Our top find was t
he Royal Well Tavern, a small former pub a short walk from the main tourist street, now operating as a buzzing and sophisticated bistro. It holds a Bib Gourmand from the Michelin folks; as opposed to the lofty prices generally associated with Michelin stars, at the Bibs you're supposed to be able to get a full meal with wine for 28 pounds per person or less. While our choices on the a la carte menu, and our wine consumption, took us a bit above this mark, the Well was without doubt excellent value for money.A mix of French classics with best-of-British ingredient sourcing, the menu offered a wide range of tempting choices. The 21 pound set price menu, available up until 6pm, would have made for a lavish lunch. Given our sightseeing schedule, however, we turned up for a late dinner.
I started with a ham hock and foie gras terrine; hearty, chewy chunks of pork surrounding a core of melt-in-the-mouth liver, accompanied by pieces of warm brioche toast. The man was so delighted with his pear and blue cheese salad that he was trying to diagnose the recipe in order to re-create it at home. (The waitress was very helpful, providing details of the dressing components.) We both opted for the turbot. It's a fish not seen that often on menus and one I'd never had, but it features frequently at special events in some of my favourite novels about ancient Rome (the Didius Falco series) so I wanted to try it. A bit of a cross between swordfish and sole, it was tasty, but its slightly chewy texture left me less satisfied than I would have been with those other fish. The salad it lay atop, however, made the whole dish. A warm mix of plump, fresh peas, herbs, languostine tails and butter definitely stole the show from the turbot. Clearly, they have a way with vegetables here, as our side of creamed spinach was fantastic. Portion sizes are generous as well ... we couldn't possibly manage dessert that night.
For a great lunch option we discovered John Gordons wine bar in the heart of the Montpelier district. It's really a wine shop, with floor to ceiling shelves packed with interesting, unusual choices from wineries you've probably never heard of. But they have a few tables in the middle of the shop, and a few out in the Regency arcade at the shop's back, to which they serve a basic menu of sandwiches, wraps and salads. Accompanied, of course, but a good selection of wines by the glass.
It turned out to be a French bistro kind of weekend, as our other two evenings were both spent at the Brasserie Blanc. This is a chain, now eight locations strong, founded by star chef and proprietor of the famous Manoir aux Quatre Saisons, Raymond Blanc. Where the Manoir does the upscale and elegant, the Brasseries are supposed to give you more of a sense of the wholesome, French country cooking that came out of Maman Blanc's kitchen. I had eaten at the original in Oxford years ago, finding it pleasant but nothing to go out of the way for. The Cheltenham branch was a very different experience.
There's a great vibe about the place. It's clearly popular with the locals, staffed by brisk and efficient team and located in a big, bright space at the back of the landmark Queen's hotel. The regular menu is filled with standard French favourites and there's a rotating board of daily specials. On our first visit we started with the cheese fondue, which was velvety, rich and laced with just enough kirsch to give the pot a good, authentic kick without being overpowering. My grilled squid on a large rocket salad was an excellent contrast to that high-fat starter, the squid prepared perfectly and the whole thing brought together with a balsamic dressing and these magnificent little oven roasted tomatoes bursting with sweetness. The man was less enthusiastic about his fillet steak, which had gone past the mostly-raw-with-a-bit-of-char-on-the-outside state he'd specified. We were both impressed when the manager took it off the bill, wanting everything to be perfect.
That was certainly a factor in our return visit, as was the fact that both of the independent restaurants we wanted to try on our third night in town were closed. (Cheltenham, it seems, is provincial enough to shut down on Sundays.) After walking through a ghost town of shuttered streets we headed back to the Montpelier district around the Queen's Hotel, the one place we could be sure was still open. Indeed, M. Blanc had a table waiting. This time the man started with pork rillets, which were very pleasant, and I went for the asparagus risotto. I can only give that one an average. I'm pretty picky here, being generally considered a mean risotto chef myself. I thought they'd brought the rice past al dente and had put the asparagus in too early, so it lost some of its bite.
Better luck with my main of baked chicken and ratatouille, the latter notable for the exceptionally fine dice on the vegetables that made this a much more delicate version, while preserving all the traditional flavours. The beef stroganoff across the table was excellent as well. And as it was the last night of the holiday weekend we splashed out on the baked Alaska, velvety ice cream surrounded by meringue and flamed, as it should be, at the table. (The second fire at the table that night, as the slightly-distracted manager had laid my menu down on top of the tea light and the corner was flaming away before we noticed. Fortunately, there's no more to that story.) Alaska accompanied, in another splurge, by a glass of sweet dessert wine. Excellent, though we both admitted that we'd drunk and eaten far more than was good for us that evening. Probably a good thing that there's not a Brasserie Blanc near us.
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