Festive menu a tougher selection than England’s midfield
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World Cup withdrawal symptoms were a thing of the past on this, the eve of the mouth-watering quarter-final clash between England and France. Speaking of mouth-watering, it was paramount that ‘The Chequers’ delivered nothing less, as the small matter of Holland vs Argentina was underway.
Now because there’s a fair chance that many of you reading this won’t be locals, we need to clear something up. The Woolsthorpe in question is actually Woolsthorpe-by-Belvoir, which is not to be confused with Belvoir village. The former is on the Lincolnshire side of the county border, whilst the latter seeps into Leicestershire, as well as being the birthplace of some bloke called Isaac Newton.
If that wasn’t enough to confuse you, Belvoir is pronounced ‘Beaver’ rather than ‘Bel-voir’. Anyway, enough of the geography, history and linguistics lessons, it’s Christmastime and I was here to try out the festive menu, from which it was less than straightforward to pick three courses. As luck would have it, I’d had plenty of time to select in advance, otherwise some recent VAR decisions would’ve been given a serious run for their money.
Some honourable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut but deserve a little bit of publicity? As far as starters went the honey roast parsnip soup stood out. This being a Yuletide affair, turkey and Christmas pudding were available, but their rivals – particularly braised daube of beef bourguignon – still beat them into third place. The cheese plate with Cropwell Bishop Stilton and Lincolnshire Poacher gave the added reassurance that this menu was as locally sourced as possible – hats off Chequers!
So hopefully I was off to a flyer with curried goats’ cheese, and I’d had pictures in my mind as to how this would actually look. All I could think of was a white slab tinged with rust, which in a nutshell probably explains why I shouldn’t even think about filling in an application for Masterchef. It couldn’t be further from what I’d imagined; the curried element gave the cheese a slightly crumbly texture, providing a bit of bite but never rendering it dry. The exotic flavouring was subtle enough to ensure that India and Lincolnshire were represented equally on the plate.
I was expecting the hake to be more familiar territory. That’s not to say I eat the king of fish on a regular basis (unfortunately), but I had a fair idea on how the finished article might look. However, the accompanying caper crushed new potatoes, kale and hollandaise sauce were sure to bring the funkiness. All the different flavours had got to know each other well without surrendering their individuality; like the current England set-up, it all worked as a team but all players offered something unique.
Finally, cheesecake, which you can never go wrong with. If the goats cheese had been the leftfield choice, this was always going to be the opposite of Croatia vs Brazil – predictable. This is meant in the best possible way, of course, because who doesn’t love cheesecake? Mind you, cranberry and white chocolate offered a hint of the unexpected, and while the difference between the everyday strawberry variety was nuanced at best, it was more than welcome.
A beautifully quaint setting, low-beamed ceilings and open coal fires left you in little doubt that you were entering a country pub-restaurant. A wild boar’s head was also on display to dispel any illusions that might still remain, something that had stuck in my mind after spending another splendid night at The Chequers one New Year’s Eve.
But haggis, neeps and tatties are for another time, another year. My decision to avoid the usual turkey and Christmas pudding on this particular evening had proved to be a tactic so inspired, I could feel Gareth Southgate’s envy beaming bright green all the way from Qatar.
Dining was done and dusted in time to catch a glimpse of the end of the match, which certainly delivered, as did The Chequers. I left praying that England would have a better chance of survival the next night than that unfortunate wild boar had managed.
The Early Whistle 