A funny thing happened to me on my way to the theatre. For all of you younger readers, i.e. those under 60, that was the stock opening line for a lot of comedians in the last century. You obviously know by now that I am not a comedian, and this really did happen a few months ago.
I had been to review a play called Soil, which was part of the Yorkshire Fringe Festival, at The Attic on Sheaf Street. The venue is very small with only about a couple of dozen in the audience, in fact, having been there before and realising it was more for exposure than profit, I paid for the two tickets rather than apply for a press pass. The play was brilliant – scroll back through the site for my review – with only two actors, and a director, who was not there at the time. A couple of days later I was asked to review another piece in the Fringe, The Purple List, also only a scroll away from this post, at the New Headingley Club. It was an early afternoon performance so I thought I would treat myself to lunch at The Swine Bistro on Otley Road before I went. I used to love going to The Greedy Pig and The Swine That Dines on North Street, both earlier incarnations of this establishment, so I know the owners, Jo and Stuart. I have not been to this new place, which had opened over a year ago, and, on thinking back, It must have been well over a couple of years before that since I went to the original site, possibly around Covid time. Where does time go? Imagine my surprise when I walked into the bistro to be greeted by Jo with the words, ‘We were just talking about you!’ Because Soil was done on a shoestring, those concerned have other jobs to make ends meet, the Director, Meg De Bell, who I have never met, works at The Swine and was in the middle of telling Jo about my review as I arrived.
Many years ago when I was merely middle aged, we were talking about restaurants at work, speculating on what kind we would like to open ourselves. There were the usual Indian, Chinese, Mexican, etc, but I said that the menu outside my gaff, there was no internet in those days, would say ‘Whatever I fancy cooking for you today’. Obviously, nothing ever came of it and I doubt that in those days it would have done well enough to last a week, but that is more or less the philosophy at The Swine, and it works a treat. They naturally word their menu far more eloquently than I would have done, but the food they prepare is dependent on the season and availability. See https://theswinebistro.co.uk
The restaurant is on a different level to the old one, having a chic, character laden interior and an open kitchen, the last one was in the basement. After a catch-up I took my seat and perused the menu. I couldn’t have been happier than to see the culture hadn’t changed and there was only one starter and dessert, with two main courses.
I ordered my drink, reluctantly eschewing the tea and white wine for a Montepulciano. This is one of my favourites and, although the name covers a multitude of sins, it was very smooth and perfect for the food.
Needing to stay awake later at the play, I stuck to two courses, the starter, which was terrific, a kind of upmarket ploughman’s lunch, sorry Stuart, and the main.
I rather think I did the right thing in not adding the cheese, as the portion was generous with the slab of terrine wonderful. It was packed with chicken and a few added capers to give it some oomph. The Potato Bread was light as a feather and the array of pickles very imaginative, exactly what I expected, no dollop of Branston here. I not only enjoyed the taste of the Cultured Butter, but also the deep philosophical discussion I had with it, until I realised I was well out of my depth, so spread it on the roll.
From Posh Ploughman’s to Bourgeoise Burger, I might never be served here again!
A Beef Hache is as much like a burger as a Ferrari is a Ford Fiesta. The meat is coarsely chopped rather than minced so that it has a more pleasant texture and a consistency helping the heat to permeate the dish due to it not being so tightly packed. It is traditionally slow cooked like a stew, which accounts for the succulence and the sauce which surrounds it. This had the addition of Peppercorn Sauce and the result was rich, complicated and stunning. As you can see, I added the egg option, which was just how an egg should be fried, slightly crispy round the white, but the yolk still runny. Similarly, the Koffman Fries, which are triple cooked to give a crisp outside and soft centre, were bang on.
All that was left was to have a black coffee to pass the time until I set off for the play, and to sit reflecting on a great lunch whilst congratulating myself on not having followed through on my culinary ambition. I could never have approached anything like this standard of excellence.
I have also repaid the complement bestowed on me by Jo, in that I have been talking about this meal ever since I had it.
Full transparency. I had not booked, merely called on spec and I paid for the meal myself, so no conflict of interest.
Check out the website above for opening times and menus.
Photographs by Stan Graham
