for the pan-fried halloumi and pomegranate salad with lemon yoghurt dressing. My lunch partner goes for the home-made fish-finger sandwich and seasonal greens. When the waitress brings over the dishes she gives me the fishfinger sandwich and I’m tempted to hang on to it; the mistake is understandable as it’s a real ‘man’wich with crunchy haddock slices between two great slabs of fresh granary bread. Chasing pomegranate seeds round the plate, my partner attempts to fit the sandwich in her mouth but has to resort to a knife and fork.
Over coffee in the garden later, I’m tempted to sink into an armchair, pick out a book or two and while away the afternoon enjoying the sun and the music drifting out of the french doors, perhaps staying for the venison sausages. “It’s a big ‘ol garden in-et?” remarks one grizzled local builder to another, having a pint and some lunch. Wondering if they are going to fire up the barbecue in the evening, it strikes me that even if it’s almost a cliché of a modern gastro-pub; it’s a good cliché. Maybe I should move to Gloucester Road for good? Laurence Owen Photos by Ian Bradley www.ianbradleyphotography.com
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