Eating out in Lytham St Annes

There's a great series of promotional films from the late 1970s featuring Telly Savalas professing his love for some unlikely places... "So long Aberdeen and here's looking at you". Though it's suspiciously short of any footage of Kojak actually in the Granite City. I'm not sure Lytham St Annes would have been Telly's sort of town. Actually, it's two towns that roll into each other and they're more Des O'Conner's sort of towns.

You wouldn't be surprised to bump into 'Little and Large' in the local Booths supermarket or 'Keith Harris and Orvil' having a quickie in the pier toilets. It's a place that has everything old entertainers like: sea, fancy golf course, Blackpool next door and best of all, lots of people old enough to remember who you are.

If you should find yourself in Lytham and can remember that you haven't had your tea, you'd do well to head to Portofino. Our very kind friends, and Lytham locals, Colin and Sarah took us.

It's bustling and Italianesque with some Portugese leanings. Good competent cooking, generous 'northern' portions and some decent bottles on the list.

Picks for me were steamed clams 'Portugese': palourdes clams, with loads of garlic and olive oil. Delicious. Seafood linguine with a lovely shellfish flavour and rabbit in a sweetish sauce tasting of burnt sugar, in a nice way.

Drank a perfectly mature bottle of Italian Morellino with the mains.

Here's looking at you Lytham. But just in case you fancy somewhere else, might I be so bold as to suggest...

Click here for Portofino's website

Crabshakk

Crabshakk's a great little place. New England meets New York via the Isle of Lewis in Glasgow. On my first visit here, my dinner dates were very late and we were all going onto a Fashion Show. By the time they arrived, I was making good progress through a bottle of white wine. Ambitiously they ordered another. After wolfing down lobster and chips, most of the next bottle was still left... and we had to go. What's a chap to do? To spare the ladies embarrassment I tried my best. In hindsight, consuming a bottle of white wine in minutes is not big and it's not clever. It hit me about half way there in the taxi, as we pulled up outside the Art School I couldn't have told you my name. I was flying.

So I've been itching to come back for a proper paced sit down meal ever since. Then last night the opportunity presented itself, in a rather bizarre way. Grith, pronounced 'grit', over on a visit from Denmark, picked this up in Oddbins after going berserker in T.K.Maxx.

All raspberries and orange blossom. A few years back, passing through Gigondas, I noticed it reeked of orange blossom. The town actually smelt of it's wine. Weird. This was a good bottle, still young, with the unmistakable taste of the soil. Yes, Grith's wine was gritty. Nice. But beware Vikings bearing gifts. From some sort of Blackberry contraption this emerged.

A reminder of my great prowess at prediction and gambling.

No getting out of that, so I offered to buy lunch at Crab Shakk in settlement!

The wine list is short and quickly gets pricey. This was the cheapest bottle on the list and did the trick.

I can go for years without eating an oyster then suddenly crave them like nothing else on earth will do. At the moment it's intense. Oysters and me are having one hell of an affair. I can't get enough of them. They're always on my mind, when will I next see them, taste them, have them? "Maintenant" they whisper in my ear.....

God that was good. The girls had squid tempura and crab cakes. Both excellent. Light crunchy batter, tender squid and small but intense cakes full of crab meat.

Next up we ordered whitebait, fish club sandwich and sardines on toast.

A few Sundays ago perched at the bar here, eating oysters of course, there was some confusion as to what whitebait actually is? Rarely over £7 a kilo's the answer, so frankly this was a measly portion. They were good, as good as baby herrings and sprats get, just wish there were more. Nothing scrimpy about the fish club sandwich.

A triple decker of hot and cold smoked salmon, crab and pollock. With very nice fries on the side. Happy Viking.

"Wait a minute....you're not a sardine!"

Chef dropped one of only three sardines left and gave me this langoustine in compensation. It was delicious. Succulent, sweet, perfectly cooked. The sardines were spot on too. I love sardines but I'm not allowed to cook them anymore. Something to do with everything smelling of fish for a week afterwards...which, in fairness, it did.

Panna cottas for desert. Very correct but not quite sweet enough for me. The coffee was great. Good attention to detail. Nothing tarnishes the memory of a good meal so swift as shit espresso.

So that's Crabshakk. The best bet I ever lost. Angela, front of house, is impressive. It's cramped but that just adds to the buzz. And, whitebait gripes aside, the prices are frankly incredible for fresh Scottish seafood.

Go, go, go. But please leave a space at the bar, just big enough for one man and his current obsession... I'm missing the little iodine scented rascals already.

Crabshakk, (NOT: Crab Shakk or Crab Shack).

1114 Argyle Street,

Finnieston

Glasgow

0141 334 6127

click here for their website

click here for Jay Raynor's review in The Observer

click here for the surprising success story that is Stoats porridge bars

Inn at the Deep End

Some things do exactly what they say on the packet. I'd always presumed that was the case with this place, so was surprised when friends suggested dinner here on Friday. Awe, poor things, they've had a funny turn, best play along though... one toasty or two I wondered?

It's a beautiful building and maintains a lot of it's original Victorian interior upstairs, the restaurant however, is below...

Inside, away from the whiff of chlorine, the decor's reminiscent of Brittany Ferries circa 1995. Not too hopeful, we ordered some cocktails. They were made with care and tasted good, no mean feat in Glasgow. Even better, the pricing was contemporary with the decor, £3.95 each! Then the menus arrived...

Again, at this price, I'm happy if it's edible. It was. Very.

