The Cherry Tree, Jesmond, Newcastle

Aug 15 2008 by Geoff Laws, The Journal

I WAS listening to a radio programme recently about the loss of England’s cherry orchards. Years ago farmers were given a financial incentive to grow other crops and cherry trees were grubbed out. Acres of blossom and summer fruits were lost and now we import almost all our cherries.

It would take years to re-establish the orchards but, perhaps, now is the time to be thinking of such long-term investments in favour of reduced food miles. We had only a short walk to our local Cherry Tree in Jesmond, Newcastle, and a very fruitful dining experience.

The evening started off well with the reviewer’s dream table: a quiet corner with an uninterrupted view of the room. Waiters went smoothly about their business, delivering and clearing plates, uncorking bottles and chatting easily with diners. We observed everything while enjoying a glass of perfectly chilled Muscadet, crusty bread and savoury black olives. It all looked and felt just fine… and then our starters arrived and things got even better.

I feel great joy when food is cooked and presented well and our starters created that pleasure fizz. The scallops were about as good as it gets with five sensitively seared cushions anchored by discs of vibrant, minted pea purée whirling around a mass of crunchy pea shoots dressed with mint oil. The chef’s light, deft touch was also there in the soft-boiled duck egg with English asparagus, Iberico ham, truffle cheese and celery salt. Somebody in the kitchen must have asbestos fingers though, because the egg was perfectly peeled and then balanced on a raft of tender asparagus, with a diaphanous layer of melting Parmesan. Each ingredient glowed with taste and character.

Following this, we were now eagerly anticipating our main courses of roasted turbot with mussels Provençal and shellfish sauce and crispy confit of duck with broad beans, roast potatoes, frisee and mustard.

The turbot was delicious in every department. The succulent fillet lay confidently across a bed of juicy mussels Provençal. The seafood melange straddled two pan-roasted potatoes surrounded by a rich, bisque-style sauce. The duck wasn’t going to be outdone and strutted its stuff. The crisp-coated, muscular leg had been cooked to peak condition and the soft, fibrous meat fell gently from the bone. A scattering of powerfully smoked lardons competed for first flavour place on the plate, but just lost out to the duck. Dainty broad beans were scattered between salad leaves and the peppery mustard dressing linked everything in a coherent whole.

Our joy levels were rising as rapidly as mercury in a heat wave. Beautifully tempered, live café-jazz guitar music floated seamlessly between standard numbers, adding atmosphere without being intrusive. Another rare treat.

Many restaurants take their eye off the ball when it comes to desserts and offer bought-in ice creams or predictable puddings, but not The Cherry Tree. The chef’s attention to detail didn’t waver as he approached the final hurdle. What he hadn’t appreciated though was the dilemma he created. I’d a terrible time choosing between the chocolate and malt semi-freddo, lemon rice pudding and my eventual choice of pineapple and star anise tarte tatin with coconut ice cream.

The freshly cooked tart had a robust “taffy” coating on a chunky slice of pineapple topped by a subtly flavoured coconut ice cream. My fillings were challenged by the “taffy”, but my dentist’s work was more than a match for them.

My companion’s Kirsch-braised black cherries with pistachio ice cream produced a massive serving of glossy, red/black cherries drenched in warm kirsch with a fragrant pistachio ice cream that gradually melted to leave marbling traces in the syrup. After such an outstanding experience, we needed a couple of espressos to ensure our feet would be firmly on the ground as we walked home. When I think back to that evening, bubbles of joy start rising again and I know I must go back for more.