Pukka Pavilion

So after a lengthy period of speculation at the Pavilion, which sits on the fringes of Iveston, a small village close to Consett, it was a relief to discover that a large display of lilies was real.

Everything else about the Cantonese restaurant was authentic, so it would have been a shame if the flowers had not been picked for the occasion.

The North-East boasts plenty of Oriental eateries, but away from the bright lights of Stowell Street in Newcastle, there aren’t very many that could claim to inhabit the upper end of the scale.

The Pavilion, which has been earning rave reviews since it moved to its current site from Consett town centre in 1994, certainly fits the bill.

Speaking of bills, it isn’t cheap. There were two of us, we had three courses and a selection of drinks, and we didn’t get an awful lot of change from £80. But if you’re willing to splash out that little bit more to transform the humble takeaway into a sumptuous sit-down experience, it’s hard to think of too many places that are more appealing.

Working on the reliable assumption that it’s the little things that make the bigger picture, Hong Kong-born co-owners Kim and Wan Yip are clearly fans of attention to detail.

Most Chinese restaurants have an entrance lounge which usually amounts to little more than a tatty old sofa and a copy of the previous Saturday’s Sun.

The Pavilion’s was somewhere you could happily while away an evening, or at least the quarter- of-an-hour or so it takes to negotiate a menu that is comprehensive without being too cluttered.

Happily, the free prawn crackers helped focus the mind.

Waiting in the wings was one of the Mr Yips, sporadically greeting diners and takeaway collectors as if they were long-lost friends. Perhaps some were returning trade – as those foodie TV shows never tire of repeating, is the Holy Grail of the restaurateur.

Eschewing the temptation of a set banquet – three different grades, the most expensive of which contained more courses than you could shake a chopstick at – we opted to sandwich a shared crispy duck with starters and mains.

Bizarrely, when I’d been to Beijing for the Olympics in 2008, I’d discovered that the renamed Chinese capital appears to be the one place in the world where Peking Duck retains its Peking moniker. Changing it must form part of the next five-year plan.

In truth, the starters were probably the best part of the meal. My salt and pepper king prawns were a perfect combination of spicy punch and delicate flavours, with the coating hot enough to cause the tongue to tingle but not sufficiently overpowering to mask the tenderness of the prawns.

My wife went for Wan Tun Soup, and felt the dish was as good as anything she’d had when we visited Hong Kong, the crucible for Cantonese cuisine, last October. And in Hong Kong, let me tell you, they’ll stick a Wan Tun in anything.

The duck was a triumph, shredded at the table by a waiter who appeared to disappear into a trance while he tugged the flesh from the bones. Is there a college course that teaches such things? If there isn’t, then for £9,000-ayear, perhaps there should be.

For mains, I went for Sizzling Fillet Steak Cantonese Style, a decent enough dish but perhaps a slight notch down from what had preceded it. The meat was tender enough, but the syrupy surround was powerful rather than polished.

ACROSS the table, the Sizzling King Prawns in Satay Peanut Sauce were rather better, with this accompaniment being understated rather than overpowering.

Think less something you would dunk a chicken skewer into, more something you would spend hours making yourself with a variety of spices.

All the while the service was attentive and friendly, with a break offered between courses in case anyone was beginning to flag.

Gripes? Well the drinks offering wasn’t too inspiring, with the wine list appearing somewhat overpriced and the draught selection stretching to nothing beyond the seemingly ubiquitous Fosters, John Smiths and Guinness.

That said, the bottles of Tiger were nicely chilled and when in a Chinese restaurant, it’s always nice to throw down a bit of Chinese ale.

At the end of the meal, it was also a nice touch to be offered a complimentary liqueur – and not of the chocolate variety.

The only other complaint, and this was from the wife not me, was that the wallpaper was little bit “Blackpool B&B”. Now the last time was in a Blackpool B&B, all I remember about the wallpaper is that it was spinning, but apparently these things can be important.

So the wallpaper wasn’t fantastic, but at least the flowers were real. As they would say down the road at Consett Cricket Club: “Get yourself back to the Pavilion.” It makes a lot of sense.