The English restaurant at the Bear is up a short staircase from the bar but they also use the outside area when weather permits, and it did when we dined there. While the Thai restaurant uses heavy log tables and benches (conjure up a vision of a Flintstones picnic table and you won’t be far wrong) the English has more refined wrought iron tables set on the lawn.
The menu is very extensive and imaginatively put together. It includes locally reared Lamb, Pigs trotters (!?) and a range of seafood that had the Blonde’s mouth watering (my wife is something of a Crustacean obsessive) including a lobster and prawn risotto and ‘hand dived’ scallops.
The entrees start at £16.50 and, with the starters coming in at £6.50; this is not a cheap night out. There is, however, a three course set menu for £15 and we opted for that, the thinking being that this would leave more in the pocket for brandy later. The set menu actually provides a choice of three starters and main courses anyway so this was no great hardship!!
The Blonde and I both started with liver and black pudding crostini. There’s a time and a place for offal and this certainly was it. This delicious dish safely buried memories of rubbery overcooked liver from school days and greasy, student-caff black pudding. I could live on this stuff and my only complaint would have to be about quantity.
After the beautiful starter our expectations were high, a little too high for the steak strips in pepper sauce. The dish was good, the steak was of fabulous quality (as you’d expect for a restaurant pitching towards the top end of the market) but there was the nagging suspicion that we could have had a good stab at producing it at home.
We washed it all down with a crisp Australian Semillon Chardonnay. The Blonde and I are normally red wine people and the meal would probably have been better accompanied with red but it was so hot in England that week that we couldn’t see past the word ‘chilled’ - apologies to connoisseurs everywhere.
Our fears for the staff of the Crazy Bear grew considerably during this meal. We’d already seen a chirpy barman get something of a tongue-lashing for failing to follow some obscure wine etiquette and then our German waitress dropped a piece of cutlery in the Blonde’s wine, knocking it all over the table. Her scared face and desperate plea of "Please don’t tell them it was me!" reminded the Blonde of her own waitressing days and solidarity with the fellow oppressed won the day. We very nearly broke though when we got a very sharp scowl from the maitre d’ and the sharp side of her tongue.
Both the Crazy Bear’s restaurants are fabulous but, if you were faced with the choice, I’d suggest opting for the Thai.