Shropshire Magazine

Diners are given plenty of elbow room at The Roebuck.

For nigh on a decade, the market town of Ludlow has been a fixture of British haute cuisine. With the oft-quoted statistic of having more Michelin stars for its population than anywhere in the world outside Paris, it shone like a beacon to gastronomes from Shropshire to London – an enlightened few of whom are now aware that there are restaurants, indeed a nation, north of Islington.

But times change. Sean Hill moved on, Hisbiscus swapped Corve Street for Mayfair, and Ludlow lost a little of its lustre. Yet with such changes come new opportunities, and it is perhaps due to the departure of those beloved Michelin stars that such delights as The Roebuck at Brimfield need no longer labour under the shadows those stars once cast.

Pan-fried scallops with beetroot reduction.

A 15th-century inn situated conveniently close to the Ludlow bypass, The Roebuck has seen some considerable changes since the arrival of chef and landlord Olivier Bossut for, make no mistake, this is no gastropub try-hard. It has been carefully appointed throughout, from its low-slung bar (the chairs practically scrape the ground, but in a good way), through to its vibrantly hued dining room (this jury is still out on the colour scheme, but it is spacious and comfortable).

Indeed, on the subject of space, one of my chief gripes about many restaurants is how many covers the owner has squeezed into an area roughly equivalent to a Jacob’s cracker. No such complaints here, where the tables are large, and there was even room for the ego of the interminable bore in the corner.

Fillet of beef Wellington, wild mushroom duxcelle and Madeira sauce.

Fortunately I was spared from our verbose friend by the welcome distraction of the food. I started with roast asparagus wrapped in Parma ham and served with a poached egg. I am very, very particular about poached eggs, and it was with great delight that I saw this one slide off its bed of asparagus at the merest touch of my fork, and run golden yellow at the first piercing of my knife. This egg was done to perfection – creamy, soft and warm – yet it was the mere forerunner of what was the most succulent asparagus I have eaten in years. It had been roasted to perfection, without losing any of its texture or moisture as roast asparagus is apt to do.

Call me a traditionalist, but great food does not require a Cavalli dress and Tiffany earrings to look good. I can’t help but feel that the more a plate is messed with – foams, zests and droppings of truffle sprinkled here, there and everywhere – the more its creator is trying to hypnotise you into believing in their genius. Great food simply means the best ingredients cooked flawlessly and delivered with enough panache to excite, but without the necessity of an instruction manual to unravel. On this count, Bossut scores highly; his food is unpretentious, perfectly presented and delicious.

Next up was an open fillet of beef Wellington. When paying £22.50 for a main course in rural Shropshire, beef Wellington or not, I feel that a punter is entitled to expect every penny of their money’s worth. Yet truth be told, so mouth-watering was this Olympian chunk of succulent beef that I would happily have paid more. It was far and away the most expensive dish on the menu (most of the mains are very reasonable at around £14–£17), but I doubt it was made for much less than was asked, given the epic quantity of meat and the divine, ebony-hued mushroom duxcelle that it was served with.

Tender

Fine apple tart with cinnamon ice-cream.

A Madeira sauce greased the wheels, so to speak, though nothing was needed to moisten the pastry, which fell apart under the knife. Beef Wellington, especially with a slice of meat that thick, is not easy to do properly. I say properly rather than well, because as anyone with a taste bud knows, beef of any kind should be not so much cooked as dragged through a warm room. I can forgive a half centimetre of browned meat before the succulent pink of the middle for a big piece like this, but in this case I would have struggled to measure, so tender was the cut from top to bottom.

My companions for the evening were equally impressed, with the scallops in a beetroot reduction particularly lauded. I managed to engineer one onto my own plate and found it soft, buttery and perfectly complemented by the reduction, which took the edge off the beetroot nicely. Also enjoyed was the belly pork, served with mash and a port reduction, which, judging by a plate so clean it appeared to be sanitised, I am led to believe was the equal of my beef.

After such decadence pudding was a lighter affair. Managing to tear myself away from the chocolate-heavy delights on offer, I opted for the poached pear and homemade ice-cream. It was soft, juicy and light and cleansed the palate perfectly.

Bossut has a clear and incisive talent for pitching his food; the portions are ideal, the presentation is perfect, and the price is exactly what it should be. A word must also be said of the service, which was friendly, efficient and charming without being oppressive. Something about the habits of those curious phantoms at the Michelin Guide suggests to me that The Roebuck won’t be gaining their most prized recognition in 2009, but stars have been awarded for less.

• The Roebuck, Brimfield, Ludlow. Telephone 01584 711230. www.theroebuckinnludlow.co.uk

REVIEW: ALEX WALTERS

PICTURES: MIKE HAYWARD

The Roebuck, Brimfield