Message to non-Bristolians: head to Flinty Red at the double. Food as good as this doesn’t come along very often.
Flinty Red is a dinky, informal bistro and wine bar, co-owned by the local wine merchants, whose exposed brickwork and square, functional furniture give very few clues about how the food might come out. It could be Café Rouge or Raymond Blanc. I wasn't expecting what I got.
I was with K, who loves it, though she had been instructed (by me) not to say so too often, lest she prejudice the experience. Instead, every time something amazing came out of the kitchen she'd make these huge 'I told you so' eyes at me, so that by the end her forehead must actually have hurt.
We had three savoury courses each, instead of a pudding, idiosyncratically, so don't get confused by this avalanche of dishes. My salt-hake brandade (£3.50) set out a perceptible theme – take a timeless classic, and only change it for a reason, to make something even better. It was like salt cod only softer and smoother, with more range in the taste. Very classy olive oil rounded it off.
K had deep-fried panisse (£3.50), sort of little nobbly fritters of chickpea flour, seasoned subtly but to wonderful effect. I read somewhere that these were the equivalent of polenta, but where polenta is doughy and thick and easy to leave, these are squidgy and impossible to put down.
She carried on with mozzarella with rosemary farinata and black olives (£7), which forced her to break the omertà. 'This is what I'm talking about! Different, but not stupid.' It was, in fact, perfect – the cheese was in gorgeous, deliquescent condition, but any idiot can buy a nice cheese. Farinata are thick, fried pancakes, also made of chickpea flour, actually, but more crisp – born to partner rosemary, and texturally plain lovely against the mozzarella. Black olives unleashed a deep, salty flavour that radiated out like the spoon of jam in a rice pudding.
I had octopus, with harissa, potatoes and coriander (£7.50), in which I could taste the zestiness of the home-made harissa, brightening up a dish that is almost always simple and lovely.
My main was what I found the most stunning, though: a pheasant boudin blanc (£14), alongside some roasted pheasant breast and a warm salad of pearl barley that made me view this troublesome grain in a whole new light. (I can never get my head round the fact that it stinks of breweries while you cook it, but then doesn't taste of beer. It strikes me as dishonest.)
Anyway, this was lovely, slick with butter, with a satisfying bite. The sausage was smooth, with a very deep flavour, like distilled essence of pheasant. K had white-onion ravioli (£13.50), which sounds like a pretty modest choice but was really incredible. For a start, I have never tasted anything so much like an onion with none of the sting. Indeed, even with the sting onions rarely have this much to say for themselves. It had a beautiful clarity, which the pasta foregrounded. There was some nice, tangy pecorino Ubriaco on top of it, with a pretty, unusual rind that made it look like coconut.
I actually lied when I said we didn't have pudding. We shared a panforte (£3), that very monastic, very dense, figgy fruit and nut cake, which here contained a bit of cocoa, subtly enriching it. I was also introduced to Niepoort port, which I intend to make my festive tipple.
Bristol is not badly served with Michelin starchiness, and it's actually not badly served with organic, pan-European, simple decent food. Nevertheless, I think Flinty Red stands out, for exactly the reason K said – where dishes are done differently, it's for a purpose, not just for the sake of it. Where they're not done differently, it's because they were already perfect.
WINE BARS WITH FOOD...
The Foundry 1 Saw Mill Yard, Round Foundry, Water Lane, Leeds (0113 245 0390)
Visit this redbrick restaurant-cum-wine bar for a candlelit supper of braised lamb shoulder with mint and redcurrant gravy (£17.95), matched with a gutsy red from their well-chosen wine list.
Rumour 30 High Street, Totnes, Devon (01803 864682)
Pinot grigio fans and pizza lovers alike are well catered for at this busy bistro. The latter can create their own pizzas by adding olives and anchovies, perhaps, to the standard margherita base (£9.45), or check the blackboard for the hearty specials.
The Last Wine Bar 76 St George's Street, Norwich (01603 626626)
As well as drinkers and diners, the bar area of this converted shoe factory hosts many original features that hark back to its former life. Choose wine by the glass and enjoy pan-fried pork fillet with creamed celeriac and pancetta (£16.95)
Originally posted at telegraph.co.uk
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