumed all four - they were (not unpleasantly) chewy, and tasted of garlic butter, although I presume this may not be their natural state.

2. Dublin Bay Prawns and Anglesey Lobster Soup. If you know anything about me at ALL, you'll know that I ate all of this and then ran my finger round the bowl when no-one was looking. This was the only course for which the ingredients were not sourced within ten miles, such is the commitment here to local produce - and we can hardly blame ROB for not wanting to serve up shopping trolley soup from the Irwell.

3. Biosphere Project Leaf Salad. This course divided opinion at table somewhat. Mrs Banger and I both enjoyed it - a very simple, plain green salad (made with some of the produce from the Salford roof garden cultivated as part of the recent Manchester International Festival) with mustard dressing which went down a treat after the richness of the soup. Mr Liz and Mr Banger, on the other hand, both felt it could have benefitted from the addition of a meat item - although to be fair, I think they feel this about most dishes.

4. Braised Kid Goat Heart with Madeira and Flash Fried Goat Liver with Courgettes. Twitter was a little horrified by the thought of this course, but (not for the first time) Twitter was WRONG. This was probably the best course of the night and the kind of dish that The Mark Addy excels at - I'm more than partial to a spot of liver anyway, particularly when served pink in a strong, meaty sauce thickened with small morsels of the chopped heart and some simply steamed courgette.

5. Celebration of Summer Berries. Now, thanks to some enthusiastic wine drinking with Mr Banger, I'm not 100% confident I really listened to all the details of this one - and as you can see from the picture, it was right fancy. To the best of my recollection, here we had a Victorian lemonade jelly (lush), a mini raspberry and rosemary margarita (even lusher) and a berry cheesecake (the one minor disappointment of the night - a bit soapy for me).

6. Regional Farmhouse Cheeses. I did say that I wasn't going to eat cheese again after the excesses of the International Cheese Awards, didn't I; oh well, I shall simply pretend that I didn't eat any of this *unconvincing face*

So there we have it - another month, another excellent dinner, even if Robert Owen Brown DID announce to the entire pub that I'd spent the day boning a pig and handling a sausage or two. You'll have to wait until next week to hear that insalubrious story though...

- The Mark Addy is on Stanley Street in Salford, M3 5EJ.

The Mark Addy Gourmet Evening, May 2013: "The Squizza's Demise"

There are many things I enjoy about the monthly Gourmet Night at The Mark Addy: the excellent food, of course, and the element of surprise in not knowing what your six seasonal, local courses will include, and obviously the chance to see all the charming folk at this venerable Salford institution. Truth be told, though, probably my favourite bit of my regular Addy visits is posting the menu on Twitter and Facebook, going off and stuffing my face, and then coming back to look at the trail of comments, which normally veer wildly between jealous approval and open-mouthed horror. And without fail, the course that always prompts the most concern is squirrel.

Why this should be, I'm not entirely sure. Some complain they are vermin; others - perhaps thinking fondly back to the waistcoat-wearing, mystery-solving squirrels of their childhood story books - think they are just too cute to eat. Me? I just think they are delicious - small but with a gamey taste that makes them far more interesting than many blander meats - and so does Robert Owen Brown, for he often puts them on his menu in various inventive guises. Last night it was a squirrel pasty - but you'll have to wait until course two to meet him. Here's the full rundown of what we had:

1. Crispy South Coast Sand Eels with Saffron Mayonnaise. Don't be frightened by the slightly scary-sounding name here - these little fishy friends had just been lightly dusted and then fried in the manner of whitebait, before being served up with a ludicrously thick and sexy mayonnaise for dipping. Portion size was - as you can see - very generous for course one of six; just imagine how greedy it would have been if there had been a spare one, leading someone to eat TWO portions! I know - pretty hard to even picture such gluttony.

*moves swiftly on*

2. Grey Squirrel Pasty. Aha - here is that controversial course, and I think it might just have been my favourite of the night. Tender morsels of tasty, waistcoat-wearing vermin, slow-cooked and then served up in a thick gravy within a sturdy pastry crust - I would have eaten ten if I could.

3. Roasted Arctic Char with Lemon and Chive. Now, the fish course is often the highlight of Gourmet Night for me, but not this time. Yes, this cold-water fish, found in little pockets around the country including Lake Windermere, was perfectly cooked, but I found the flavour a touch on the muddy side and the accompanying sauce a little oily. I still ate it all, mind.

