Hand and Shears, Church Hanborough

The portents weren't good.  A burnt-out motherboard put both money and time in short supply, and attempts at communication had proved fruitless.  With a pub with bad reviews our only Plan B (which clearly isn't a Plan B at all), the good lady, the little one, housemate and I drove towards Church Hanborough with a sense of fate being very much in the balance.

Still, with parking space right in front of the pub our hopes rose, and indeed luck was on our side.  The telephone fault that had prevented us booking had prevented others too, so provided we could pay in cash (and we could) lunch was on.

The Hand and Shears was, I imagine, once a snug little public house, but is now transformed.  The pub expands into a spacious dining room, set mostly under the ancient beams of a converted barn.  It felt like an exclusive lunch club, and one where we weren't necessarily the best deported guests.  Still, the price was acceptable (a penny short of a tenner), so the good lady and the housemate plumped for the beef, and the little one and I for the pork.

And so it arrived, looking every inch the gastro pub lunch, and oh. my. god.  First on my tastebuds was the gravy.  Fruity sweet gravy, heavy and generous.  Then the potatoes.  Oh wow.  So fluffy, yet crispy, exactly as the perfect roasty should be.  The pork was succulent, finely sliced, beautiful.  The crackling was even crackly.

We swiftly came to the conclusion that we had stumbled on something special here.  Exclusively locally sourced, the Sunday lunch at the Hand and Shears sets a very high standard indeed.  Such was the quality that housemate quickly branched out into pudding, and the good lady rashly spake the words 'ice cream'.  If you know the little one, you'll know that you better deliver on words like that.  I had a tiny taste, and oh it was rich and creamy and Cornish.  The good lady and I shared the cheese board, and the cheeses were so good.  A glass of port accompanied raisin bread, and by the time we'd got through that I was in such a delirium of satisfaction I had to be prised off the ceiling.

 The little one wolfed her way through hers, putting her performance at previous pubs to shame.  She knows a good thing when she sees it.  Unfortunately the good temper that had taken her so far through the day fell away once the ice cream took effect, and suddenly she had way more energy than she knew what to do with.

A gentle walk downhill to a bluebell wood gave her what she needed, and the rest of us a bucolic coda to a gorgeous lunch.  Any down side?  Well, Charles Wells aren't the most adventurous brewers in the world, so a pint of Bombadier in even the best state isn't that great.  And the younger staff seemed short on customer skills, but it was the end of the session.  Perhaps they just didn't understand what a joy they have at their hands.

9/10.

Dave

The Railway Inn, Culham

The good lady and I decided to give the Railway Inn in Culham a try last week, encouraged by a free music festival, Wittstock, happening in the back garden.  Having been to a couple of similar events, I knew things could go either way, with a lot hinging on the atmosphere.

Imagine my delight then when we discovered this rather lovely throwback to a gentler time.  The pub doubles as a caravan park with one or two live-inn vehicles, and the whole thing has a bit of a rural seventies vibe, which isn't such a bad thing.  The marquee is more of a village hall - clean, spacious and very geared up for families.  I could imagine a barn dance here. 

As we entered we were surprised and thrilled to see our friend Michael playing violin onstage.  Once the set was over, he and his partner Jane joined us for lunch.

So what about the food?  Well thankfully this is no gastropub - we're talking no nonsense grub here.  The bar staff were friendly and arranged a small roast for the little one.  I had chicken, with the good lady going for her favourite, the lamb.  Without being flashy or particularly remarkable, the meal impressed me for its plain good taste and reasonable price.  It felt very much like home cooking, served with a friendly face, in unpretentious surroundings.  The little one even actually ate some, and from her that's a compliment indeed.

It's so great that, as some pubs are turning into variants of coffee chains in order to survive, places like the Railway Inn exist unmolested by free wifi and bagels.  Come when there's a few longhairs about and let the free times roll.

Thai Orchid, St Clements, Oxford

It's Sunday, it's wet and horrible, and Dave and Ally could do with a good roast.  However, it's past 12 when I start ringing round places, and EVERYTHING is booked up.  In desperation (not that it isn't a lovely place) I call the Port Mahon, who say it's first come first served, but upon arrival there's nothing.  The wind and rain are making it difficult to get the inspiration to go anywhere, so we opt for the nearest and most familiar option - the Thai Orchid all-you-can-eat Sunday Buffet.

If this phenomenon is new to any Oxford readers, you really are missing a treat.  Thai Orchid is, in my humble opinion, simply the best oriental restaurant in Oxford, and the breadth and range of their dishes is stunning.  There's hot and cold, sweet and sour, noodles and rice, and a big salmon if you're early enough!  The starters and sushi dishes confirm that Thai Orchid don't skimp on the finer options.

Unfortunately the little one absolutely refused to eat anything, despite encouraging coos from the Thai Orchid ladies (I don't know if it's their policy to engage with kids, but I'm glad they do).  You really feel welcomed here.  On the down side, the problem with eat-all-you-can buffets is that they bring out the less sophisticated diner in you.  Let's just leave it there. 

Another problem is that if, like me, you've given up desserts, walking past the stunning array of diabetes bait on the way out is a feeling close to losing a personal friend.  But for a bit of indulgence on a Sunday afternoon, The Thai Orchid buffet is hard to beat.

Dave

Skillets at the Crown and Thistle, Abingdon

After a hearty swim on Easter Sunday, we found ourselves in great hunger and I asked the good lady what she knew of in Abingdon.  She reminded me of the Crown and Thistle, so it was there we ended up just after 12pm, and found ourselves in Skillets, their new separate restaurant.

It might have been because we were the first punters there, but the welcome at Skillets was excellent.  It being Easter, they were keen to press all manner of chocolate into the palm of the little one (who's not allowed that sort of thing yet).  The Sunday Lunch was a carvery, and the good lady and I both opted for the lamb.  The slices were nice and thick, and we were able to load up our plates as much as their dimensions would allow.

We were informed that we could have any ale available in the pub, not just the one on tap in Skillets, so I opted for something light and golden and blow me down if I haven't forgotten the name of it, something like Sunburst.  Anyway, it was gorgeous.  As is my way when stirred by excellent service, good food and a fine ale, a warm glow descended over me, although when the little one decided to spread brocolli over the floor my reverie came to an abrupt end.  Still, for just short of 9 quid this was a fine choice indeed, and the restaurant has just that level of smartness that you could take your mum and dad there, but don't feel too out of place in jeans and T-shirt.  8/10.

Dave