It's places like The Kitchen that restore one's faith in England.
The Kitchen serves proper English regional food with style. The attention to detail really shows, from the spick and span Georgian exterior with it's enormous floor length bay window allowing sunlight to flood in to the beautiful cakes lined up like serried ranks of candy coloured soldiers. Stone floors and rustic mismatched furniture are juxtaposed against a trompe l'oeil to great effect. There is just that hint of unstudied hyper reality that only period dramas and dreamy Cotswold towns seem to have.
The Kitchen opens between 9am and 5pm for five days a week serving breakfasts and coffees, light lunches and afternoon teas. The tea shop is in two rooms, one either side of a chimney breast.
The other half had a broccoli soup with cheese (all we know is that it was a local cheese). It came with a cheese scone, bread, butter and lots of lovely tea. Judging by the 'oohs' and 'aaahs' wafting across the table I can only guess nirvana had been reached . . . this was confirmed by beaming smiles and an empty bowl that was all but licked clean!
I opted for a welsh rarebit which came with a lovely salad. Again, a light yet robustly flavoured snack that disapeared . . . . fast! The Double Gloucester mingled with hints of a floral yet smoky beer and delicate mustard.
Cake inevitably followed, mine a rich chocolate cake dense with flavour and solid of consistency; the kind that demands a 4 mile walk afterwards. The other half erred on the side of caution and settled for a toasted teacake which came wth butter and was reportedly "v. fruity and spicy - yum".
The bill came to . . . I forget. I recall feeling no pain. That places like this still exist is enough.
Go, and enjoy The Kitchen. It's strong local following suggests that it will prevail . . . . just go there and love it a little, to make sure it survives!
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