Seven Stars Inn, Shincliffe, County Durham

Feb 6 2009 by Geoff Laws, The Journal

ON our way to the Seven Stars at Shincliffe, County Durham, I was reminded of my London years.

The time I spent working as a graphic artist in New Bond Street, with offices overlooking plush jewellery shops and fashion boutiques frequented by the rich and famous. Many well-known faces of the time passed in and out of their doors, adding to the glamour of being at the heart of the city. But there’s a price to pay for that.

Our capital city may be a huge community and undoubtedly has many tourist attractions but, if you live there, you are one anonymous person in the crowds that swarm the streets, cluster around every watering hole and pack themselves each working day into the Underground trains, as I did.

My journey on the Victoria line passed through a station called Seven Sisters, which I assumed referred to the constellation of this evening’s destination.

But what a different journey tonight’s was compared to the grubby, crowd-swept one I made back then. It was a quality of life decision that brought me back here to my roots and I’ve never regretted it. So, with those urban memories safely stored, I stepped into the cosy warmth of Shincliffe village’s Seven Stars.

It kicked off with starters the size of main courses. My black pudding, blue cheese and leek risotto almost filled the bowl. The creamy blue cheese sauce enfolded slightly undercooked rice, with studs of soft black pudding punctuating the mix, topped off with shards of Parmesan cheese.

It tasted good and I soon realised I’d eaten the edge of my appetite before the main course.

My companion’s brioche bread and butter pudding presented a similar dilemma. The ramekin of brioche soaked in savoury custard, studded with oyster and shitake mushrooms and topped with tomato concasse just begged to be eaten.

The good-humoured waiter, aware of the very generous servings, advised a brief respite before tackling the next course.

When it arrived, his wry smile said it all. The servings were huge. He wished us good luck as he left and we set about sampling as much as we could.

My rainbow trout was the full Monty: head, tail and eyes looking heavenward. A soft blanket, described as a red pepper crust, covered the trout’s modesty, with the pale pink flesh beneath lifting easily from the bones. A pile of sweet potato, too cloying and heavy for such a delicate fish, threatened to swamp the dainty trout, which needs a more refined escort then monumental wedges. The side dish of seasonal vegetables was a far better complement.

My companion’s pan-fried duck breast and confit leg came with carrot and potato mash and, as if that wasn’t enough, roast potatoes too. Steady on with the carbs, chef!

The breast meat was sensitively cooked and the confit leg did exactly what it should – giving in without a murmur of resistance.

Decorative furls of beetroot crisps curled on top and a rich jus brought everything to a very satisfying conclusion.

At this point our waiter assumed we wouldn’t be managing dessert and was surprised by our order of panacotta and trio of chocolate.

The latter was a ramekin of chocolate orange fondant with a slightly crisp top, a densely sweet chocolate brownie and a cone of dark chocolate covering white chocolate ice cream. The strawberry/raspberry garnish just dragged it back from the brink of sugar overload.

The dense, creamy banana panacotta was swathed in super-sweet toffee sauce that draped lavishly over banana slices, forming pools around the plate. This combination of very strong flavours needed the dedication of a devotee to do it justice!

So, if you want good gastropub food and you’re feeling extra hungry, this is the place for you because nobody leaves hungry or with even a chance of feeling so for at least a day or two.