Every so often you find a surprise.
A restaurant, a bar, a cafe – somewhere that destroys your expectations.
Allow me to take you to Handforth. Semi-rural, rather posh, with a terribly pretty train station, there are plenty of big houses, large gardens and little lanes to wander around.
It’s also home to a Best Western Hotel, Pinewood on Wilmslow. It’s a little deceptive. Reclaimed brick and a little 1970s concrete and glass surround a very nice, rather plush hotel. But we weren’t here to visit the hotel. We were here to visit Restaurant One Eighty on behalf of Tasting Britain, and at first, we didn’t expect much.
Now, before you think me dismissive, I’ve eaten very well at hotel restaurants, but the fare tends to be simple and straightforward. Fish and chips, sausages and mash – they sometimes have a captive audience and have to cater to the masses. For those who’ve surpassed my expectations, such as the Etrop Grange when Ernst Van Zyl headed up the restaurant, even the Portland Thistle, they tend to be the exception, not the rule.
One Eighty too has a good menu for the hotel guest, better than most, but it’s the seasonal menu that blew my socks off.
Arriving on a warm midday evening, the restaurant was relatively quiet, a small number of guests arriving later to fill the space, but we were more than happy to have the space to ourselves.
With so much choice, decisions are hard to make. But we split the menus – Mr GFB took the standard menu and I took the seasonal. I’d like to suggest there was lots of arguing over the choices, but as you’ll see, none was needed. Add in a bottle of wine from a lovely little wine selection, and we dove straight in.
From the standard menu, Mr GFB chose pie. A dainty, but hearty meat pie from a local butcher, served with a little bottle of HP Sauce, salad, pickled onions and home made piccalilli. The pastry was soft and warm, the beef tender and rich, the piccalilli crunchy and tart with a tickle of heat.
My own starter was a little gem.
Swordfish tartare. Meaty fish finely diced, borage, nuggets of salty capers. Incredible. The meaty fish was complimented by the combination of sweet, tart, salty and the fruity olive oil, with soft sweet fennel and added creaminess from the quail’s egg seated on top.
It was safe to say I was impressed.
Onto mains and Mr GFB continued his hearty journey with the open vegetarian lasagne with wild mushrooms and spinach.
Fresh pasta, layered with the vegetables, in a small pool of a creamy mushroom sauce, topped with a breadcrumb coated, deep fried hen’s egg. This was vegetarian food as far removed from the normal overcooked ratatouille filled vegetarian lasagne as possible.
In fact the two gentleman dining next to us said as much.
And with a little bucket of pan fried courgette, Mr GFB was a very happy chap.
For my main, I went piggy.
The pork fillet, so easy to cook badly, really was done perfectly – my knife slid through the flesh. The butternut squash puree underneath added a creamy earthy sweetness, little beans dotted the platter to add an extra nutty texture and the grilled apricots added a sweet and sour element. All this paired with the crisp slightly bitter tenderstem broccoli was divine. But the star, of course, was the pig’s cheek.
It’s hard not to love something so meaty, savoury, surrounded by crisp deep fried crumb. Why fight it?
How could this porky combination be beaten? Onto dessert.
For Mr GFB another dish of proper food. A proper pudding. Eggy bread, with berry jam and Cheshire salted caramel ice cream. This plump pud was the perfect end to his hotel menu sampling and would have made anyone happy. I can think of one or two people I know who work away from home, who would dream of this sort of hotel menu.
For myself, I had made a choice that spoke of childhood, vanilla, raspberry and cheap sponge. What I got (the manager’s own favourite) was whole other world.
Arctic roll.
This was sexy.
Light chocolate sponge covered creamy black cherry ice cream. The plate was piled with bitter chocolate curls, freeze dried black cherries, baby beetroot leaves to add earthiness, sharp cherry sherbet and big fat fresh black cherries to add softer fruit flavours.
Oh daddy.
I still dream about that dessert.
One Eighty is a little diamond, though not in ‘rough’ (Handforth is far too posh for that), it’s in a place you wouldn’t expect, and has rocketed up the list of places I’ll be revisiting.
Soon.
With huge thanks to One Eighty and the staff, and to Tasting Britain for allowing me to discover such a fabulous spot.
The food and drink enjoyed at One Eighty was paid for by the restaurant and the initial review was done for Tasting Britain. TB have, gracefully allowed me to re-write a review for my site.
As ever, a meal supplied, doesn’t ensure a positive review. In this case, however, I love this spot and will be back as soon as possible.