the Dower House review

Mark Taylor enjoys a night of luxury at The Dower House

After visiting so many restaurants with the annoyingly ‘on trend’ look of upcycled materials, uncomfortable junk shop chairs and enamel lamps that should have stayed in the 1950s’ eastern Bloc factories they came from, it was time for a bit of luxury. When it comes to grandeur, it doesn’t get much more opulent than arriving at the royal Crescent Hotel, walking through the airy reception area to the secluded gardens, and grabbing one of the outdoor tables beneath the taittinger Champagne umbrellas for predinner drinks. As I sipped my cocktail, immaculate hotel guests in white dressing gowns walked - actually, they glided - to and from the spa next to the restaurant. even the well-groomed squirrels looking for nuts and crumbs beneath tables looked straight out of central casting for Squirrel Nutkin The Movie - these must be the happiest and best-fed rodents in the West Country. On a warm summer’s evening with only the sound of birdsong, clinking glasses and the distant shaking of ice coming from the bar, it’s a tranquil experience and a world away from the tourist-choked streets of Bath city centre. Grade I-listed and built by Georgian architect John Wood the Younger, the hotel is formed out of several Bath stonebuilt houses in the centre of the worldfamous crescent. Past guests have apparently included the rolling Stones, U2 and Johnny Depp and, yes, you need pockets of a serious depth if you are to stay here or have dinner in the Dower House restaurant in the former coach house and stables. At a set price of £72 for three courses (or £59 for two), and with a 22-page wine list that starts at £28 and tops out at over £2,000 a bottle, this is an exclusive experience. Put it this way; I didn’t see any window stickers saying they accept luncheon vouchers. On a Wednesday evening, the restaurant was doing a brisk trade, mostly with birthday/anniversary-celebrating locals and American hotel guests still talking about the royal wedding. With its mushroomy walls, powder blue drapes, thick carpet and discreet jazz in the background, the restaurant itself is pretty subdued and doesn’t quite prepare you for the vibrant, technicolour food of talented head chef David Campbell. After a couple of decent appetisers and excellent warm bread accompanied by farmhouse butter the colour of a Wisden Almanack, roasted scallops with heritage tomatoes, smoked pepper ketchup, smoked eel, saffron and marjoram was a riot of colours and harmonious flavours and textures. the four scallops were precisely cooked with a golden crust and the micro herbs, tiny lozenges of smoked eel and smoky ketchup all played their part, as did the slow-roasted heritage tomatoes, which had more flavour than any tomatoes I can recall. I make no apologies for ordering english rose veal for the second time in a week. Good quality local veal is a rarity that has be grabbed whenever it’s on a menu. Here, the slices of fillet had the gentle pink blush of an english rose and appeared alongside a creamy-textured sweetbread, a slice of full-flavoured tongue, pieces of roasted globe artichoke, asparagus, a buttery disc of confit potato and dots of bosky mushroom purée. the quality of the cooking continued through to the final hurdle. A dessert of caramelised pear tart teamed with iced star anise parfait and a glass-like shard of pear crisp was a winning combination, the fruity sweetness of the soft pear balanced by the gentle spiciness of the parfait. With drinks and service, the bill for one person can soon pierce the £100 mark, and that’s when showing restraint. that’s a lot of money for a meal whichever way you look at it, but, yes, I would pay it again and there are a lot of people who can and do. this was top flight cooking in the grandest of settings and such indulgence will, I’m afraid, always come at a price.