The Blaise Inn, Henbury: 'You rarely hear of fatal cockapoodle attacks, so it’s no imposition'
Philip Sweeney joins a crowd of cockapoodles for dinner at one of Bristol's best pubs
Happy Sunday Saucers.
Our Sauce community is now 700 strong - a fact I find utterly delightful and somewhat surprising, given how little time I have put into marketing it. I am endeavouring to follow the example set by my journalist peers in the north at the Manchester Mill and to the east at Vittles. Both produce exemplary independent journalism; writing that sells itself. I think it’s far more important to publish writing with consistent integrity and creativity than anything else - and I hope people will want to support that. So far, it seems, you do. I am incredibly grateful, thank you.
I’d like to remind you that my proverbial door is always open. If you’ve eaten something fantastic or despicable, you’ve heard a rumour you can’t bear to keep secret or you have a burning question - please do get in touch. You can reply to this email, message The Bristol Sauce on Instagram or email me directly at meghoughtongilmour@gmail.com. Say hello!
Despite this micro-publication still making a loss, I am keen to hear ideas for pieces of writing too (all of which will be paid for - albeit not very much, yet). If you have an opinion, a review you’d like to write, or something else entirely - as long as it’s related to food or drink in Bristol, I’d love to hear it. I’m particularly keen to hear from writers who are underrepresented in journalism, such as those who live with a disability, have experienced racism or would describe themselves as working-class.
Now - onto another excellent review by Phil Sweeney. This one really put a smile on my face.
~ Meg
Once upon a time, before the Michelin Guide went digital and got into the rich pickings of global tourist board sponsorship, its rice-paper-thin pages used to award, in addition to the famous stars, red ‘M’ symbols that denoted simpler cooking of a high standard at a good price.
The red M reliably marked out the best traditional auberges and restaurants, the sort of places middle-aged French would describe in those days as correct; their highest gastronomic compliment. The symbol eventually transmuted into the Bib Gourmand - the same idea but more eclectic. Of the seventeen Bristol restaurants in the current British Michelin Guide, nine are Bib Gourmands. Of those, The Blaise Inn is the place most evocative of the classic old school red M era.
Situated between the lovely hidden enclave of the ancient church of Saint Mary and the high rises and new grey Legolands obliterating the fields by Cribbs Causeway, the Blaise is a handsome Georgian coaching inn. Decades ago, it was a rough old neighbourhood cider pub, more likely to feature in the Henbury police station incidents book than the Michelin Guide. Refurbished by Louise McCrimmon, former head chef at Harvey Nicholls restaurants in Bristol and Leeds, it’s now a buzzing community pub and restaurant that any district in the country would be delighted to have as a neighbour.
On a weekend evening, the bar is packed with locals, most of whom seem to know each other, and their dogs, ditto. Actually, the one modification I might consider would be hitching posts outside for cockapoodles, but the Blaise welcomes the little blighters. You rarely hear of fatal cockapoodle attacks, so it’s no imposition. Well designed, the restaurant area is separate, but connected to the bar room by a sizeable open entranceway, so you can eat in peace no matter how much yapping and whining there may be in the bar - from the drinkers, I mean; the dogs are mostly pretty tight-lipped – while still feeling part of the overall hum of amiable activity.
The décor and service are both archetypal vieille garde Michelin. Plain, pleasant, discreet, unshowy. Efficient. Key question: do the servers constantly maintain an eye on all the tables, ready to react if needed, or do they wander around looking vaguely in no particular direction? The former, of course.
Was there something else? Oh yes, the food. Same story, basically. The Blaise’s menu fits the overall pattern of neat unassuming expertise. It’s roughly what used to be called Modern British featuring, in this case, interesting French flourishes. It’s a logical product of Louise McCrimmon’s background, which started in Leith’s London cooking school: the compendious and authoritative 1990s Prue Leith Bible, containing a wealth of European dishes, is still one of her key source books.
McCrimmon’s first job was cook on cruise boats on the river Yonne. Burgundian influence crops up in delightful surprises such as oeufs meurette (£8), the region’s classic starter of poached eggs in a reduced sauce of bacon, onions, mushrooms, butter and red wine. Or peripherally in another starter of rich devilled kidneys (£9), its resemblance to Dijon kidneys in mustard underlined by a slice of toasted brioche instead of bread, Or, more generically French, a salad of Morteau sausage, with a runny egg, lentils and frisee lettuce (£8), a version of the great bistro favourite salade frisee aux lardons. All dishes not easily found on modern UK menus, alas.
Main courses include a tasty onglet steak with good chips and piquant salsa verde (£22) and a bacon chop - an unusual cut - with sweet potato rösti and a frisky pineapple and chilli sauce (£19). The fish is excellent, too, for a non specialist fish restaurant, recently a superb plump wing of skate (£23) with capers in seaweed butter, garnished with straw potatoes and most discreetly impressive touch of all, a small salad of fresh, no, make that dew-fresh, watercress in a perfectly light and subtle vinaigrette dressing.
As for desserts - trad British is strongly in there, primarily in the form of a voluminous apple crumble (£8). In fact, it’s pushing my luck to say this having already slagged off cockapoodles, but I have a thing against crumbles, even ones sanctioned by Prue Leith. The fact the French have gone bonkers on crumbles makes no difference, they have on muffins too. And bagels. Whatever, the Blaise patisserie department is above minor prejudices like this, and has plenty of excellent alternatives. For example, a magnificent steamed chocolate pudding full of Guinness, prune and walnut with a terrific hot chocolate sauce (£8).
In France where Michelin is still a very big deal, the Bib Gourmand is increasingly sought after by numbers of young restaurateurs who prefer the distinction to the more showbizzy star ranking. Ironically, the category has just been given its own awards ceremony. If only Michelin would go retro and bring back the red M, The Blaise Inn would really be in its element.
All words and photos by Philip Sweeney
The Blaise Inn, 260 Henbury Road, BS10 7QR
Read more by Philip Sweeney:
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According to his biography on Muckrack, Philip Sweeney is is a writer, journalist and broadcaster on international culture, society, travel, and food. His work has appeared in publications including the Independent, for whom he was world music correspondent for fifteen years, The Guardian, The Observer, The Telegraph, Economist Intelligent Life, magazin…
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