Knightingales, Grantham: Tea, toast and tongue-in-cheek humour

Classy, cosy cracker of a café

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

It’s said you should never live in the past, but this particular morning I felt daring enough to break the rules, especially as I’d decided to revisit a place that was a semi-regular haunt of mine many years ago. Knightingales, a café now established for decades, had a lot to live up to by virtue of the excellent reputation it had in my own eyes. Would it turn out to be a victim of its own success?

As you may or may not be aware, this is my very first restaurant review of any kind, so go easy on me. You’ll have gathered by now that this isn’t going to be a testament to a three-course meal from an a la carte menu, but they do say breakfast is the best way to start, so who am I to argue?

This seems a good place to mention a few cafés Grantham’s lost over the last year or two, for different reasons – Cosy Corner, Fellows, Barker’s, we salute you. But this is a review, not a eulogy, so let’s crack on. Why was I so inquisitive after all this time? Back in the day, Knightingales didn’t do fried-ups, rather it was more your typical afternoon tea joint. That’s still reflected in the dark-light balance of the decor, as well as the clientèle that frequent now as they did then: a respectable, ever-so-slightly middle-class crowd. In terms of cooked food, lasagne and jacket potatoes were the order of the day (still available), so have they nailed the full English as well?

Cue a lovely, sunny day (take no notice of the photo, it was sunny when I walked in). However, it was November, so as inviting as sitting outside this place can be – particularly in the small courtyard that runs alongside – al fresco was never on the cards. Inside it looked pretty much exactly as I remembered it; even the corner table I almost made my own was still there and vacant – don’t mind if I do. One of the husband-and-wife team that run the joint was my host today. Today it was the husband; charming, helpful and attentive, without a hint of being overbearing, which is more difficult to get right than it sounds. He was also on hand to give advice on DIY at B&Q to an elderly customer, so a mine of information to boot.

To my surprise, I was asked to pick from white, wholemeal and granary bread for toast – and there was me expecting just a straight shoot-out between white and brown! Had I walked into a Subway by mistake? A pleasantly short-lived dilemma, which ended in a thumbs-up for granary, in case you’re interested. What’s also pleasant is the free tea and coffee, available Monday-Friday until midday. Wouldn’t you know it, this was 11am on a Friday; curse my good fortune.

And so to the star of the show. Firstly, as the overwhelming majority of breakfasts come with baked beans, and I’m really not a fan, I have to ask that this ever-popular staple is omitted. Get that right and you’re halfway there, and I’m pleased to report Knightingales did. Secondly, tomatoes aren’t really an issue, but I do have a huge preference for tinned over fresh – again, box ticked. Thirdly, although it’s far more commonplace these days (due to celebrity chefs starting to sing it praises, even though outside London most people have tried it) black pudding is still far from a given. No fear of that today.

I should point out that this was a large breakfast, the biggest available, with medium, small and vegetarian the other options. Quantity over quality and vice versa is a clichéd thing, but it’s so damn important that it must be mentioned that Knightingales got the balance just right. Everything looked and tasted as fresh as a daisy. The Lincolnshire chipolatas were an interesting alternative, with no less of that subtle, zingy kick you get with a regular Lincolnshire sausage, despite being smaller in stature. The mushrooms were charcoal chunks that ker-chinged on the tongue – no hint of any of the pale insipidness that the eyes and mouth can sometimes stumble upon.

The one slight criticism? The cup-avoiding milk jug. Still, practice makes perfect; better luck next time n’ all that. The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed the absence of hash browns from the plate, which don’t actually appear on the menu at all. This might leave a few aghast, but as nice as they are, I’ve always seen them as an imposter from America; an invader on the breakfast plate; like grey squirrels being introduced to UK woodlands.

Local fauna aside, it was time to go. “That was brilliant,” I beamed, as I parted with my cash (a very reasonable £7), and it was indeed everything a full English should be. “Thanks very much, although this is the brilliant bit,” quipped my host/DIY expert. Tea, toast and tongue-in-cheek humour – if in Grantham, get yourself to Knightingales.