Who would’ve thought peas and rice could taste so good?
How can carrots be so sweet?
Can I live here?
These are genuine questions myself and my husband asked each other while dining at Sticky Walnut a couple of weeks ago.
The menu at Sticky Walnut in Chester, chef Gary Usher’s first location in the north, had sounded slightly more appealing to me than that of the much-closer-to-home Hispi, so off we hopped on a train.
After taking our seats in the small dining room and ordering up a deliciously creamy bottle of Torrontes, we immediately regretted our decision of not having taken the waitress up on her offer of a plate of focaccia to share while we perused the menu.
I saw it getting placed on the kitchen pass. I spotted its fluffiness and height. I had to have it.
Chewy, with a crispy exterior and the perfect combination of rosemary and sea salt, it was like a heavenly mouthful of dough. If this had been an episode of GBBO, Paul Hollywood would’ve been shaking the chef’s hand for the sponge-like texture of the crumb.
If ever a plate of bread had signalled the start of a fantastic meal, this was it.
Next up: two portions of grilled mackerel with burnt apple, labneh, za’atar, cucumber and dill.
Actual words that came out of my husband’s mouth while we were eating this included: “I’ve never eaten anything grey-coloured that tasted this delicious before.”
The dish was dainty, but bursting with flavour. Don’t ask me exactly which component was which (I was a couple of glasses into the Torrontes by this point) – all I can tell you is that the labneh was like velvet and the mackerel cooked to perfection.
Rather unimaginatively, we both ordered the same main course, too, worried as we were that one of us might get food envy with different dishes. It was the pea risotto with burrata, pickled kohlrabi and roast hazelnuts, with a couple of side orders of truffle & parmesan fries and honey-roasted carrots.
I was quickly coming to realise that the chefs at Sticky Walnut have the perfect knack of making ingredients which may otherwise look unappealing (refer to the note about the grey sauce above) actually appear beautiful.
Delicate curls of vinegary kohlrabi cut through the cheesiness of the risotto; a dish which had a similar appearance to mushy peas. The risotto was truly Italian in style, in that the rice was cooked with a slight bite but with a wonderful lustrous flavour that can only be achieved through the addition of plenty of butter and parmesan. The occasional crunch from the hazelnuts was like an unexpected present, handed to you when you least expect it.
And as you’ve probably already gathered from the opening lines of this post, the sounds we made while devouring the oh-so-sweet carrots were at some times ungodly.
So there it was: the side dishes, which at even the most fancy of restaurants you can forgive for being slightly mediocre, were heavenly.
It was at this point that I was starting to get concerned about dessert. Surely we weren’t going to score a hat-trick with this meal (I wasn’t counting the hastily-devoured focaccia as a course). Something was bound to go wrong….wasn’t it?
Enter the Jamaica cake, with butterscotch and clotted cream.
Elevating the humble Jamaica cake my Grandma would serve me during my childhood days to something sublime, this was like a crack on a plate to me (clotted cream has that effect on me though, unfortunately). I’m not sure I can ever go back. To anything. Ever.
The notes I made about the dish say: “tastes of burnt ginger and zestiness make this feel like a sticky toffee pudding sent into the stratosphere.” Not sure if that was the wine talking, but it was pretty damn correct.
Husband finally broke free of the shackles of food envy and ordered the black cardamom doughnuts with pistachio, peanuts, grilled pineapple and pineapple granita.
Somewhat unexpectedly, his favourite part of this dish was the zingy and refreshing pineapple granita; although that isn’t to say that every other component of the dish wasn’t sublime too. The lightly-fried doughnuts were soft and fluffy inside.
By now you’re probably thinking that we surely couldn’t squeeze in any more food and drink.
Well, you’d be wrong.
Coffee and homemade truffles all round while we contemplated the majesty of the meal we were already sorry had come to an end.
All I can say is wowza.
- 11 Charles Street, Hoole, Chester CH2 3AZ
- Open Mon to Sun 12pm – 2.30pm, Sun to Thurs 6pm – 9pm, Fri and Sat 6pm – 10pm
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