Starter for ten

FORGET the golden handcuffs, David Burrow abandoned a successful career in court and prisoner security to open a restaurant in Newcastle city centre - and not even part of a chain.

"I just woke up one morning and wondered what I was going to do with the rest of my life," says the One Who Got Away. "I was in charge of the whole North, driving five or six hours a day, just thought I needed to do something different."

He called it Starters and Puds, which may be fairly self-explanatory, but may as easily have supposed it The Tardis, so great the surprise after entering the narrow doorway on Shakespeare Street, opposite the southern side of the Theatre Royal.

Downstairs the place is amazing, a swish and subterranean network of connecting rooms that, if not quite bunny Burrow, might be a seriously upmarket rabbit warren, nonetheless.

One room's so elegant that the board might meet there. Another, no less smartly furnished, has wi-fi terminals so that those who find it necessary to do such things can keyboard with their coffee.

Framed on the wall are lots of little aphorisms like "Why do overlook' and oversee' mean totally different things?"

and "Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?"

Dave discovered them on a blog run by George Appleby from Clifton, York, himself a regular Hear All Sides correspondent and had invited George and his wife up for lunch the day before our own visit.

"Lovely old feller," he says.

Yet more prominently on other walls are dictionary definitions of words like starter, pudding, relax and enjoy. It was thus a surprise to see "starter" described as an adverb - grammarians will understand - and to have gained an umlaut.

Perhaps it was a sauerkraut, that is to say a German starter.

Dave insisted it was deliberate, was reminded of the error of his ways, and reckoned that it was at least deliberate to preserve the sign writer's mistake. He may be less happy with the menu's description of "bottled beers, largers and ciders".

He's from Darlington, long since ran the Wheatsheaf in Yarm Road, plays 5s and 3s for the Britannia A team which must neither be confused with the Brainless Britannia B (with whom the column has a long-time connection) nor supposed superior to them.

The restaurant concept's a bit like an English tapas bar, the principle to forego a main course - though, belt and braces, several of the 20-odd starters can be bulked up in size.

"That's me being cautious," said Dave, whose daughter Sarah frequently fronts house.

We lunched, agreeably, with the Reverend Leo Osborn, chairman of the Newcastle upon Tyne district of the Methodist church. Chapter and verse, he'd been preparing a series of Bible lectures and was thus glad to be manna borne.

Starters for ten? Between us we had some very good Thai spring rolls, Spanish meat balls with fresh pasta and tomato sauce, whitebait with lemon aioli - "Not much you can do with whitebait,"

said Leo, not unreasonably - Stilton rarebit with walnut and mixed leaf salad and a shared bowl of paprika potatoes, described a posh version of chips and ketchup.

A dozen puddings included banoffi pie cheesecake with a little glass of chocolate milkshake and Leo's a slightly decadent combination of egg-dipped and lightly fried brioche with cinnamon and cream plus a yoghurt, raisin and honey mix.

The menu called it "Eggy bread to die for". The minister lives, appreciatively, to tell the tale.

It's been open three weeks, a very pleasant bolt hole. Though there were few other diners, captive audience or otherwise, Dave's confident of success.

A safe pair of hands, anyway.

■ Starters and Puds, Shakespeare Street, Newcastle. Open 11am-11pm for coffee onwards or for just a pudding. Customers can also have starters before the theatre and puddings thereafter.

COFFEE shop wars may be on the horizon in Wolsingham, Weardale, where a smart-looking place called No 10 will shortly join the established Julie's and Peggoty's - the three so close one to the other that a junior school rounders team could comfortably touch all bases.

A flying visit, we thoroughly enjoyed good coffee and huge scones at Julie's - but there may be bigger challenges ahead.

IF honesty is the best policy, as from the cradle we Shildon lads were advised, then it may have cost the Bay Horse at Ravensworth four Sunday lunch customers.

The menu advises that roasts are served without Yorkshire puddings. If not quite no room at the inn, there's certainly none on the plate. It suggests they be ordered separately, as a starter, a course wholeheartedly to be recommended.

Two large and very good Yorkshires with half a hold of piping hot and aromatic gravy were just £1, possibly the best value in catering and with a serious temptation to pick up a spoon - or the plate - in order to see off the residue.

At any rate a group of four came in, sat down without ordering drinks, studied the sub-text about Yorkshire puddings, held a family conference and walked out again. The lad wore a Chelsea shirt. What do you expect?

Ravensworth's off the A66, about five miles west of Scotch Corner. Squire Botham has recently become Sir Ian.

They love him.

Amiably overseen by Sue Wass, the Bay Horse is a relaxed country pub with smiley service, two hand pumps (Bombardier £2.64 a pint) and lots of equine imagery.

The Sunday lunch menu embraced three roasts (£6.50), egg and prawn salad, The Boss's parsnip and sweet potato bake - "a very nice change" - and sundry sandwiches. Maybe 15 puddings all had horsey names like "Stable lad's dream", "Dead heat" and what have you.

The Boss started with entirely enjoyable goujons of cod, we with the pair of puddings. Neither did the plate which followed have room for new potatoes or fresh vegetables, which came both separately and abundantly. The pork was fine, the crackling cracking.

Be warned that they stop serving at 1.30pm and that - contrary to what others may suppose - the proof of the pudding is in the eating.

STILL with matters of an equine nature, a new "fine dining" restaurant opened at Sedgefield racecourse last week, overlooking the finishing post.

Called Silks, it's basically a carvery with starters and puddings and a "seasonal"

drink on arrival. Cost of a fine dining flutter? £75 a head.

THE enthusiastic piece a couple of weeks back on the Moorcock at Garsdale Head, west of Hawes, said that the pub's cellar had been used as a mortuary after 12 people were killed when the "Scotch express" was derailed on the nearby Settle and Carlisle Railway on Christmas Eve 1910. Paul Luff in Darlington, to whom thanks, supposes that the toll wasn't quite as bad as had been feared. LTC Rolt's acclaimed book Red for Danger puts it at nine.

and finally, the bairns wondered if we knew what two rows of cabbages are called. A dual cabbageway, of course.