Oldfields - Durham

Oldfields
18 Claypath
Durham
DH1 1RH



My first night (ever) in Durham, ahead of a week-long stay. What lies ahead, I don't know. The people seem friendly, and I am yet to be mugged. I am away from A for longer than I would care to be, and stress levels are high, and all I want is a chunk of rare beef. Oldfields look good, and it had better deliver.



The menu is British, with touches such as bubble and squeak, rabbit, etc. Mostly, it's the usual chicken, fish, beef, et al. Promising, as this could be something to rival bistros in London. Well, that's the plan.


The menus are slick.



The place mat, well, a little tacky.



But all is forgiven when a bottle of Malbec arrives.



Salt and pepper: good. HP and ketchup? not something I want to see on the table when they claim to specialise in seafood.



Bread and butter are promptly served. And the service here really is friendly. The staff are young, but do not treat customers with a casual air, but neither is the atmosphere stuffy. Great.



Glass of wine, and I'm a happy camper. The Chamuyo is powerful and fills my palate - just how I like it. It should compliment my bloody steak well.



A bit of thumb twiddling. I have never eaten in a restaurant without company before. How odd. Lets take some photos of the decor.



Ok, gazing out the window done. Lets read the back of the wine bottle.



My starter arrives: oyster thermidor. Interesting concept, and they do boast about good seafood...



Yes, that's an almost identical shot: the cheese sauce looks leaden and I dread to even poke it.



But everything is better with bacon, right?



The poor oyster had been so smothered that it had lost all its original taste of the sea. Limp and cowering, it could barely be located.



The shell on the left is actually FULL of the cheesy gunk from both of the oysters. In a scene reminiscent of Mr Bean's efforts to conceal his unwanted steak tartar, I did not know how to indicate to my servers that I was done with my oysters. I could not stomach any more of the sauce, but had to move it to show that I was finished. How did I get myself into this situation?



Plastered a wall? you could have constructed the wall itself from this paste. Bland, gloppy, sticky and sickly, even the bacon totally failed to make it edible.



Sirloin and chips - can't go wrong, right?



Asking for it very rare, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the waitress knew the word 'bleu'. Doubtful of its execution, I would rather have my steak raw than brown all through.



The chips were at least as shiny as the Dalai Lama's forehead, and only failed to be more glistening due to the failing light.



The travesty of the evening turned out to be my pepper sauce, served separately in a neat little milk jug. No pepper (or indeed anything but cream) was harmed in the making of this sauce, and at most, the chef waved a bag of pepper from across the kitchen. Perhaps spices are still at medieval prices up here in the north.



The steak is surprisingly almost rare. The thinness (as in all restaurants) prohibits it from being terribly rare, but this was at least still pink: a success! The steak was very well done, but lacked flavour until I found the salt mill. I think it had been cooked sans any seasoning whatsoever. Properly salted the steak was very tasty - beefy and tender, and a delight to eat.



Hmm, lets have a go at that sauce. Oh crap, that's not sauce, he brought me a milk jug. Oh, wait, that is the sauce? Are you sure somebody hasn't just tipped cream into a dirty jug?



Inspired by a terrible meal salvaged by a decent piece of steak, I thought that I deserved more punishment and ordered a lemon cheesecake as dessert.



I have a sneaky suspicion that the cheesecake was made from the very same smegma that I had sent back in the first course. It was dense, bland and horrifyingly rich. There was probably a sale on double cream at Lidl, judging by this meal. Do NOT attempt to eat this dessert.

The damage: aside from a £18 bottle of wine, the rest was reasonable priced. Three courses plus wine (no water, because they didn't offer, and then refused to come near me) came to £53. With my handy Gourmet Society card, the total was £40.49. Service: very friendly; dinner: dreadful.