4. Lamb Cutlet with Roasted Shallot. Can't go wrong with this, surely - a fat pink chop served with an equally fat roast shallot in a gravy SO good I was forced to run my finger round the dish just to get every last bit.

5. Strawberry Tart. They do a good pudding at The Addy and this was no exception - a crisp pastry shell filled with cream and strawberries and topped with an exuberant flourish of spun sugar.

6. Farmhouse Cheese. Now, I don't have a picture of this, as I was busy telling Clare Howarth of designsixty4 all about the forthcoming Gastro Club menu at The Addy, but you will all have seen cheese before, so no matter. Suffice to say there was no soft or stinky cheese on this month's platter, and as a result I simply ate thick slabs of excellent butter on my crackers instead, clearly in the belief that I had perhaps not eaten quite enough for one night.

By the way, thanks for the title of this post must go to lovely (vegetarian) Jules from the estimable Good Gobble blog, who has been enquiring worriedly about the squirrel's welfare on Twitter all morning. "Was there a little squirrel inside the pasty?" she enquired tremulously - well yes, Jules, there was, and I ate him, waistcoat and all. I'm afraid rumours of his demise have, in this case, not been greatly exaggerated.

- The Mark Addy is on Stanley Street in Salford, Manchester, M3 5EJ.

Mark Addy Gourmet Night, Ginger's Comfort Emporium, Pie & Ale Manchester, and The Queen Brie; Say it Quickly and it MIGHT not Sound so Greedy

Now, perhaps contrary to appearances, I do at least try to lead something of a balanced life: for every occasion of unmitigated greed, there are usually at least two or three quiet, unheralded days where I drink water and eat lentils as penance for my previous indulgences. Sometimes, however, circumstances conspire against me, forcing me from the path of healthy living with a string of events that leave me nothing more than an innocent victim; in other words, nothing I am about to tell you is my fault. At all. Just in case some of it appears my fault, I am presenting last week's greed in a swift diary format, in order to rush it through and prevent any serious questions being asked; feel free to gloss over any parts where I do not come out well.

Wednesday, 24th April: Gourmet Night at The Mark Addy

So, you could argue that I deliberately booked this in, but then it's hardly my fault that one of Manchester's finest chefs chooses to serve up six mystery courses based on local, seasonal produce on the last Wednesday of every month. Those of a squeamish disposition will note, perhaps with some relief, the relative normality of this month's menu (which perhaps indicates that I am to be served up a banquet consisting entirely of squirrel testicles and pig head next time, but I'll worry about that when I get to it); here's what we had.

1. Summer Truffle Shooter. Rich, thick soup laced generously with the unmistakable earthy tang of truffle; my only complaint here is that I can't get the last bit of soup out, and get a crick in my neck trying to - all the while pretending to be casually examining something high above my head.
2. St George's Mushrooms with Wild Garlic and Madeira Cream. These turn out to be feisty, peppery little fellows, housed inside a jaunty bread cage which proves useful for mopping up the Madeira sauce. I enjoy this very much at the time, but hold Robert Owen Brown entirely responsible for the fact that everything I consume for the next three days has an air of garlic about it.
3. Dublin Bay Prawns with Hand Dived Scallops. Best course of the night - once I'd tamed this fishy Cerberus and ravaged the scallop it was so sensibly guarding.
4. Braised Mutton with Capers. "Isn't mutton sad, and grey, and tough?" asked a misguided friend. No - it looks like this, and is happy, and flavoursome, and tender.
5. Honey and Saffron Poached Pear. This is just lovely - I enjoy any kind of poached pear, and the Salford honey lends just the right amount of caramelly sweetness. And, pears are healthy - this is official fact.

6. Regional Cheeses. Just look at this size of this, for two people - I admit defeat, and have it wrapped up to take home.


Thursday, 25th April: Ginger's Comfort Emporium Book Launch

So, the following day is obviously meant to be a lentil day. I cannot be held responsible if the lovely Claire Kelsey - maker of the world's finest ice cream in the form of Ginger's Comfort Emporium's Chorlton Crack - decides to launch her new book, Melt, at the Whim Wham Cafe. The whole of Manchester seems to have turned out for this one, and deservedly so - the book is full of amazing things (including the salted caramel and peanut butter ice cream, aka Chorlton Crack), and Claire herself is a most gracious host. She has even, for example, made us a spare tyre (presumably for her famous van) entirely out of ice cream.

