ALWAYS enjoyable, occasionally brilliant and bright yellow.
All three can be used to describe the hit TV show The Simpsons and its restaurant namesake.
Okay, maybe without that “bright yellow” bit.
As we were seated in the grand and airy dining room, we noticed that it lacked a little atmosphere when not bustling.
But the fairly tight menu (not necessarily a bad thing) had me intrigued. Each dish sounded interesting, but possibly included one or two too many ingredients.
For example, a starter was described as a hot smoked salmon and lime savoury cheesecake set on roast tomato and pepper coulis (£6.95).
Quite a mouthful, no?
Thankfully the mouthful we got settled my misgivings, as everything did actually work together beautifully.
The cheesecake was sharp and fresh, with a fantastic subtle yet smokey fish aftertaste.
A smooth ballantine of duck (£5.95) was offset beautifully with chewy, salty pancetta strips and the tangy ginger and plum coulis cut straight through the richness.
My venison main (there’s not enough space for its whole name) cost a princely £18.50, but it would have had Homer Simpson drooling. The beautifully tender meat was pink and full of flavour.
But then I spotted a small bugbear of mine, something that wasn’t advertised – balsamic vinegar. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, just not an arty squiggle with a smokey – but not overpowering – whisky jus, turnip and buttery, sweet white pudding croquette.
The vinegar found a much more reasonable home on my girlfriend’s feta cheese, sun-dried tomato and lentil loaf (£13.50).
The salty feta and sharp sun-dried tomato was balanced perfectly with plenty of sage, giving the loaf an almost stuffing feel. And a cauliflower and nutmeg puree was a fine accompaniment.
The chocolate and poached pear brulee dessert (£5.95) was an absolute delight. The first mouthful was thick and cloying, until a pearl of pear exploded in my mouth, washing away the stickiness, leaving me desperate for another mouthful. The mint shortbread it was served with was nothing short of inspired.
Overall, to really ram my metaphor home, the evening would have left Homer screaming “Woohoo!” rather than shouting: “D’oh!”