Twelve. Marsh Mill Village, Thornton Cleveleys
We went because Jonathan recommended it – to The Times – and enjoyed the experience very much. It may take a few more words than usual to do it justice. The key to its success is attention to detail. The restaurant describes itself as “urban chic”. That’s pretty accurate and the surroundings are a bit like sitting in Purves and Purves on the Tottenham Court Road, so good taste all round. The ceiling is high so the space is just a bit on the chilly side in mid-January but that’s good justification for tucking into hearty soups and stews. The wine is retrieved from a rack that climbs the wall. Staff use a sliding ladder to do this. A little bit of opera enacted without the aria. The entire restaurant is, thankfully, non-smoking.
Something to nibble
Three different sorts of breads presented without request to keep the hunger pangs at bay. It’s easy to disguise poor bread by putting “stuff” in it (you know, cheese, olives, that sort of stuff) but this was both good quality bread and flavour-packed “stuff” – the onion bread for example had more than a mere hint of onion and a crunchy crust that was crystallised, yet savoury; served with fresh butter of course in the shape of 1 and 2 (twelve).
The hors d’oeuvre
Smoked mackerel mousse. Light but pungent; how do they pack in so much flavour? Served with a little pile of ultra-light corn (?) crisps, a little stack of salad leaves and chive and a hint of light lemon sauce. Went very well with another basket of bread and presentation that is pleasing to the eye.
The entrée
Braised beef with herb dumpling. Just right for a winter’s evening. Tender (of course) and savoury enough to have a hint of liver taste behind it. Delicious. The dumpling was unique in being both light yet filling; onions and carrots in the casserole along with a bulb of fennel and served with more carrots and cauliflower and boiled, glazed potatoes. Interesting contrast between the softer texture of the vegetables in the casserole – perfect consistency for veg that have been cooked along with the meat – and those presented separately, which were cooked as near perfect as you can get, so still firm without tending towards raw. My companion would have preferred a green vegetable to balance the colour but at least we had so much we had to leave some.
Pudding
I chose the Victoria sponge with rhubarb compote served with a crème anglaise. Another pudding with a tip of a mint plant. I continue to wonder what happens to the rest of the plant but as soon as I lifted it from the pudding top I could smell the mint. Lovely consistency of steamed sponge, creamy taste to it, even without the crème. Rhubarb in a lovely red, thick, syrupy sauce. Pity to finish. My companion chose the three local cheese plate to go with a glass of port (I was driving later). I had a sliver of each – marvellous to find such diverse and unique cheeses from the Fylde coast. One smoked, one slightly blue (mixed with a cheddar according to the host) and one cream. Served with homemade biscuits and chutney.
Wine
The host offered us two recommendations. She clearly knew her onions and suggested something that could stand up to the beef without overwhelming the mackerel mousse: a Costieres de Nimes (Domaine Pastouret, 2002) and my companion thought it so good he asked for the supplier’s details so he could order a case – and got them (but we’re keeping it secret).
Coffee for me, Irish coffee for my companion (with Tia Maria as there was no Kahlua). Good, strong, rich.
Bill. We used the Market (fixed price) menu and got good value. £59 for the two of us.
Attention to detail – the key to this restaurant’s attraction. See the note about the butter, above. It runs through the food, the service, the surroundings, the staff, who are clearly handpicked. The host was Caroline Upton, clearly at the helm front of house. The food is served always by two people: one to hold the tray with the food on, the other to lift it off and place it in front of you – without having to ask who is having what. The little pieces of wrapped rock that come with the sugar don’t have Blackpool through them – they have “Twelve”.
http://www.twelve-restaurant.co.uk/
Something to nibble
Three different sorts of breads presented without request to keep the hunger pangs at bay. It’s easy to disguise poor bread by putting “stuff” in it (you know, cheese, olives, that sort of stuff) but this was both good quality bread and flavour-packed “stuff” – the onion bread for example had more than a mere hint of onion and a crunchy crust that was crystallised, yet savoury; served with fresh butter of course in the shape of 1 and 2 (twelve).
The hors d’oeuvre
Smoked mackerel mousse. Light but pungent; how do they pack in so much flavour? Served with a little pile of ultra-light corn (?) crisps, a little stack of salad leaves and chive and a hint of light lemon sauce. Went very well with another basket of bread and presentation that is pleasing to the eye.
The entrée
Braised beef with herb dumpling. Just right for a winter’s evening. Tender (of course) and savoury enough to have a hint of liver taste behind it. Delicious. The dumpling was unique in being both light yet filling; onions and carrots in the casserole along with a bulb of fennel and served with more carrots and cauliflower and boiled, glazed potatoes. Interesting contrast between the softer texture of the vegetables in the casserole – perfect consistency for veg that have been cooked along with the meat – and those presented separately, which were cooked as near perfect as you can get, so still firm without tending towards raw. My companion would have preferred a green vegetable to balance the colour but at least we had so much we had to leave some.
Pudding
I chose the Victoria sponge with rhubarb compote served with a crème anglaise. Another pudding with a tip of a mint plant. I continue to wonder what happens to the rest of the plant but as soon as I lifted it from the pudding top I could smell the mint. Lovely consistency of steamed sponge, creamy taste to it, even without the crème. Rhubarb in a lovely red, thick, syrupy sauce. Pity to finish. My companion chose the three local cheese plate to go with a glass of port (I was driving later). I had a sliver of each – marvellous to find such diverse and unique cheeses from the Fylde coast. One smoked, one slightly blue (mixed with a cheddar according to the host) and one cream. Served with homemade biscuits and chutney.
Wine
The host offered us two recommendations. She clearly knew her onions and suggested something that could stand up to the beef without overwhelming the mackerel mousse: a Costieres de Nimes (Domaine Pastouret, 2002) and my companion thought it so good he asked for the supplier’s details so he could order a case – and got them (but we’re keeping it secret).
Coffee for me, Irish coffee for my companion (with Tia Maria as there was no Kahlua). Good, strong, rich.
Bill. We used the Market (fixed price) menu and got good value. £59 for the two of us.
Attention to detail – the key to this restaurant’s attraction. See the note about the butter, above. It runs through the food, the service, the surroundings, the staff, who are clearly handpicked. The host was Caroline Upton, clearly at the helm front of house. The food is served always by two people: one to hold the tray with the food on, the other to lift it off and place it in front of you – without having to ask who is having what. The little pieces of wrapped rock that come with the sugar don’t have Blackpool through them – they have “Twelve”.
http://www.twelve-restaurant.co.uk/
posted by Jean-Paul Sartre at
9:23 pm
