Six Restaurant, Baltic, Gateshead

Jun 12 2009 by Geoff Laws, The Journal

PAUL Simon wrote a song about numbers that, in times of trouble, crowded his head adding to his woes.

Some of his muddle lay in his calculations. Simon thought that 2x2 equals 22 and 4x4 made 44! I might not be a mathematician, but he got that very wrong.

Some numbers, of course, have other, superstitious values like lucky seven and its darker cousin, number 13, but I’m not aware of six having any special meaning. The reason this restaurant is called Six is very rational: it’s because it’s on the Baltic’s sixth floor.

The glass lift whisked us up through the levels and we were soon higher than the Newcastle-Gateshead cityscape surrounding us. On a glorious evening such as this, with a clear blue sky and the sun glinting off the Millennium Bridge, there is no finer place. Choice tables by the floor-to-ceiling window gave the best view, but my focus was directly before me on the table.

Our starters arrived and I was immediately impressed by the artistic values of my chilli salt fried squid with Asian dipping sauce. Beautifully presented, this was a mini-masterpiece of oaty-crunch coated squid that instantly created a fascinating contrast of textures between the marshmallow soft seafood and its casing, making this just about the best I’ve ever had. The rich dipping sauce was testament to the care taken to produce the authentic best.

My companion’s grilled English goats’ cheese with poached baby pears and pickled walnuts were surprising in a slightly different way. The term ‘grilled’ suggested the cheese would be warm but, although it had the appearance of heat, the grilling had been done some time ago and the cheese was disappointingly cool and slightly chalky. The piquant walnuts, sweet pear segments, salad leaves and good breads made up for the cheese’s chill as we moved on to main courses.

The sun was still sparkling off the Tyne as I tucked into my succulent Ingram valley lamb shank that fell from the bone in glossy folds. A serving of Heritage mash snuggled up to the shank, both of which were happy to share the rather tight space of the bowl with a deliciously rich port jus. Negotiating the angles initially was a bit of a challenge until I made some headway into the meat, then it got a whole lot easier until all that was left was the bone.

My companion’s pan-fried sea bass on a vodka and thyme risotto with crispy rocket was a much easier deal. Several silvery fillets overlapped one another on a bed of creamy rice, topped by a tangle of frizzy greens. The bass’ white flesh was perfectly cooked, but the skin was under-crisped and unappetizingly soft. Luckily, it could easily be put to one side while the chef’s light touch with the risotto was evident in his restraint with the cheese, allowing the thyme to hold court.

Some perfectly al dente beans, courgettes, mangetout and broccoli went very well with both dishes.

Desserts presented a dilemma because each was as inviting as the other. Eventually she chose chef Sarah’s lemon posset. Her version was a lovely rendition of an old English dessert brought to life in a flourish of citrus sparkle. The topping of various berries was highly decorative and added to the pleasure that lay at the heart of the totally delicious lemon custard escorted by a triangle of sugar coated, butter crumbly shortbread. My dessert was another prizewinner. Thick slices of caramelised roast pineapple curved round a spun sugar basket sitting on a sponge-cake pedestal and cradling strawberries and cream.

Although the rum and Coke were probably there, I struggled to find them but enjoyed the dish nevertheless down to the very last smidgeon.

So, if we’re scoring out of 10, then Six becomes at least a 9. Now there’s a calculation straight out of the Paul Simon school of maths!