Back to the heavenly and historic George at Piercebridge

An awful lot of water has gone under that bridge since then.

That evening came shortly after the hotel boasted that it had installed a £500,000 kitchen, yet it still took 43 minutes to rustle up a starter, which represents a terribly long time to make small talk to your wife. Diners on a neighbouring table had to wait more than an hour.

Perhaps it was a symptom that for all the boast of investment something was terribly wrong, and a few months later, the George closed completely, with investors caught up in a scheme selling rooms that seemed not to exist.

READ MORE: A POTTED HISTORY OF THE GEORGE AT PIERCEBRIDGE

The weeds grew up through the lawn, and the island in the middle of the Tees – once neatly mown and reached by a little foot bridge – was colonised by head-high hogweed. To see the creeping fingers of disrepair choking this heavenly and historic location was heartbreaking.

But now, after a couple of years, the hotel has reopened. The river island is still untamed and my experienced lawnmowers’ eye suggested the grass needed a bit of weed and feed after being allowed to go to wrack and ruin, but still there are fewer better beer gardens in the Darlington area.

The view from the Riverview Restaurant

To make the most of the weather, we booked in the Riverview Restaurant, which does indeed have glorious views over the river. Unfortunately, we were placed as far away from the views as possible, even though at least two tables with the very best outlook in the house were unoccupied all night – why would you not make the most of your best feature?

The room itself had cabinets – presumably used for the Sunday carvery – down one wall which were covered in white sheets so it felt like being in someone’s house while they were decorating, but, if I looked the other way, with the setting sun streaming in through the windows, it had a lovely feel. The long rays spotlit a wonderful cellar spider that abseiled its way down from the ceiling, had one look at us and then hauled itself back up on its spindly legs.

The menu is straightforward with lots of staples – Cumberland sausage, roast chicken, parmo, fish and chips, bolognaise, burger…

Rather than fine dining, it looks like it is pitched at people staying a couple of nights who don’t want a blow-out every night.

Pate starter: not enough bread for our liking

Between the three of us, we shared two starters: farmhouse pate and duck spring rolls (above) (both £6.95). The pate was nice and came with an onion chutney but the bread to pate ratio was wrong and we had so much pate left when all the bread had been consumed that I wrapped it up in lettuce leaves and shovelled it in.

The spring rolls were crispy and packed with meat, and although they were not noticeably ducky they came with a lovely sweet chilli sauce that had a real touch of heat.

Main courses start at £11.95 for Spaghettis Bolognaise or a cheese burger so, in this day and age, not expensive.

Genevieve, my daughter, chose roasted chicken breast (£14.95) (above), which was moist white meat in a tasty peppercorn sauce with a swathe of greens and a good fondant potato that was fluffy on the inside. It was a simple dish, as most on the menu are, but it was nicely done and she enjoyed it.

Grandma had also chosen from the expensive end of the menu with the pan-fried seabass (£18.95) (above). The fish came laid on a dauntingly large number of sliced, fried potatoes. It was nicely cooked, with a couple of sprigs of broccoli and a little jug of a buttery sauce with capers. The sauce moistened the dish but it felt unbalanced by all that potato.

I, of course, chose the less straightforward, and one of the most costly, items on the menu: the pan fried calf’s liver for £19.95 (below).

At school, we were force-fed bullet hard and grainy liver that came from an indeterminate animal so I have shied away from it ever since. It rarely crops up on menus, which was why I was drawn to it, and I was rewarded. It was a large steak of liver with a gentle taste – it didn’t pack a meaty punch, but was surprisingly delicate, served on a bed of mash with just a hint of sweet horseradish and a rich, herby gravy. A couple of sprigs of broccoli and a few roast carrots completed a very successful dish.

Desserts were all £6.95 and followed the straightforward theme. Chocolate Brownie and STP were, of course, present. Grandma had lemon meringue pie, which was exactly as described; I had the syrup sponge and custard (above), which was exactly as described, and Genevieve chose what the menu described wrongly as “white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake”. What arrived was most definitely caramel without any form of fruit (below). Still, a cheesecake is a cheesecake, so it was alright.

Three courses for three of us, with soft drinks, came to £99.

In 2019, the bill for a very similar meal, with a glass of lukewarm white wine, was £96.25.

The menu back then was far more extravagant – I had beef two ways for a main and slow braised rhubarb compote for dessert – in comparison to today’s largely straightforward fare, and today’s service was also straightforward. Certainly there was no 43 minute delay; in fact, the mains may have arrived a little too promptly.

And the venue, with “my grandfather’s clock” in place in the bar, is still as heavenly and historic as ever. After all the water that has recently gone under the bridge, let’s hope is future is as straightforward as its menu.

The George,
Piercebridge
DL2 3SW

Tel: 01325 374576
Website: thegeorgepiercebridge.co.uk 

Ratings

Surroundings: 8
Service: 7
Food quality: 7
Value for money: 7

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