Saturday, 27th April: Pie & Ale, plus The Queen Brie Cheese

The weekend's healthy eating plan fares no better. Once Mr Liz got wind of a new venue called Pie & Ale in the Northern Quarter, selling - yep - pies and ale, there was no keeping him away from it. It does indeed turn out to be every boy's dream - three pies for sale every day at £5.95 each, with sides of mashed potato, gravy and mushy peas available at 85p extra, and a selection of real ales at the bar with which to wash the whole lot down. I am a little disappointed that at 12.45 on a Saturday lunchtime they are just rubbing the chicken pie option off the board, leaving us with a choice only of chilli beef or the vegetarian one (which I think involved tomatoes, and beans, and other nutritious items). I go for the unhealthy one and it is lovely - really buttery pastry and a nice, spicy, generous filling; the mashed potato side is unnecessary but very good. Mr Liz says it fails the Wigan pie test (apparently you have to be able to pick it up and eat it in your hands for it to properly qualify as a real pie) but is already asking when we can go back.

Home then, where I will rustle up some delightful lentil delicacy. Um, no. Ever lucky, I have won a cheese hamper from the excellent Arndale cheese stall The Queen Brie - and she has done me proud. I absolutely, 100% promise that my diet starts from tomorrow...well, once I've eaten all this cheese up, anyway.


- The Mark Addy is on Stanley Street in Salford.
- You can find out more about Ginger's Comfort Emporium here.
- Pie & Ale can be found at The Hive on Lever Street in the Northern Quarter.
- The Queen Brie can be found in Manchester Arndale Market.

The Mark Addy Gourmet Night: A Tale of Two Ducks

On the whole, Manchester is a pretty sleek, sexy, sophisticated sort of city. It has all the pre-requisites to qualify as a grande dame of the very highest order: a smoky, turbulent past; art and culture beyond reproach; a fleet of interesting places to eat and drink; clever, witty inhabitants with an eye for a short hem and an excellent shoe - everything that a thriving, cosmopolitan sort of place should have. And yet there's no getting away from the fact that many of Manchester's excellently shod urban foxes will spend a large portion of tomorrow - Good Friday - freezing by the side of the River Irwell cheering on a number of small plastic ducks as they drift haplessly towards the finish line; and yes - I will be one of them, for Friday 29th March sees the return of the annual Manchester Duck Race. You can read more about it here, and it's not too late to buy yourself a duck or two; just be aware though, that my duck has had a sniff of the fact that the top prize is Kurt Geiger vouchers and has therefore promised me that it will be first across the line.

Anyway, one way of keeping warm whilst watching our tiny plastic friends do battle is to shelter inside the ever-welcoming Mark Addy, whose window seats offer an excellent view of the whole shebang. Talking of the Addy - and of ducks - we were there last night for March's Gourmet Night, the monthly six-course extravaganza that sees chef Robert Owen Brown unleash a succession of unusual animal parts upon excited diners for the bargain price of £30. Take a look at this lot and tell me it isn't a wonder to behold (well, as much as one can behold ANYTHING in the Addy's rather intimate lighting):

1. Duck Egg with Broad Beans, Sea Salt, Parmesan Crisp and Bearnaise Sauce. We used to get duck eggs very occasionally as a treat when I was a kid, and I find they have lost little of their allure - far larger and richer than the poultry (sorry) offering a hen can produce, this course was a joy from start to finish.

2. Wild Garlic, Manchester Mascarpone and Beetroot Salad. Soft, white cheese and fat, earthy beetroot is a winning combination at any time; when that cheese is a richly dense, homemade affair and you add handfuls of rampant greenery that would have any vampire running for the hills however peckish they might be, it becomes positively sublime.

3. Crab and Shellfish Pie. Joint best course of the night for me: tiny crabs and other sea-based brethren swimming merrily in a rich broth - thoughtfully topped with puff pastry (seen here both top on and top off, a little like a convertible) to stop them escaping anywhere other than into my mouth. I'm a little ashamed to say that there was a spare one of these, and it was me who ate it *waits for cries of surprise*

*still waiting*

4. Savoury Duck. Don't worry, little plastic friends - this was not a real duck at all, but a gloriously big fat meaty faggot topped with a fetching toupee of sweet onions. I have two observations here: firstly, I like how the darkness of this photo makes the faggot look a little threatening as it swaggers meatily into shot; and secondly, the beautiful Lucy Hope, chanteuse extraordinaire, shimmied in from a singing job at this point, resplendent in sequinned evening gown and full make up, and proceeded to trough three of these fine fellows in all her exotic finery *nods approvingly*.

