The Clive, Bromfield

The Clive is a posh bar and restaurant just outside Ludlow. We were in Ludlow for a gig by the magnificent Lau and The Clive was recommended so we gave it a go. Unfortunately, some poor bus research meant we had to get a taxi at a handsome £11.50.

I went for lightly battered cod fillet, home cut chips, mushy peas and home-made tartare sauce, which, just like the taxi, cost £11.50. Many things in and around Ludlow seem unreassuringly expensive.

The cod didn’t have much taste and was a surprisingly thin piece of fish. The batter was light, had a very good flavour and wasn’t in the slightest oily. It formed a great crispy accompaniment to the fish.

The chips were outstanding. They weren’t trying to be anything but proper chips. Not too big, not too small with a beautifully crisp golden exterior and a big potato flavour on the inside.

The mushy peas were stunning and had an incredibly clean, deep, intense pea flavour.

Now, the tartare. It did say ‘home-made’ tartare but I wasn’t expecting it to actually mean that you had to take it home and make it yourself. On the plate were three gherkins and two caper berries which were sitting on a dollop of mayonnaise. So, along with the traditional lemon, for squeezing on the fish, I was pretty much all the way there with the ingredients. A sharp knife and a small mixing bowl were the only things they forgot to bring out. It was a classic case of unadulterated, deconstructed nonsense.

The aforementioned lemon was a good size and had perfected squeezability and naturally, as it was a posh place, I had to ask for the vinegar.

Overall, a perfectly OK fish and chips, with the chips and peas being the standout elements, with Hobson’s Best Bitter being a good beer to go with the food.

Getting back to Ludlow proved a bit of a pain: there were no taxis for two hours so a three-mile hike by the side of a busy road was the only solution.

The madness of the deconstructed tartare still makes me wonder how a good restaurant can get it so wrong.

Grandma Pollards, Walsden

I had annual leave to take before the end of the year, which allowed me to take lunch at a local institution. The beauty of going to Grandma Pollards is that it’s ten minutes on the train from Hebden Bridge and the train drops you off at their doorstep.

The takeaway and restaurant is presided over by a larger-than-life character who’s been serving up good honest northern food since 1957 with tremendous joviality. Fabulously, it’s closed on a Saturday and Sunday as he and his staff, like many of us, need to have the weekend off. As the owner rightly says: "Tony's little legs need a rest."

For the uninitiated it can be a little confusing.

1.      Don’t go and sit down in the choice of eating areas. Go to the takeaway section, order your food, indicate you’re eating in, which decides which colour pad your order is written down on, and take your laminated number back to the seating area to find somewhere to sit

2.      There are two seating areas:

a.      The main seating area is a plastic sheeting covered area where the sound of the rain on the roof in a downpour is something to hear.

b.      The bus – yes, a mini bus converted with tables and chairs for about 20 people, which can be reserved if you wish.

3.      Wait for your food to arrive.

4.      Enjoy!

I went for the haddock and small chips at £4.45 with a portion of mushy peas for 95p.

The quality of the fish and chips was excellent. The fish was a good honest haddock that had plenty of flavour and a good texture. The batter was well cooked and had a flavour that only fresh oil can achieve. I should mention that Grandma Pollards is immaculately clean.

The chips had a tasty soft middle and a gorgeous crispy exterior and they were the highlight of the meal.

The mushy peas were very traditional with plenty of flavour and a high level of runniness.

No lemon, but oddly a sprig of parsley which seems over the top for decoration.

The other extra you have at Pollards is a small scallop, which is a deep fried thin slice of battered potato. It was too oily for me as the batter had soaked up all the cooking oil and the potato taste was completely lost.

The salt and vinegar came in huge dispensers on the table and the tartare came from a very flash, hi-tech Heinz packed sauce. It was the most disgusting, sickly and acidic bitterness I’d ever tasted. I have no idea how it got out of the factory gates, let alone onto the table of a chip shop.

The meal was washed down with a can of traditional lemonade and in the background was a stream of 1950s ukulele music.

All in all a really good old-fashioned chippy which should be celebrated and enjoyed for lunch if you’re in the area – between Monday and Friday, that is.