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BERKSHIRE
VINEYARD AT STOCKCROSS
A recipe for California in Berkshire. Take a Victorian hunting lodge, situated a brisk 70 mile drive down the M4 from London. Extend it, taking care that all is light and airy – in the Californian manner. Fill it with good art, both traditional and modern. Provide food of high quality, so that a Michelin star is awarded. Assemble the best cellar in the country for Californian wine. And ensure that the staff is friendly and highly motivated. Fortunately, for those of us who love California but find ourselves rather closer to Berkshire, the recipe has already been followed by Sir Peter Michael, creator of Classic FM and owner of the famous Californian winery which bears his name. The result is The Vineyard at Stockcross.
I arrived and thought for a moment that I had been transported to the Napa Valley – which, believe me, is high praise. A sense of space and an easy elegance pervade the whole property. I noted immediately the extensive, comfortably furnished, public areas and the abundance of really good oil paintings. Some of the latter are worth seeking out in their own right – like the large canvas by John Charlton over the main staircase, showing Mr and Mrs Lewis Priestman, out with the Derwent Hunt (pictured, detail). Other works of art are so conspicuous that they cannot be missed – like the pond by the main entrance, surrounded at night by flaming torches, which is entitled ‘Fire and Water’ and is by William Pye. Very Californian.
I could see these flames through the French windows of my Deluxe Suite (£411 a night, bed and breakfast for two). Apartment 112 is named after a Californian wine producer, Forman. I liked its sitting room, a confection of yellow (the striped wallpaper) and green (the carpet). It accommodated quite easily a sofa, two chairs and pieces of mahogany furniture, like the writing desk. With four table lamps and six (dimmable) spotlights, I was able to create a pleasing and restful setting for my afternoon dose. For this I always display the ‘Do Not Disturb’ notice. At The Vineyard , this is slightly more complicated than elsewhere, so allow me to share the secrets of the system with you. You need to press a button near the door, until a green light flashes. This means that a light is displayed in the corridor, telling the staff to keep away. Both the interior and exterior lights are extinguished automatically when you next open the door.
I am normally totally averse to mini-bars, but here my small refrigerator was stocked with complimentary soft drinks. This thoroughly good idea enabled me to enjoy several chilled bottles of mineral water while I leafed through the selection of magazines provided. Such thoughtfulness was also evident in the provision of a clothes brush, a trouser-press and some of the most comfortable beds in England. In the large bathroom of green marble, a watercolour of a naked lady by Boris Smirnoff watched over my pre-prandial ablutions.
Bathed and carefully suited, I arrived at the restaurant, and was soon settling myself at a large round table on the lower level. Wrought iron balustrades of a sinewy, Art Nouveau style add much to the appeal of this elegant chamber of creamy tones. Before me were Riedel glasses and a tall flute with white orchids. The pianist began to tinkle ‘As Time Goes By’. I felt comfortable and at ease. It occurred to me that much effort and care had gone into creating this environment. I sensed that good meal was in prospect.
And it was. Chef John Campbell is, I suspect, a man of iron discipline. His menu descriptions are brief, almost abrupt. A 10 course tasting menu costs £75. The carte lists 6 first courses, 6 main courses and 6 puddings – from which 2 courses cost £50 and 3 courses cost £60. I chose four courses from the carte and was very impressed. Mr Campbell uses ingredients of the highest quality and combines their flavours and textures with intelligence. I appreciate attractive presentation and I like my dishes to be characterized by subtlety and balance. This night I was therefore a very happy diner.
My opening salad of beetroot, wild mushrooms and ‘smoked oil’ was pretty and full of taste. Then a sweet and luscious confection of scallops, artichoke barigoule and roast cauliflower was enlivened in a most intriguing way by the addition of cucumber. Next came the tender meat of roast saddle of lamb with pea risotto. And finally, a multitude of pots contained an excellent conceit – a ‘deconstructed’ tarte tatin.
I have already mentioned the excellence of the cellar. There are two lists. The ‘International List’ delivers what its name promises and offers many of the world’s grandest delights – like 1955 Cheval Blanc (£960), 1982 Latour (£950), 1990 La Tâche and 1988 Tignanello (£250). But it is the Californian List which is the more fascinating. Prices range from the £26 of the Malvasia Bianca (1996, Morgan, Monterey) to the £1,760 of the 1994 Screaming Eagle cabernet from the Napa Valley. 13 vintages of Opus One go back to the 1982 at £393. And then there are 50 of Sir Peter Michael’s own wines, including the 1995 Point Rouge chardonnay from Sonoma at £395. Wine waiter Davide Vaccarini, a charming and helpful fellow from Milan, brought me two good Californian bottles: a buttery chardonnay with a lingering aftertaste (Plumpjack, 2001 – circa £35) and a cabernet from the Central Coast, oozing sweet, ripe black fruit (Justin Vineyard, 2002 - £38).
I returned to the restaurant the next morning for a hearty breakfast (from which I can recommend a particularly fine version of mushrooms on toast). Then I left The Vineyard at Stockcross and set off back to London – pleased to have been, albeit briefly, to California in Berkshire.
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