Ramsons review

“So, what do you think of those salad leaves, Sir?” asks some weird bloke who looks like he has just stepped out of Lord of the Rings.

“Actually, really good.”

Roast Lyme Park venison with potato dauphinoise, grilled black pudding and beetroot and chocolate sorbet was spectacular. A feast for the eyes that made love to the tastebuds. Carnoli rice risotto with ramsons (which is another name for wild garlic) and wild mushrooms. Clearly, loony tunes goes picking his own at dawn.

“You see,” carries on Bilbo’s great uncle, “It’s spraying them with the Buffalo shit that does it”.

Wow.

Gordo was waiting for the inevitable diatribe on local food sourcing, instead he got one on the produce Ramsons flies in from the market in Milan.

Bilbo’s great Uncle is Chris Johnson, the owner of Ramsons, a restaurant in Ramsbottom which has won accolade after accolade from amongst others, The Good Food Guide (which also awarded it the Readers' Restaurant of the Year not so long ago).

Chris has a different stance on buying produce than most. It simply has to be the best available. Don’t, for God’s sake, ask him about carrots, as he will start to explain why some taper down to a fine tip and others have a ‘bull nose’.

Chris is absolutely in love with all things Italian, as long as he considers it superior to local produce. His obsession is not only getting the best produce but also knowing the provenance right down to the fertiliser the farmer uses, hence the salad leaves coming from a particular valley in Northern Italy and being sprayed with buffalo poo. Apparently a certain Luigi Pirola at the market looks after him.

Gordo was open mouthed in admiration with the blinding quality of the leaves, the perfect little tomatoes that had been pumped full of tomato semtex along with the genius of a kitchen that had dressed it as well as any Michelin three star restaurant in South West France.

Mind you, Chris still uses locals for fish (Chris Neeve at Fleetwood Docks), asparagus (Tod and Barbara Bulmer at Kenyon Hall farm) and the dairy is by Tom Parkinson at Clifton’s farm

Gordo was second course in to a lunch that started out as a quick call in to see what all the fuss was about, and finished six weeks and three visits later. That first lunch re-aquainted him with a restaurant he had not visited for 27 years. Back then, you arrived at 7.30pm, there was no choice apart from the wine and Chris’s partner was cooking in the back. It was a good dinner.

The restaurant has evolved into a very high quality, quirky, comfortable and homely place that is a delight to sit in for a few hours. It relaxes you with (strangely homo-erotic) textile wall coverings, its brilliantly designed seats and the welcome from a young, local but talented front of house. Chris you can’t call young, but you can’t call him old either. He is keen to point out that there are as many female nipples on display as blokes on the wallpaper, but Gordo isn’t so sure. They are definitely in softer focus.

It helps to be a bit street-wise with the wine here. Gordo has been given a bollocking recently from the delightful Ray King, the renowned food critic who thinks Gordo isn’t giving wine a big enough story in these reviews.

He is, of course, right. But forgive Gordo, Ray. The loveable mentalist at Ramsons has the largest Italian list he has ever come across and every single one has been personally selected. Gordo is in awe. There is upwards of a quarter of a million quid’s-worth in his cellars and he has tried eight bottles over three visits. Gordo tells Chris what he wants to spend and he chooses. Every time he has been introduced to a wine completely new to him and each time he falls in love. It’s like watching the ladies walk the square in Turin at dusk on a warm Friday evening. Enchanting, each and every one.

The food is produced by a kitchen brigade who are every bit as passionate about what they do with Chris’s choice of ingredients as he is at choosing them. Over the three visits, and bear with me on prices for the moment, we felt let down with one dish (Chris Fielding-Martin of Village Hotels, monkfish a little dry?) and Gordo had cod which he found a little bland. Chris took the first piece of criticism on the chin; the second, not quite so.

“Delicate, Gordo, delicate, clearly something you are not acquainted with…” He may well have a point. In the meantime, Chris’s menus are structured vertically into five or six courses. Appetisers, first course, vegetable course: the aforementioned glorious jumble of leaves with a honey based dressing, or sublime, perfectly cooked vegetables that had cauliflower and broccoli, amongst others, dressed in a light, but tangy pesto. Then, main course, cheese plates (by Carole Faulkner at the Chester cheese shop) and sweet things.

Roast Lyme Park venison with potato dauphinoise, grilled black pudding and beetroot and chocolate sorbet was spectacular. A feast for the eyes that made love to the tastebuds. Carnoli rice risotto with ramsons (which is another name for wild garlic - hence the name of the town. Translated Ramsbottom means 'valley of the wild garlic') and wild mushrooms. Clearly, loony tunes goes picking his own at dawn. That creamy, slightly brown garlic aroma and mushrooms which had been rained on overnight stood up out of the perfect rice and shouted that they were proud to be British and lived for nothing other than Gordo’s pleasure. If only women were the same.

Seared Shetland scallops with pea puree and prosecco cream sauce was as good as the last time that Gordo ate in Reims, at Gerard Boyer’s champagne chateaux. The puddings are beguiling: they sit there and draw you in. Once you give in, you are in a particular kind of heaven that chocolate lovers well know. Very, very lush.

This is a jumble of a review, which is what Ramsons is: a jumble. Writing this piece on a spring Saturday evening, Gordo is wondering whether to call Chris and see if he has a walk in for two.

Chris’s kitchen team is headed up by Naseem as head chef. On the first lunch, Naseem was on holiday and Gordo met the number two, Babak, who is every bit as good as his boss. Andy, the pastry chef, looks about 16 and performs as if he has been working with Albert Roux for the past 60 years.

Ramsons pricing system is another jumble, working by grouping dishes. For example, a light lunch is £18, which includes an amuse bouche, a salad and any main course. A two course lunch is £24 and three course, £30. You then add additional dishes on at £6. There is a ten course tasting meal at £50. Then you get a loyalty discount thrown in every now and again at 25 per cent. Dinner pricing is bewildering, but runs from £36 to £70, go to the website listed below, Gordo is worn out trying to figure it all out. It is, however, great value when you actually do finish up with the bill.

This team would love a Michelin star, but will never get one. They are too good. Quirky, different, hugely entertaining and great cooks. No doubt the inspectors keep coming round and getting baffled. Lambs, reviewing Lions.

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Rating:	18.5/20
Breakdown:	8.5/10 food 5/5 service 5/5 ambience
Address:	Ramsons Restaurant 18, Market Place Ramsbottom Bury BL0 9HT 017068 25070 Click here for the website.

Venues are rated against the best examples of their kind: fine dining against the best fine dining, cafes against the best cafes. Following on from this the scores represent: 1-5 saw your leg off and eat it, 6-9 get a DVD, 10-11 if you must, 12-13 if you’re passing,14-15 worth a trip,16-17 very good, 17-18 exceptional, 19 pure quality, 20 perfect. More than 20: Gordo gets carried away