The other day, I started to ponder all the amazing meals I’ve eaten that I haven’t written about. I’ve decided to quite literally ‘write’ this wrong, if only for my fleeting memory, which unfortunately is failing me like my GCSE IT teacher.
I took the hubby to The Harwood Arms as a birthday present. I devised a mini-break totally dedicated to his loves and interests and took him on a food trip of London geared towards to his tastes. The drawing factor to The Harwood Arms was their famous venison scotch egg. The hubby loves a scotch egg; large ones, black pudding ones, even those mini versions that I want to throw at small children. I knew their specimen would be worth the trip alone.
Brett Graham, sheer hunk of a chef from The Ledbury, is the guy at the reigns of this Michelin starred pub (I’m now envisioning Brett Graham at the helm of a gang of huskies. He is powerful and dominant. Again, he’s wearing no top.
I was a bit perturbed a few days before our reservation when they rang to confirm. I was told to be wary on the day as there was a Chelsea football match scheduled. I acted nonchalant then put the phone down and panicked. Chelsea football match? How could this possibly have anything to do with me? I haven’t been to a football match since I saw somebody throw a pie at David Beckham at Burnden Park in 1995.
After a spot of googling, I unravelled this puzzle. The Harwood Arms is a stone’s throw from Chelsea ground Stamford Bridge. I was scared. I’ve seen The Football Factory, I know what goes on. Those people get drunk and bash each other’s brains out. What were we to do? We couldn’t hide our northern accents and I knew they’d be able to sense my fear. But I’d promised the hubby a venison scotch egg, we had no choice.
When the day arrived, I pulled myself together and calmly went to the restaurants. Yes, there were many blue shirts around, but they all seemed quite jovial and nobody tried to hit us which is always a bonus.
The restaurant is a lovely little quaint pub sat on a quiet corner. Once inside, it is full of natural light and fresh flowers. There’s a bar area which did seat quite a few football fans, but they looked more likely to put their children through private school rather than somebody through a window.
The venison scotch egg is not on the restaurant menu but can still be ordered from the bar snacks.
Coated in thick shards of salt, its treasure hidden inside its crumb.
The menu is pub grub, but ultra-refined.
Duck with morels and butternut squash purree.
A crumble topped onion was stuffed with meat.
Deer T-bone with morels and garlic potatoes
Raspberry jam sandwich
The service is informal and amiable but polished. The atmosphere is relaxed and family friendly. Even the swarm of football fans at the bar did not impact on the ambience one bit.
It’s a bit out of the way but The Harwood Arms is worth the journey. The food is stunning, the staff are wonderful and the football fans unimposing. Brett Graham’s venison scotch egg is just as gorgeous as him. (I’m imagining him eating one. Does this man ever wear a top?)