5. Roast Rabbit Loin. Simple but good, this one - tender bunny served alongside the spoils of his own vegetable thieving.

6. Eccles Cake with Lancashire Cheese. If you've never had cheese with some kind of baked good, I suggest you try it immediately - this dainty little Eccles cake soon found itself astride a great wedge of cheese and looking a whole lot less prettily dignified. It did not mind, however, for it knew that its sweet, jammy fruitiness could only be improved by such a holy union.

So, one of the best yet? I would say so - and I'm very much looking forward to being back at The Addy tomorrow to cheer my very own little duck, savoury or otherwise, over the finishline.

Special Match of the Day Highlights Package...only with Damson, The Mark Addy and Bobby's Bangers in Place of Lineker and, erm, the Other Ones

Now, I must make it totally clear from the start that everything you're about to read about in this blog post is ABOLUTELY deserving of its own, individual write-up. The reason they are all sharing is as a kind of service to you, the reader, who has a busy life to negotiate and will surely appreciate the time efficiency of one, glorious foodie package; think of it as a kind of Greatest Hits tape, or an episode of Match of the Day. It is NOT - and again, I must make this totally clear - because I only have the time to write one blog post this weeked; no, definitely not that. At all. You're welcome.

Anyway, last Wednesday was Gourmet Night at The Mark Addy, most usually notable for the all-day discussion it prompts among my colleagues: what part of which animal will Robert Owen Brown be fricasseeing tonight for Liz's delectation? This time, though, Mr Liz and I had a hot date with Royton sausage royalty in the form of Mr and Mrs Bobby's Bangers (otherwise known as James and Heather), and the highbrow conversation du jour naturally revolved around exactly what kind of sausage I was likely to be slipped under the table (Italian and Mushroom & Garlic, if you're interested). Truth be told, we had feared for our lives a little - ROB had promised us an adventurous menu, and it did indeed seem a serious possibility at one point that a whole head of Shergar might appear and we would be forced to chow down on a raw banger or two instead. Of course, the menu was amazing - six splendid courses for thirty of your English pounds, with the standout dish being the Kentucky Fried Squirrel that ROB had put on especially for me after my epic sulk at missing out on the KF Rabbit last month.

1. Hand Dived Scallops with Sea Urchin:

2. "KFC" Style Cheshire Grey Squirrel with Dandelion and Burdock Dipping Sauce:

3. Glazed Red Mullet "Gazpacho" Style:

4. Truffle Roast Squab Pigeon:

5. Warm Ramshackle Curd Cheese (baked inside aniseedy bread to resemble a sea urchin, albeit the biggest sea urchin the world has ever seen):

6. Vanilla Bean Custard Shortbread:

After this feast, I didn't eat out for two whole days; luckily my friend celebrated her birthday last night by having dinner at Damson in Heaton Moor, thereby preventing a dangerous hat trick of nights in. I don't have any pictures here I'm afraid as the evening was far too classy to be let down by a woman snapping away on her frankly very unprofessional iPhone camera; instead, you will have to use your imaginations to decide exactly how nice a starter of grilled scallops, slow cooked middle white pork belly, Bury black pudding croquettes, spiced apple puree and golden raisins might look. I've yet to have a less-than-perfect meal at Damson - the food is really quite special, and the well-chosen flavour combinations mean that I quite literally want to try EVERYTHING off the menu. I eventually settled on the slow cooked lamb with herb crust, served with creamed flageolet beans, roasted garlic and dauphinoise potato, and it was a joy.

I am going to move away from Damson now and hopefully leave you with the impression that my meal ended with that lovely lamb dish, for if it transpired that I actually managed a further two courses then the visit I have just paid to Royton Real Food is going to look more than a little gluttonous, and inaccurately convey the mistaken image that I am a big fat lardy greed face. Royton is my very favourite of all the food markets - it takes place on the first Sunday of every month, and as none of the stalls sell the same items you can do your food shop confident in the knowledge that you won't pay eight quid for a thimbleful of humous at the first stall you come across and then find something much better a few rows down. For my lunch I have just eaten this splendid pulled pork roll with home-made coleslaw and bourbon source from Castro (modelled here by Mr Liz, before being swiftly ripped from his eager hand); indeed, I still have a considerable amount of it on the sleeve of the pale grey Angora cardigan I so prudently selected for such an activity.

