Andrew Kay enjoys the adventurous menu from the new team at The Cuthbert Pub & Kitchen

Perfect pigeon

Open a menu in Greece, any menu, and the content will be much the same, the same applies in Morocco and Tunisia, they all do pretty much the same dishes to differing degrees of success. It happens with many national cuisines, there appear to be regulation dishes that must be offered. The same is not so here in the UK. After years in the culinary wilderness, British food has emerged, swan like, as a shining example of what the culinary world can offer. Swan like may be too pure a thought, after all, the emergence of a modern British cuisine is so much made up of different international influences, so it’s a bastard swan, a half breed – but one of increasing beauty. Offer the menu challenge in any UK restaurant of note and you will find massive differences. Okay, the usual suspects, the fads and fashions will be there, but not all of them – well not often.

I was hesitant to visit The Cuthbert too soon, I rather like a place to settle in, but when I heard where the new proprietors were from I jumped at the chance. I remember The Cuthbert when it was a boozer with a bar billiard table, more recently a place which seemed to always be closed. Now it’s back, old name in place and a rather interesting new look. Imagine shabby chic, then take away anything resembling a real or a fake antique, anything painted with crackled paint and banish the Farrow and Ball colour chart. Okay, now insert 1950’s kitchenalia, printed tea towels and cross-over pinnies, colours plucked from a 1961 Dulux chart and a nice slice of kitchen sink dram and you will be close. I loved it, it took me back to my childhood.

Fortunately the menu did not. Here were dishes that left me bewildered, spoiled for choice – and not just the savoury dishes, I would happily have eaten the pudding menu from start to finish, I did not (but I was tempted).
So with a much appreciated G&T in hand we set off. First though a salt cod brandade, crumbed and fried and spiked ready to eat, delicious.

Mr R made a beeline for the crispy pigs cheek. I was tempted too and have to say that it was extremely good and very generous too. I looked on with envy until my Pigeon arrived. I love pigeon and have always hankered after a good Moroccan pastilla – but never had one, here or there. This was a dish inspired by the North African original, but so much better. Two succulently rare pan fried breasts, a leg, a tiny pie of spiced fruits and some bulgur wheat. As with King George V (bugger Bognor) I would apply the same sentiment to bulgur, or until now. Now I know that it can taste extremely good, meaty even, filled with spice and fruits and fighting for attention on a plate already filled with muscular flavours. It was a sensational dish and a brilliant start.

Mr R took the more staid route of steak and chips next but was delighted by a great piece of meat and some stunning proper chips. I tasted both and the chips are up there with those of a certain Mr HB. The steak was perfectly cooked, we asked the chef to cook it as he saw fit and it was a good move, and topped with a rich deep green herb butter.

I chose the roast cod with Bombay potatoes and spicy leeks with a coriander bhaji. Once again global influences but not in a gimmicky way but rather more respectful and refined. The fish was superb, pearly white and cooked with precision, the side dishes were great too, good spicing but too much to cover the sweet fish. Four dishes in and an amuse bouche of note and not one disappointment.

So on to puds and a real dilemma. In all seriousness I could have scoffed the lot, pure greed, not hunger, the food was not only refined it was generous too. In the end Mr R chose a parfait with cinnamon doughnuts and I chose orange and honey creme brulee with rhubarb and sugar cakes. I wanted the poached pear with blue cheese too but decided it was a course too far.

Now Mr R likes a pud and this one put the biggest of grins on his face, especially when he discovered that the doughnuts were filled with pistachio cream. His face was a picture of fulfilment. My brûlée hit the same high spot, a perfect custard, crystal sharp caramel and a hint of honey and orange with a small dish of hot rhubarb on the side and two rich brown sugar biscuits. How I grinned.

We drank a bottle of good Tempranillo and finished with coffee. And not content to end there the chef sent out two whiskey sour jellies. I loved it but Mr R said it had a taste of Cherry Blossom polish. The Cuthbert is sensibly priced with main courses from £9.50 to £17 and the rest in proportion to that. I cannot wait to go back and very soon.

The Cuthbert Pub & Kitchen, 136 Freshfield Road, Brighton, 01273 699693 www.thecuthbertpubandkitchen.co.uk