Devonshire Arms, Pilsley, Derbyshire

It can get very confusing round these parts if someone suggests dining at the Devonshire Arms. On the night we completed the sale of my house in Wakefield I wanted to celebrate with dinner at this Devonshire, it being game season and this being a speciality of theirs, but sadly they were full. So we tried to call this Devonshire instead, I'd enjoyed a meal there before so it seemed like a good alternative, but they weren't answering the phone. Maybe we got the wrong number and tried to call this Devonshire, or maybe this one. Who knows?

All was not lost, as we ended up at this Devonshire instead. Panic over. The Devonshire Arms in Pilsley is the pubbier sister to the Devonshire Arms in Beeley, just a few miles across the Chatsworth estate. Both are run by the mini-empire controlled by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire themselves (which in case you were wondering also includes Yorkshire's Devonshire Arms at Bolton Abbey, and the Devonshire Fell at nearby Burnsall. Must have had a crisis of confidence with that last one. What's wrong with Arms all of a sudden?).

You can tell when you're in a proper Devonshire with aristocratic proprietors, as within five minutes or so of arriving you're bound to see the Duke and Duchess posing on some piece of literature or other, looking all patrician yet welcoming, like a sort of friendlier local royal family. I imagine this is what the Queen's descendants will be doing a century hence, when we've finally gone Republican and you can't travel 50 yards in Berkshire or Norfolk without stumbling upon another Windsor Arms.

I digress. Whatever your views on the future of the monarchy (for some reason the debate never seems to run to whether or not they'd make a killing in the hospitality business) and the aristocracy the Devonshires generally oversee a pretty good quality operation.

The Pilsley outpost was a case in point. Solid, very accomplished pub grub, not at the gastro end of the spectrum, but very much in the traditional sense.

I considered leaving the photos off this post, as everything looks weirdly rubbish, more wacky warehouse two-for-one in appearance than the enjoyable, well cooked meal it actually was. We shared a bowl of garlic mushrooms to start. A big bowl of sauteed mushrooms swimming in loads of creamy, garlicky goodness. The work of five minutes by a ten year old (theoretically, I'm not suggesting they're exploiting children) in the kitchen, but if it ain't broke.... Just one minor quibble though, the bread could have been fresher.

For reasons I can't quite fathom I ordered the mixed grill. I can't recall ever having done this before, ever (maybe in a Wetherspoon's about fifteen years ago?). I love meat but have limits, and the mixed grill always seems the preserve of men with a death wish. I can remember watching a particularly portly fellow working his way through a humongous one in a pub in Lancashire once, increasingly clammy and red-faced, washing it down with pints of bitter. I'm convinced he didn't make it through the night, dead within hours to a massive coronary on the can, Elvis style.

Anyway that's the mental picture I associate with the mixed grill, so you can imagine my surprise when I accidentally ordered the bugger. You know what? I'm glad I did. Every piece of meat was cooked just right, with a nice bit of char on the outside and deep blush pink, where warranted, on the inside. There was a sausage, a well hung beefsteak, a lamb chop, and gammon and pork steaks. Only the latter, the boring one of the bunch, defeated me.

Chips and salad were proper, in that the chips had crunch (don't trust the pasty appearance on the pic) and were their own, and that the salad was lots of stuff mixed up together with a lively mustard dressing. A completely unnecessary side order of onion rings (it was A's fault, she's pregnant. Don't blame me) were the kind that you could happily eat all evening.

Not wanting to push my luck with that death wish, we retreated, thoroughly satisfied, without pudding. It hadn't been Plan A, but the Pilsley Devonshire came up with the goods. Prices are probably on the high side for normal pub food, but fine when you consider the quality. I'd rather pay £12-16 for an enjoyable plateful than the £8-12 dross that so many of the places round here offer. Orders are taken at the bar, so there wasn't really much in the way of service to speak of. They fetched the food and cleared the tables.

Would I go again? Yes, definitely. Another mixed grill? Probably not.

