Blackfriars Restaurant review
THE ANTICIPATION
Expectation does funny things. Whether it’s of a pub, restaurant or a relationship – if you set the bar too high, the effects can be terminal.
I learned this the hard way when I turned 30 – after months of panic it arrived and hit me like a hammer blow. But, for better or worse, this life lesson, of the need to accept things as they come, is still something of a work in progress.
One thing I have managed to learn as this landmark year finally disintegrates is to appreciate the finer things, which is how we came to book Blackfriars.
THE RESTAURANT
Set in a former friary refectory you expect to be impressed and, for the most part, the setting delivers. The exposed beams and low ceilings avoid creating a sense of doom but do create something bordering on outdated.
Blackfriars is at the higher end of Newcastle’s restaurant scene but manages to feel infinitely more for- mal than House of Tides, Peace and Loaf and even 21, leading to a lack of any real atmosphere. This – coupled with scatter gun service – does take away from the quality of the food.
THE FOOD
There is a reason for high expectations and, on the most basic front, Blackfriars delivers.
I went for the wood pigeon with duck’s liver, while she went for the hand-dived scallops with pig’s cheeks (both £13). If I have been slow to learn some of life’s lessons I have at least picked up my dining companion’s love of seafood – so much so that when
we carry out the obligatory swap I take the tiniest of bites, fibbing as I say I’m content with my crumb of the delicious creamy, saline scallop.
The pigeon is so finely balanced you’d think it was a dove from heaven rather than a rat with wings. So far, the first round delivers. All is well.
But like all things with potential it wasn’t to last. With expectations so far met, we soon realised we had been served by around four staff members in a five-minute window, with few of them seemingly aware of repeating their colleagues.
Now, in my trade, repetition – at least while carrying out the thrust of the job – is no bad thing but, when you’re repeatedly asked if things are to your liking, you can soon start to wonder if they are.
Our mains soon put things back on track – duck breast (£21) for her, and monkfish with ox cheek (£19) for myself. The monkfish was perhaps a little mean spirited with a relatively small morsel – the only issue with portion size all night. It was accompanied by a large chunk of (much cheaper) ox cheek that offered a depth and moisture I wasn’t expecting at this stage of the evening.
The accompanying beans and shavings added some heft but, ultimately, the dish was a little disappointing – or at least compared to what she had.
Much to my pain, the duck was the stronger option. Perfectly pink and the pan-fried skin brought a crisp, salty contrast to the meat’s succulence, served with a well-balanced sauce.
WELL…
The trouble with Blackfriars was not the food. In fact, the food was almost faultless – something head chef Chris Wardale can be proud of. A superb kitchen, and menu is troubled by how it is delivered to the diner.
A consistency among the serving staff, a warm smile and altogether smoother delivery would be an absolute game-changer.
As someone who struggles with these issues day to day – that it is not the content but the delivery – I feel well-placed to offer such advice, even when it is unasked for.
If Blackfriars can step this up nothing will stop them – the moon is theirs.
But until then it comes so close but just doesn’t manage to work like it should.