Way back when, in fact the first year of this blog, I met a fabulous chef. He spoiled me on my birthday (jeez I looked both young and skinny then), convinced Mr GFB of the deliciousness of sprouts (well kind of), and since setting up his own little Cheshire based empire, he’s also collaborated with Red Willow in a beer pairing extravaganza.
So you’ll perhaps forgive me when an invitation to visit the first in his restaurants resulted in a resounding ‘yes please!’.
The Lord Clyde is the first of three venues that Ernst Van Zyl, and his lovely partner in crime Sarah Richmond have set up together. Situated in Bollington (a short drive or taxi ride from Macclesfield train station) it’s a beautifully relaxed country pub, decorated in soft muted colours, with lots of wood, happy dogs, rolling fields, and muddy boots by the bar.
It’s the perfect combination of comfort, country and incredible food.
The menu offers more than one option. The a la carte affords you the usual three courses, there’s a delicious looking Sunday lunch, and for those in need of something light, a range of open sandwiches for lunch time. For us, however, it was a no brainer. We had an inkling of what to expect (you don’t have three AA Rosettes for nothing), and so we selected the tasting menu and matched wines.
Of course, this being Ernie, things started off with class.
I’m not sure I’d call these snacks – my own kind of snack often involves a packet of Wotsits, or cheese and biscuits if I’m feeling glamorous.
These involved far more effort than reaching into the cupboard for a packet. Carefully crafted beetroot meringues with Blacksticks Blue, spelt cracker with grape and chicken liver and crispy cod skin topped with cod cheek and dill oil. From the earthy, lightly sweet and salty, through to the intense, creamy and herbal.
Taste buds fully awakened and alert, we were then in for an Ernie classic. Sourdough – now using kitchen milled flour, smoking butter and meatily sexy beef dripping. The bread was fresh crisp with a rough texture, the dripping melted softly into the warmth and I had some quiet moments with my mouth full.
Our first ‘real’ course was soon to arrive, fish – cured cod cheek, sweet shallots, crispy pancetta with wild garlic and a smoked bacon dashi, accompanied by a glass Prosecco di Valdobbiadene Ca Vittori to match. This was perhaps the only wine myself and Mr GFB disagreed on. I loved it, he found the course overpowered it.
Intensely flavoured, the dashi was suprisingly light, the dish dotted with nuggets of crispy cured pork and sweet crisp slivers of shallot. 
If it hadn’t been impolite I’d have poured the remaining dashing from the bowl into my mouth. But, you know, polite company, date night and all.
Onto one of my favourite dishes of the night. Sweet crab, crisp granny smith, roasted Granny Smith apple, slivers of radish and crisp chicken skin, accompanied by a delightfully lemony Picpoul de Pinet, Languedoc
The crab was wrapped in carefully shaved apple, and the crisp acidity was the perfect foil for the sweet, soft crab. The fresh juice was light and sweet, the radish added a more savoury crunch. It was all I could do to prevent myself from wandering into the kitchen and asking for another plate, shouting ‘again, again!’ like a toddler on a swing. It made my palate dance.
Now for one that I worried Mr GFB might not have appreciated. Textures of celeriac with fennel jam, fennel shavings, vanilla and toasted hazelnuts, paired with Catalina Sounds, Sauvignon Blanc (find this wine, buy it. Buy all of it. It’s beautiful).
Mr GFB is not the biggest celeriac fan – generally unless I cover it with salad cream or disguise it somehow, its savoury nature can be a turn off. And this dish played with that intensity – at points enhancing it with the vanilla and then playing with nuttiness from hazelnuts and then somehow removing it altogether with the fennel jam. But surprisingly, we both enjoyed it – it was almost on a limit of intensity, too far and it would have been overpowering, but this is what Ernie does, take it to the limit and hold you there.
The next course was trout with baby Jersey royal potatoes, and fresh young asparagus with a fish sauce, with a glass of Rimauresq Cru Class, Provence. Here’s where we were, and I hate to use the word disappointment, because that’s not quite right, and yet we were a little. Every course up to this point had been delicious. Beautiful. This wasn’t a bad course – we enjoyed it, the fish was perfectly cooked, the asparagus fresh and crisp – but it just wasn’t on the same level. And that was somewhat emphasised by the next course.
Beautifully, divinely tender hogget, pickled tomato, heritage carrots, and toasted spelt, served with a glass of Drylands Pereberg Pinotage. This was a plate lickingly good course. The hogget was just beautiful, the tomatoes sharp, the carrots sweet and warm, the samphire salty and crisp, the spelt warm and nutty.
I couldn’t lick the plate, but I could quietly and repeatedly wipe my finger across it to get every bit of jus.
To finish, there were two desserts. Beetroot cake with blueberries, salted caramel and passion fruit cream, with a glass of Pacherenc St Albert. This was on my limit of sweetness. The beetroot cake was earthy, whilst the cream was intensely sweet from the passion fruit. Again I was taken to my limit and held there, the blueberries providing a crisp acidity that surprisingly cut through providing relief from the sweet cream.
After the intensity of the prior course, the final dessert was more savoury, and yet incredibly light. ‘Lemon meringue’ with lemon parfait, dill, liquorice and fennel, served with Muscat Beaume de Venise. The parfait was so light it was air, melting in the mouth punctuated by rich sweet liquorice, crisp meringue and the strands of dill, with slivers of candied fennel. Out of the two dessert courses, this was my favourite – I loved the layering of flavours.
As ever, Ernie and his team impress. I’ve been on a culinary adventure with his cooking more than once, and I hope to again. His cooking seems more relaxed in some ways now, he seems more able to explore and refine ideas. And the setting couldn’t be prettier or, more relaxed. It’s fantastically creative food in an informal, unpretentious environment, that almost belies the skill and creativity of both the kitchen and the wine cellar.
And now I know just how close The Lord Clyde is to the train station (even if Sarah did have to give us a lift in the end because our taxi was, er, slow to arrive) I suspect this won’t be our last visit.
I can’t wait.
This meal and accompanying drinks were supplied for free by The Lord Clyde. As ever, this doesn’t guarantee a positive review (if anything, I tend to be a harsher critic).
I’m downright thrilled to see what Ernst and Sarah have created. It’s gastro pub without the connotations of the gastropub term – the food is as ever fantastic, the atmosphere beautifully chilled and again, thank you. We’re happy to see you happy.