8/10

On the Chatsworth Estate
Pilsley
Derbyshire
DE45 1UL

http://www.devonshirepilsley.co.uk/

Zeugma, Sheffield

Zeugma is a proper ocakbaşı, a Turkish grill house. It's a small, basic but welcoming restaurant where people come to feast on meat. There are other bits and pieces; salads, dips, stews and pide, but these are really just an overture to the thrill of the grill, which sits in pride of place in full view at the heart of the restaurant.

Our snacky things were an excellent precursor to the kebabs. A generous basket of fresh bread arrived with a dish of little salty olives and gherkin slices, all complimentary and sufficient enough to comprise a starter if you're not being greedy.

We were being greedy, so plates of halloumi and hummous were added to the mix. I can't quite put my finger on why halloumi is such a good thing, but it is. On paper chewy cheese conjures up thoughts of cheese strings or some other horrible, processed muck. In practice halloumi manages to be chewy yet delicious. This had a really more-ish salty sweet flavour to complement that satisfying but slightly strange texture, and worked a treat with the pickles.

Hummous was the best I've eaten in a while, a bit grainy but otherwise creamy and nutty and essential scooping and mopping goodness for the bread.

Iskender kebab was a dreamily calorific concoction of buttery bread smothered in tomato sauce, charred minced lamb kebab slices, smoky grilled peppers and tomatoes, and yoghurt as good as any I've had in a long time. Yoghurt so smooth, creamy, tart and fresh I'm seriously considering calling the restaurant to find out who their supplier is.

The Iskender was a winning combination, but a very rich one, so sharing something a little less full on made sense. Chicken shish was a more staid proposition but still a very accomplished plate of food. Standard Turkish plating of rice, bread, grilled veg and salad, but done well and with wonderful generosity. 

We finished with tea, Turkish for me and apple for A, which was served with a couple of cubes of Turkish delight, a nice touch to end the meal.

Service was swift but we weren't in the least bit rushed even though the place was full. £45 including service for all of the food and a couple of beers. Highly recommended.


9/10

146 London Road
Sheffield
S2 4LT

http://www.zeugmaiki.co.uk

Southern Eleven, Manchester

It's a funny part of town, Spinningfields. The place definitely has more character and interest than most newly built developments, in both its architecture and drinking and dining options, but there's still something lacking that I can't quite put my finger on.

I ate at one of those dining options last week, Southern Eleven, an on-with-recent-trends American BBQ restaurant. We shared chicken wings and deep fried pickles to start, the first time I've tried these fabled spears of joy. They were as fantastic as I'd hoped, the crunchy batter and sudden hit of vinegar is more than a little addictive.

The wings were just ok, the hickory sauce wasn't overly sweet but the skin was a bit wan and flabby.

All four of us ended up ordering the same main, a southern tasting platter of pork belly ribs, pulled pork and beef brisket with fries. Good things first: the slabs of pork belly were ace, with loads of sweet juicy flesh under a quivering, charred at the edges fat layer. The pulled pork was similarly flavoured and also enjoyable.

I'm not sure what was wrong with the brisket though, it just didn't taste like brisket to me. Eighteen hours in the smoker had somehow rendered it tender but virtually tasteless.

Fries weren't as much fun as the advertised parmesan truffle coating suggested they might be, being slightly underfried run of the mill catering pack jobs with not much in the way of anything truffley in evidence. They weren't short of parmesan though, so still got scarfed in short order.

A side order of BBQ beans were pleasant, but not so pleasant they didn't get forgotten about and left to go cold. Cold beer was the sensible booze option, Brooklyn lager is the best one on the list.

Service was good throughout the meal, and prices are reasonable. We paid about 23 quid each including two beers apiece. The food was great in parts, but like the surrounding area, slightly lacking in others. Worth a visit to satisfy that meat craving.

7/10

Unit 26

3 Hardman Street

Spinningfields

Manchester

M3 3EB

http://www.southern11.co.uk/

Fazenda, Leeds

Meat. More meat! More meat! The battle cry remains the same, the venues change. From time to time the lifelong (well they haven't ditched me yet anyway) friends I met at University and I like to meet up to drink, make merry and eat a lot of something large and meaty.

