Lady Jane arrived in the Cotswolds this evening for a weekend of fun and exploring with the Queen of the Cotswolds, as she has taken to referring to me. As a belated birthday celebration (we joked that it is harder to turn 40 the second time around), we made our way to the village of Kingham for dinner at The Plough.
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The Kingham Plough...looks easy enough to find
in the daylight. |
Satnav at the ready, we meandered our way down narrow, winding, dark country roads (not a streetlight in sight). We knew we were approaching Kingham when the headlights on Lady Jane's SUV (what else would you drive to the Cotswolds) caught the signboard for Kingham Hill School. The large triangular green that marks the centre of the village came into view, albeit dimly. Still not a street light in site. We tried to make out where exactly The Plough was. Having stayed in the village when we first arrived in the Cotswolds back in September, I knew the pub is off the green, but nothing was lit up enough for me to quite make it out.
We finally spotted the small sign. Other than on the sign, no other lights were even shining on the outside of the pub!
But inside, it was warm and cosy. A fire was burning and a giant pig sculpture held pride of place in front of it. The bar area was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. We were led to our table in the back room where we found a card on the table with "Smith" written on it. The hotel staff had noted that the online reservation indicated "Birthday" in the drop-down event listing, and provided Lady Jane with a card...very thoughtful, and off to a good start.
The Kingham Plough is what is referred to as a gastropub. The first one was The Eagle in Clerkenwell, London in the early 1990s, but it was in the late 1990s that the concept really took off. Up until then, pub food had a bad reputation. Normally fare consisted of pie and chips, fish and chips and the odd ploughman's lunch. The only other option was at the other end of the scale: an expensive restaurant. There wasn't much in the middle.
The intention of the gastropub was to provide homemade local food, prepared with a bit of flare. It wasn't as expensive as the fancy restaurant, and was in a pub, so you didn't have to dress up too much. The concept helped save many a public house. Today, there aren't too many pubs that can stay in business long if they just serve alcohol or if the food is horrid. Similarly, expensive fancy restaurants have had to compete with food provided by some truly talented pub chefs.
I wish I had written down what we ate...it was devine. Someone in the kitchen is a master at bringing flavours together that compliment and never overwhelm. I know my first course was an artichoke dish that was magnificent, while I believe Lady Jane had breast of pheasant. For my main, I had a partridge and pork wellington, while Jane had the lamb...including lamb's tongue, which she offered for me to try...and I declined. Usually, I'm good to try anything, but somehow I couldn't get the image to the left out of my mind!
Lady Jane -- showing all the signs of the ingrained hunter-gatherer stock of her upper class forefathers -- devoured it.
A dinner well enjoyed, we stepped out of the pub into the pitch black darkness. Using the light on my mobile phone, we found our way back to the vehicle and were soon back on the road to Moreton in Marsh...a bottle of Cava waiting for a night cap... because, you don't want to drink and drive, particularly when the roads are like something out of a Daphne Du Maurier novel.
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