We also bought eggs, bread, cakes, and a selection of meaty goodness from the wonderful Coddy's Farm - they alone are worth the drive up to Royton. And this is where this post comes full circle, and I leave you with the image of a man trying to slip me a sausage - only this time, he slipped me a burger as well, but that's a whole other story...

Halloween Gourmet Evening at The Mark Addy: Local Girl Finally Gets Some Brains

Now, I'm quite happy to admit that in a number of ways, I am not in the least bit adventurous. I like to be in bed early on a school night, for example, and I am highly suspicious of change; I am yet to be convinced that black and navy can be worn together, or that an open-toed sandal can be accessorised with tights. And yet I've always fancied myself as quite an adventurous eater, altogether brave in my food choices despite being - naturally - most discerning about what I pop into my gannet-like mouth.

In fact, I've always said that there's only one thing I wouldn't really want to try, and that's brains. Born in the 70s into an enthusiastically meaty family, I've eaten most things - when you've watched your father press his own tongue (so to speak) every Christmas, there's not much left in this world that can scare you. Except brains. And I think we all knew it was only a matter of time until Robert Owen Brown decided to serve them up as part of the monthly six course Gourmet Evening at The Mark Addy; on Wednesday, that time was finally nigh. Here's what we had, including - a new entry at number three - the course that almost dereailed my adventurously greedy spirit...

1. Roast Pear William with Shropshire Blue Cheese. When he introduces this, ROB terms it a salad, despite it only having one or two miniscule hints of greenery in evidence upon its arrival. Mr Liz deems this his idea of a salad, and whilst I would have liked a little more vegetation, we both enjoy the contrast of the soft, fragrant fruit against the salty strutting of the cheese and the sweetness of the honey and saffron dressing. I have to pretend that I am not running my finger round the bowl to get at the last of this dressing when someone comes to clear the table, lest I look greedy, and am brought extra brains later.

2. Pumpkin Soup Shooter. Thoroughly appropriate for Halloween, this smooth, rich soup, topped with a frisky foam, is mellow and warming, combining the soft spice of the pumpkin with the roundness of what is clearly a considerable quantity of cream. All across the pub, diners knock back their shooter and exchange anxious glances at the thought of what is to come, perhaps wishing the soup had a hefty glug of brandy in it as well.

3. Crispy Veal Calf Brain with Diablo Sauce. This course arrives whilst I am indulging in some heady sausage talk with James of Bobby's Bangers; I return to my table to find Mr Liz looking warily at the dish that has appeared there, with a sort of "they're he-eeere" expression on his face as he peers - with some trepidation - into the shadowy depths of the bowl. And do you know what? They're OK - two flat, white discs of meat (one each), coated in batter, deep fried, and served with a spicy dipping sauce. Would I have liked them if they hadn't essentially tasted of batter and spicy dipping sauce? Maybe not, but I can now say I've tried them, and if I get pestered by trick or treaters in future years I can always offer this up to them as a tasty alternative to all that bland Haribo, and then watch them run away, screaming, down the street.

4. Roast Local Pheasant. A sensibly straightforward course after all that excitement - moist, gamey bird served with tiny roast onions, spinach and fondant potato. I enjoy this very much, particularly as, after the last course, I too now consider myself to be something of a game old bird.

5. Chestnut and Fig Tart. I love Autumn/Winter food, and this encapsulates everything that is right and good about the season - a crisp pastry shell filled with a rich, nutty mixture that is not too sweet, just flavoured with the natural sugars of the figs and the warmth of the chestnuts. It is perfect, and I think those who have eaten the brains should have extra portions at the expense of those who have not.

6. Local Cheese. As ever, two cheeses, grapes, celery and crackers; as ever, excellent. The only variable with this one is the location of their consumption; tonight, I eat them on the premises rather than in the car on the way home.

As I weigh all of this up the next day, there are two things that come to mind. First of all, only ROB would have the chutzpah to serve up brains to the 30 Swedish tourists who have booked in for Gourmet Evening for a taste of real English cuisine (to be fair, many of them do give them a good go, although others look rather as if they would like to return home with immediate effect). And secondly? The brains were fine, but given a choice, I'll take balls over brains ANY day.