Alls well at The Four Alls

THERE are five alls at the Four Alls. The monarch who rules all, the bishop who prays for all, the lawyer who pleads for all, the soldier who fights for all, and the fifth all is the worker who pays for all of the other four.

But how about a sixth all at the Four Alls.

On a wonderfully still and steamy evening, we had a good meal and an enjoyable experience at this traditional Teesdale pub – it was more than alright.

If you are expecting haute cuisine or the very latest food fads, you will be disappointed. If you are expecting recent refurbishment and mod cons, the Four Alls is not for you. There is woodchip on the wall and the decor includes three large and rather incongruous china Oriental kings, one with a sword through his head, standing on the sideboard.

The most up-to-date gadget is behind the bar: a swiftcam on a laptop, streaming pictures of the last swift in the nest under the eaves. It is very reluctant to leave, and as we place our order at the bar, we can hear all the others screaming around the rooftops.

The 200-year-old Four Alls is in Ovington, a small village between Darlington and Barnard Castle, now reconnected to the world after the bridge at its entrance slipped into the steep-sided ghyll, causing the road to be closed for many months last year.

It is run by John Stroud, his wife, his mother and, making her debut as a waitress on the night we turned up, his daughter. It is round-the-clock work: all the B&B rooms were full of cyclists preparing for the Pennines Etape, and there’s a microbrewery out the back to keep them lubricated. Once a month, there is a Thai weekend when the restaurant is usually fully booked.

The menu is very old-fashioned and unpretentious. Starters (from £4) include prawn cocktail, potato wedges, garlic bread and breaded mushrooms. I chose three deep fried wedges of gooey brie in crispy batter, served with a marmaladey Cumberland sauce, which was very nice, but my wife Petra’s duck and orange pate – with a very similar sauce – was excellent. It was a really tasty pate served with plenty of melba toasts.

The choice of main courses followed a similar pattern. Scampi, chicken, lasagne, cottage pie all under £10, and steaks rising up to £17. I went for chicken and leek pie, which was a great pile of tender chicken beneath a puff pastry lid, while Petra had the pan-fried salmon fillet. Both dishes could probably have done with a little more in the way of sauce, but they were accompanied by large amounts of fresh vegetables and an irreproachable bowl of homemade chips.

The options for dessert were similarly unpretentious and traditionally English. We could have had spotted dick, gingerbread pudding or chocolate and toffee lumpy bumpy, but Petra chose the apple and blackberry flapjack crumble, which was nice and fruity, whereas I plumped for chocolate sponge with chocolate sauce.

What joy!

Even if you are a sophisticate and dine on trendily foreign sweets every night, there is very little that can beat chocolate sponge and chocolate sauce, served in the right proportions. Transported back to my 1970s schooldays, I wolfed it down for fear that the class bully would finish his and steal mine from me.

In homely surroundings, we’d had a relaxing and unforced evening for £53, including drinks. As we left, the reluctant swift still fidgeted in its nest, and the heat of the day brought on a short, sharp shower.

When it cleared, the sun set in dramatic colours behind the clouds and a white mist rose to meet it, leaving ghostly shapes of sheep safely grazing in the gloaming. All in all, it was a very good night at the Four Alls.

Ratings:

Food Quality: 3/5

Surroundings: 4/5

Service: 3/5

Value: 4/5