EATING FOR BRITAIN: THE POT KILN GAME COOKERY SCHOOL

My companion for the day, Rachel, summed it up as we drove home, when she said “It was one of those days, which restores your faith in food”

I knew exactly what she meant. Mike Robinson owner of what is very probably my favourite restaurant in the U.K, The Pot Kiln, had called me a week or so earlier and invited me to be his guest at one of The Pot Kiln's day long game cookery schools. The plan was to meet early in the morning, take a small group out to a local deer farm to select an animal that needed culling, dispatch it and then show us how to grollach it in the field. Afterwards, we would return to the cookery school a few hundred yards from The Pot Kiln and, after a restorative cup of tea and a bacon sandwich Mike would then show us how to butcher and prepare an animal he had shot a week or so before.

Mike being the generous sort that he is invited me to bring a guest along and, as HP could not make it, I posted about it on Twitter and Facebook. Within an hour I had received over fifty requests, but quickest off the mark was my new chum, Rachel. She was not deterred by the 6am starting time from London and by 8am, I was squeezing my battered Ford Focus between some rather smarter cars in front of the purpose built cookery school.

The day panned out exactly as Mike had promised and we were soon en route to the deer park. We soon picked out a likely suspect in the form of a Fallow deer and Mike dispatched him with one cracking round from his rifle. I had been lucky enough to spend time with Mike before, so stepped back and let others give a hand as he expertly showed us how to gut an animal in the field, to check for disease and then how to remove the beautiful livers and kidneys,of course retaining the heart as a special treat for his loyal gundog, Sassy.

Back at the cookery school, Mike was in his element showing us how to skin and butcher another animal. We were doubly fortunate as Alan Hayward, the owner of Vicars Game Dealers had agreed to come in and show us how to break up the animal. What was most remarkable was just how much meat Alan was able to remove from one carcass. Even more so, because he said that to have that much meat vac packed and delivered to your door ready for freezing would only cost about £100. Astonishing value.

Then, of course, it was on to what Mike does best, possibly better than anyone else in the country, cooking up the venison. First up, an Italian style venison stew which Mike prepared with a typical trinity of carrots, onions and celery before adding the sealed meat and lots or red wine. He put that to one side to simmer away and then turned his attention to making a venison Carpaccio and, even more delicious, an old school Stroganoff using thin strips of the venison instead of beef. Finally, Mike’s own invention a version of the French cut of beef “Pave” but taken from the haunch. Stunning when served with some green beans and Robouchon style mashed potatoes that contained almost as much butter as they did starch.

We moved back to the dining room of the cookery school to enjoy our meal. Every dish was outstanding but, for me, the highlights were the Simple stew which had reduced to a thick unctuous meaty ragout and the Stroganoff, which reminded me of why classic dishes are so often the best.

After our late lunch, we staggered back to the car and began the drive back to London. Rachel slumped in her seat trying to keep awake after such a long day and a huge meal “that was probably one of the best food days of my life” she said. Even though I have experienced quite a lot on the last couple of years, it would have been hard not to agree with her.

For those of you interested in cooking game at home, Mike Robinson’s new book FIT FOR TABLE is just about to be published by Quiller Press. Be warned, it is NOT a recipe book and may contain scenes that would make Hannibal Lecter wince (I particularly like the pages of him gutting a wild boar) but it promises to become the textbook on game preparation. Well worth buying as indeed is the Pot Kiln Game Cookery School worth visiting.

CORRIGAN'S: BRINGING HIS "A" GAME TO THE GROSVENOR

Be Any Good. You might think this would be the credo underlying The Dos Hermanos Philosophy of Restaurants™. Close, but no banana, my friend. Just Give A Damn would be a lot more accurate.

We’ve been to plenty of restaurants where the food has been objectively good but the atmosphere and welcome have been sticks-up-their-arses frosty. Conversely, there are many places where Michelin may not be visiting any time soon but, goddammit, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be right at that moment.

Even if the food at Corrigan’s, the eponymously named Mayfair restaurant wasn’t all that I’d still be inclined to like the place. How could I not ? The welcome and service was friendly: from the young lady serving me who wanted to bring me the excellent Soda Bread all through the meal, through to the sommelier who insisted on a little vertical tasting of artisanal grappas. The room is great too: very comfortable, lit just right and crucially, no music. Despite this being their first day of business (after a soft opening week) things appeared to be running as if they had been open for years. Always a good sign.

Fortunately, the food’s terrific too. The menu had me groaning with pleasure – not a nice sound, believe me – but then you don’t see dishes like Game Broth with Livers on Toast or Fried Chorizo, Fennel and Apple or a Salad of Game with Romesco Sauce every day. My starter was beyond workaday too, for in amongst the beautifully briny Colchester Native Oysters and sweet raw Clams was a comped dish of a Cerviche of Razor Clams: a lovely, zingy way to prepare that much underused bivalve.

There was more evidence of deft preparation with terrific ingredients in some slices of sweetly porky suckling pig sausages that were topped by a lightly cooked oyster and some slivers of crisp lamb tongue.

My long position on pork was entrenched with Crubeens: brined Pigs Trotters which had been shredded, coated in panko and deep fried to give a sort of Irish take on the croqueta. As a nod to the Iberian Peninsula and just in case you felt a little pork lite, there were some slices of Jamón from Jabugo draped over the top. A little relish of Horseradish and Beetroot provided the contrast to all that porcine richness.

The menu is game heavy, and why not when it’s one of the best food products from these isles. My benchmark for Venison had up until now been the excellent stuff at the Pot Kiln but the rack of Venison special at Corrigan’s was even better: seared on the outside and a beautifully rich red colour within, the meat also had that perfect gaminess which provides a complexity of taste that raises it above the level of just another hunk of protein.

On the side, and possibly one of the most indulgent yet delicious accompaniments you are likely to get in any restaurant, anywhere, was a small cottage pie which had been made with an oh-so-rich mixture of Venison meat and its offal. Believe me if it was any better it would be illegal.

That cottage pie should have been enough to finish me off but despite my advancing years I’m still an Hermano and somewhere North of abstemiousness but South of piggery lay the Lime and Cheese Souffle. A lot of places can’t really make this dish but happily for me Corrigan’s have a master Souffle maker in residence. It was supermodel light with none of that claggy egginess that afflicts lesser specimens. A light marscapone sauce, which added a bit of richness, was poured into the centre. A small scoop of Marscapone ice cream and an extra one of Sauternes (well if you don’t ask, you don’t get) book ended the Souffle.

What else ? Well, there were some good nibbles beforehand of cheesy, crispy things and olives that had been stuffed with goat’s cheese, bread crumbed and deep-fried (how could I have forgotten). Wine is usefully available by the carafe (250 or 500ml) and the staff will happily doggy bag your PFs in foil if you’ve been a fat bastard diner. Oh, and I’m definitely going back.