Scallops with chorizo. Both very nice, but not really a match, the chorizo was too spicy.

Mussels were plump and fresh. It wasn't mariniere as billed, but a cream rich sauce. Good all the same.

The waitress was great and used to work at the Chardon d'Or on West Regent Street.

For mains we had a lovely piece of halibut, a huge, very tasty fillet steak and delicious lamb chops. All at prices that were hard to comprehend. Not flash, but good competent cooking.

We had the two most expensive wines on the list for £16 a bottle. A Chablis 2007 from Brocard. Lovely- bracing, minerally and I'm sure my teeth are whiter today. And this rather good Montagne St Emilion...

Clubs often need to look at new ways to generate income. Apparently this restaurant's part of the Western's strategy to do just that. It is great value but the numbers just can't add up, I was about to say go quickly before they do... however, there's a problem. I've just called to check and you need a member to sign you in to eat. How absurd is that? It explains why there was just one other table there on a Friday night.

If they ever open this eatery to the riff-raff then go. If they don't, it'll be gone before the autumn. Restaurants with more staff than customers do not survive. Especially when they're serving top quality ingredients at mid 90s prices.

The Western Baths Club

8-12 Cranworth Street,

Glasgow

G12

0141 576 0294

Onto a Winner

Manchester's sadly defunk Sunset Radio featured, among many characters, one DJ with a thick Jamaican accent and a penchant for Dub. Occasionally caught short after over indulging between records he'd splutter out the immortal catch phrase, "If it's nice, play it twice", then pop the needle back to the start!

If he hasn't gone the way of his old station that DJ would enjoy this bit of Italy. Liguria's very laid back and down the narrower medieval streets the air's often thick with his favourite herb. When the hunger kicks in there's quality pizzerias, masses of respectable trattoria and, if royalties from a remix ever materialise, there's Ristorante Apricale Da Delio.

It's hard to believe somewhere like this survives in a village whose permanent population struggles to reach 500. But the last 2 kilometers aside, it's very well connected. Ventimiglia, San Remo and Imperia are a short drive. Monaco and Nice are not much further. Add to that a growing reputation and it's connectivity is not without risks...

Yes, MW dined at Da Delio in 2005 declaring one dish "terrific". On the Winner scale I reckon that's just below "historic". Amusingly, next to the original review they've stuck this Italian article explaining exactly who Michael Winner is. A shame my Italian's so poor because I'm rather curious myself.

Front of house Daniel, son of chef Da Delio, recommended a delicious white from the local pigato grape. A real cracker, Mauro Feola's 'O Mai Ben' 2007 had similarities with Albarino but more gentle aromatics.

Perhaps egged on by the wine's refreshing lemony bite we decided to go for the full Italian... then the antipasti arrived. These were big appetisers.

What the menu called warm potato and poricini 'made like lasagne'. This was really good. Like a light potato dauphinois infused with scents of the forest floor.

'Rombiole et Tomini', fresh Piemonte cheese wrapped in leaves, vine I think, with pears layered between white bread. This was sublime. The warm melting cheese cloaking the cold terrine.

Primi piatti next.

Rabbit ravioli in a rabbit sauce scented with thyme. One of their 'signature' dishes. Perfectly executed, the ravioli filling had an almost bovril like intensity.

And luigini d'oro with spring garden vegetables. Pasta disks made without egg. Tasty alright, but bound by a tomato sauce that didn't really hold it all together.

Time for some red wine. Chef Da Delio was out front now too. This is an 'all hands on deck' family run place and service was a little stretched at times, but when it's so warm and friendly, who cares?

Picking up on our obsession with all things local he recommended 'Maccario Dringenburg's Rossese di Dolceacqua Superiore 2007' saying it best combined 'the old with the new'.

Splendid stuff, light colour belying it's strength with a lovely balance of fruit and acidity. Reminiscent of Burgundy and Barolo, like Barolo, I find a scent of roses in many rossese wines. But it maybe the name playing tricks with my palate.

Alas, no room in the stomach for young goat stewed with white beans from Pigna, a little town just up the road, so went for the olive wood grill options.

Wow. Fassone beef, another import from Piedmonte. Incredible, the texture of tuna loin with an understated beefy flavour and great minerality. You could taste the iron.

Lamb chops, pink and sweetly caramelised. Both dishes accompanied by unassuming looking potatoes. They tasted divine... infused with local olive oil, a hint of rosemary and smoke from that olive wood grill. We shared a desert and aided our digestion with a huge glass of incredibly smooth Pigato Grappa. They're obsessed with digestion in Liguria... can't imagine why!

It wasn't hard to decide where to go for our last night... "If it's nice, eat there twice".

This time, among yet more delicious plates, lurked one of the best pasta dishes I've eaten. Up there with those of Franco Taruschio when he still had The Walnut Tree. Made from spelt flour it came with potato, French bean, the dreaded sun dried tomato and a pesto that hadn't been pounded. Deconstructed if you must.

It was beguiling, each taste perfectly complimenting and balancing the other, to create a new whole. Truly historic...

Ristorante Apricale Da Delio

Plazza Vittorio Veneto, 9

18030 Apricale (Imperia)

+39 0184 208 008

35 Euros for anti, primi and secondi. Prices include cover and service. For cooking of this quality a real bargain! Nice wine list too. Good selection of local Rossese, Pigato and Vermentino with very reasonable mark-ups. How refreshing!

Read some chap called Michael Winner's review here

And here's a translated interview with Mauri Feola, winemaker at Specchiodivitae