Reviews
Friend or faux
Salvatore Savino seems to have the running of restaurants in his genes. He has now turned his talents to managing a cafe in Durham
THE day after loyally holding
forth at a St George's Day dinner,
after savouring some
sumptuous roast beef and in
general crying God for Harry,
England and all the rest of the crew, the
column found itself lunching at Café
Rouge - French for beginners.
Perfidious Albion, as the Marquis of
Ximenes once observed.
Self-described as a "middle-market
chain", Café Rouge first appeared in 1989,
now has around 90 outlets and is owned
by Tragus Holdings, whose 250-restaurant
portfolio also includes the Bella
Italia line.
In Durham, where Café Rouge is new,
Bella Italia is next door. Since we are now
a café society, Caffe Nero is just up the
street.
There is a certain hauteur among food
critics - a certain froideur, too - towards
chain restaurants. If they visit at all, it's
usually with preconceived notions - a
chain reaction, as it were.
That the Durham branch of Café Rouge
suggested a more appealing prospect was
partly because the website menu looked
promising and partly because it's managed
by Salvatore Savino whose late father
Andrea turned Savino's in Shildon
into the most ebullient and idiosyncratic
eating place in the North-East and with
some cracking good food, too.
Andrea died, much mourned, last
year. While legalities continue over what
will happen to the Shildon premises, Salvatore
has perhaps to rein iconoclastic
instinct in the interest of corporate responsibility.
In that respect he is reminiscent
of Mr Boris Johnson, the new
Mayor of London.
He's a good lad and it's a nice place, the
walls covered with French posters and
the occasional tricolour - a Rouge gallery
- the atmosphere relaxed, the cosmopolitan
clientele ranging from streetwise students
to older folk who looked like they
might have been more at home in Carricks
café.
A pair of elderly ladies ordered two coffees
and a bottle of wine. The Boss
thought that a perfectly balanced diet.
It's a former Pizza Hut in Silver Street
next to the bustling, busking Prebends
Bridge. Salvatore recognised us, showed
us to what he said was the best table in
the house and was probably right - next
to a slightly open window, views of the
river, basket chairs for those with what
used to be called a fuller figure.
He also enquired whether the visit to
Durham were for shopping or football,
and was told the truth. "No pressure
there, then," said Salvatore.
That it is faux French is inevitable, toilets
labelled "Mesdames" and "Messiers"
but also WC for those unable to make the
connection.
If it's a toss-up between friendly or
faux, however, the first wins every time -
and in a wee Scottish lassie called Angela,
we had a gem of waitress.
Angela had kids at home, worked parttime
before children's television drove
her barmy. "If I ever go on Mastermind
my specialists subject will be CBeebies,"
she said.
The menu has simple French labels,
English sub-titles. We drank Laffe, a Belgian
bottled beer with plenty of dry
flavour - so it should have at 6.2abd and
£3.20 for a small bottle - and a naturally
cloudy cider which took The Boss back
to west country student days.
She'd begun with crevettes a l'ail - you
know, king prawns with garlic, tomato
and chilli - followed by salmon nicoise
salad with new potatoes, olives, French
beans, anchovies and red onions.
She'd also forgotten that the French for
sea boss is loup de mer - literally wolf of
the sea; queer blighters, these sea bass.
There was also an etymological debate
about the Marmite Dieppoise - a seafood
casserole - until the lady of the house, the
smartest in any language, remembered
that "marmite" is French for a sort of covered
earthenware pot. The Oxford English
confirms, inevitably, that she was
right. It's how the yeast extract, love it or
hate it, came by its name, too.
I'd started with crepe d'eglefin, which
translates into "baked Brittany pancake
with a creamy smoked haddock filling
and melted Gruyere cheese". It was a bit
scadded, as they say in French West Rainton,
otherwise fine.
The "Saucisses de Toulouse" came from
a four-dish section headed "Plats regionaux"
- dense, heavily smoked, greatly
Gallic sausages with a warm new potato
salad and thyme jus (£9.75). The
sausages were excellent; distinctly different,
the thyme jus added perk to the
platter. £9.75, though? We wondered
about the exchange rate.
The only disappointment was the assortment
of puddings - a routine creme
brulee, a lukewarm red currant crumble
and a chocolate confection with nasty
cream. The bill, with the addition of a Citron
Presse - beloved of the French -
reached £38.
Back home, we again checked the Tragus
Holdings website, turnover up to
£148.7m last year, pre-tax profits to
£28.2m.
The first link in a new chain, called
Huxley's, was due to open in March - if
ever it got off the ground - at Heathrow's
new terminal five. It was described as
"traditional British".
Chacun a son gout, as probably they say
in Cafes Rouge everywhere.
■ Café Rouge, Silver Street, Durham,
0191-384-3429. Open 9am-11pm weekdays,
10am-10pm Sunday. Main menu
from noon plus lunchtime prix fixe.
Step-free access.
SPEAKING of Marmite and of
Durham, which (rather thinly
spread) we were, Durham University
chancellor Bill Bryson acknowledged
the stuff's curious appeal in Notes From
a Small Island. "There are certain things
which you have to be British, or at least
older than me, to appreciate - skiffle
music, salt cellars with a single hole and
Marmite."
JUST what the doctor ordered, and
wholly efficacious, a very pleasant
little coffee shop has opened in the
former GPs' surgery at Gainford, between
Darlington and Barnard Castle.
The Laurels, run by Karen Birch, overlooks
the village green. The brass plate
announcing surgery hours for Drs Neville
and Waldin has been moved inside; the
good doctors themselves are at a new
health centre.
The menu's simple, inexpensive and
clearly home made, the transformed
building attractively furnished. Breakfast's
served until 11.30, salads, sandwiches,
baked potatoes and things thereafter.
The specials board included mammoth
bowls of richly flavoured asparagus,
mushroom or lentil and bacon soup, all
£3.95 and with very good bread and butter.
Mushroom and bacon pasta or chicken
korma were both £4.95, both enjoyed.
The service is relaxed, the atmosphere
convivial, the day's papers to hand. We
went with this company's retired MD, so
at least one of us had been working all
morning. For both, a tonic at the old doc's.
THIS year's beer festival at the admirable
Langdon Beck Hotel, top end of Teesdale,
has had to be cancelled because landlord
Glen Matthews is ill.
The pub's still open and keeping the
home fires burning as normal - and Sue
Matthews hopes to be back on the beer
festival trail, and to be celebrating Glen's
recovery, next year.
SUCCINCTLY headed "Quaker
shaker", Darlington CAMRA's excellent
newsletter reports that the
Quaker House - a town centre pub where
ten well-kept real ales are available at
any time - has been taken over by Scottish
and Newcastle, now part of
Heineken.
"Heineken," adds the Darlington
Drinker, "is a Dutch based multinational
not previously known for a love of British
cask beer."
Will the Quaker be the pub which
Heineken homogenisation cannot reach?
A further report shortly.
and finally the bairns wondered if we
knew what fish is the terror of the
oceans.
Jack the Kipper, of course.
9:33am Tuesday 6th May 2008
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