Revisited Lounge
The Leeds Guide
15 : 11 : 2006
Ali Schofield encounters a long wine, massive fish and a whopping wedge of cheese
Lounge looks like a traditional
tavern in 17th century Stratford
Upon Avon (I say Stratford because
Shakespeare came from there and he’s
the only 17th century person I can
think of, but I assume the rest of
England also existed back then).
Thick, black beams, knobbly, plastered
walls and an open stove fire
would have you half expecting Samuel
Pepys (make that two) to be merrily
scribing away at the table next to
you if it weren’t for the Kaiser Chiefs
and Corinne Bailey Rae littered soundtrack.
Lounge was going through something
of a transition — though sadly
not of the time travel kind — when
my mum and I rocked up to sample
the fayre. The toilets were getting a
makeover and the restaurant area on
the first floor was being refitted, so
we found a snug corner in the bar and
set about deciding on a bottle of wine
from the cardboard menu on the table.
On noticing our undisguised desire for
a bit of the white stuff, the waitress
swiftly furnished us with leather bound
wine lists, resplendent with more
choice than the original. As reward
for her attentiveness, we ordered the
Tasman Bay sauvignon blanc (£21.50),
a very palatable tipple that proved long
enough to warm our cockles until the
starters came.
I lived up to my brothers’ childhood
taunts and went for the fattiest
vegetarian starter I could find; deep
fried crumbed brie (£4.70). Ma went
for the roasted tomato and red pepper
soup (£3.95). And so began the steady
stream of ‘mmm’s and ‘it’s-simple-butreally-good’s that left our lips between
mouthfuls of the kind of comfort food
your mother used to make (though not
mine as she was battling with a daughter
obsessed with deep fried cheese).
For the mains, mum chose the
chargrilled tuna steak (£11.50) while
I upgraded the risotto of wild mushrooms
starter to a main (£8.75). The
tuna steak came on a bed of potato
wedges with a poached egg perched
atop the massive piece of fish. The
risotto turned out to be similarly gargantuan
and, to my delight, boasted
some thick shavings of Italian cheese
scattered on top.
Throwing responsibility for our
arteries to the wind, we wound up
our feast with classic crème brulee for
mum and cheese of the day (what else)
for myself (both £4.50).
Blurry eyed from the non-driver’s
share of a strong bottle of wine, I failed
to notice that my pudding was not
pluralised and found myself outfaced
by a whopping wedge of stilton.
Well,
almost — a suitably rich end to a meal
fit for Charles II (that’s three then).
St John’s House, Merrion Street,
0113 244 4234
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