It might be in curried form, it could be Chinese or perhaps a barbecue. In days of yore the cry originated in the kebab shops of Hyde Park, the meat of dubious quality, foot long strips of it stuffed in budget pitta and doused in hot sauce.

Nowadays I wouldn't touch that stuff. Honest. Well alright I might if you plied me with enough booze first. But it's a very rare occurence. I like to think our palates have developed, become refined over the years, learned to appreciate subtle tastes and quality. In practice it's probably just that we can afford to spend more than £3.50 on dinner.

Last Saturday we tried something a little different, a visit to Leeds' one and only Churrascaria, a Brazilian barbecue restaurant. Fazenda is a Rodizio, a Churrascaria where the meat is grilled in huge chunks on giant skewers which are then fetched to your table where the flesh is sliced directly onto your plate. This continues indefinitely using a beer mat traffic light system. Leave your mat on green, and hey presto. Meat! More meat! Flip to red and they'll stop.

If you like meat this seems like a very good idea. If you don't I wouldn't bother.

In practice it's not always such a good idea. I've got history with the Rodizio. Some years ago I spent a few weeks in Brazil (and its equally meat-tastic southern neighbour Argentina), the final week of which was in Rio where I did literally nothing but eat meat at a Rodizio and drink Caipirinhas. Alright not quite literally, but that's the abiding memory. Presumably I was lying on the beach with the meat and booze sweats inbetween times.

After the excesses of Brazil I didn't go near another Rodizio for another few years until a couple of very underwhelming experiences in a London restaurant. Meat that was mostly overcooked and poor quality, the best cuts showing up far too infrequently. Compared to the generosity and quality we'd experienced in Brazil it was a waste of time.

Fast forward another couple of years to Fazenda. Would it be like a true Brazilian Rodizio, or would it follow the annoyingly common British approach to this sort of thing (i.e. offer all you can eat, hide behind a gimmick, then don't worry about the quality because they'll be queuing out the door anyway)?

Thankfully it was much more like the true Brazilian experience. Meat! More meat!

Did I mention the salad bar? While the meat and various other sundry items (chips, beef empanadas, pao de queijo) are fetched to you, the salad bar is self service. I was quite impressed with the salad bar at Fazenda. Plentifully stocked, good quality, a selection of cold cuts available as well as green stuff in case unlimited hot sliced meat just isn't enough.

The bread from the salad bar was good but the pao de queijo (little cheesy rolls) were a bit chewy and rubbish. I liked the beef empanadas though. Good and meaty. Always makes sense to commence an all you can eat meat barbecue meal with some little meat pies.

And then the meat began to arrive. Beefsteak in a multitude of ways. Rump and tail of rump and picanha, or cap of rump, the King of the Rodizio.

Even a bit of fillet, and then some ribs. None of it was overcooked, everything ranged from medium through to rare, no well done steak in sight. Not the best beef I've tasted, but decent stuff and handled well.

There were sausages, Brazilian style chorico and black pudding, both delicious these. The black pudding was a soft squidgy delight, more like a French boudin than a British pud.

Lamb was over marinaded in a slightly artificial tasting minty sauce, but was beautifully cooked within, pink and tender.

There was chicken, no breasts I'm pleased to say, but crispy skinned thighs and also hearts. I had high hopes for these after enjoying them on holiday last year, but sadly they were like rubber balls.

Meat! More meat! It continued until closing time, we dined late, the beef getting ever rarer as time progressed. The final skewer was blue, virtually raw, I think they'd doused the flames but brought it to us anyway.

Finally spent, my faith in the Rodizio restored, we headed off, fortified for the rest of the night.

It's a fun evening a meal at Fazenda, but not a cheap one. On a weekend night the all you can eat Rodizio will set you back £28 (weeknights and lunchtimes are cheaper). By the time we'd quaffed a load of drinkable but unspectacular Malbec our bill topped out at £44 per head including well earned service (we worked those meat waiters hard). The meat was good but not excellent, so if you want to stuff your face I'd go here, but if you want a genuinely fine piece of meat I'd go elsewhere.

7/10

Waterman’s Place
3 Wharf Approach
Granary Wharf
Leeds
LS1 4BR

www.fazenda.co.uk