Shildon's birthdays all come at once

Without baring too much of the birth certificate, it is possible to recall that in the column's raggy-arsed infancy the only Italians in Shildon were Mr di Palma, who sold ice cream with a well weathered horse and cart and Gabriele's, who moved with the times and brought a van from Bishop.

They also had monkey's blood and a driver, Gabby himself it was ever assumed, who'd blow an Acme Thunderer to sell threepenny cornets - perhaps even to scare the horses - and on good days join us for a game of football in the back alley.

Gabriele was a good sort, if not necessarily an archangel, but you could have driven di Palma's cuddy between his convex legs.

At the same time, the site that is now Savino's was Foskett's music shop and five bob filling station. Our first 78 - is this a record? - was A White Sports Coat by the King Brothers.

Andrea's from Sorrento, lucky enough to meet a Shildon lass on holiday there, landed over here in time for the Stockton and Darlington Railway's 150th anniversary in 1975 and has been building up steam ever since.

For "stupendous" read magnifico, and for "magnifico" read munificent. Ebenezer Scrooge's exercise books had bigger margins than this glad handed feller. How he keeps the wolf from the door, or the eternal smile on his face, can barely be imagined.

Pizza place long established, "caf" much newer, he's at the top of Main Street between the parish church and one of the Ineffable Arches, said by the council to symbolise regeneration but more likely to invite ridicule.

The first surprise last Tuesday was that the place was already well filled. Andrea, dry as a top shelf Chablis, said it was domino night at the workmen's club. "Not everyone likes dominoes," he added.

The second was that on the next table were a senior barrister (whom for legal argument's sake we shall call Mr Eric Elliott) and a Crown Court judge (whom we shall call His Honour.)

Mr Elliott had rung the judge that lunchtime, suggesting dinner.

"Where?" enquired His Honour.

"Shildon," replied m'learned friend.

The response may only be imagined, though "guilty but insane" may be close.

Mr Elliott, of course, had seen Andrea hold court before, witnessed the manifest honesty of his operation and the vivid freshness of his cooking, marvelled at the huge portions and low prices, soaked up the scatty atmosphere which the man from Sorrento so assiduously encourages.

It is right to say that we have met Andrea before, however, that when told a birthday was being celebrated, he came to the aid of the party with a rather superior bottle - removing the house red with some disdain - and that he is a man almost impossible to criticise.

Even when Mr Elliott turned a High Court red after almost choking on a fish skeleton, Andrea remained imperturbable. The judge quoted Latin, probably meaning "Let he who is without fin cast the first bone."

"Relax," said Andrea, and we did.

The menu has bits all over the place, like an adolescent bedroom, from pieces of cardboard to blackboards humped about as if by ink monitors at Timothy Hackworth Juniors.

Tuesday and Wednesday specials - pasta, pizza, risotto - are £4.50. Special included whole grouse in vino rosso (£12.95), whole sea bream (£12.75), shark and mussels Mediterranean style (£9.50) and chicken Diane in brandy sauce (£8.50.)

As if to affirm its seven seas provenance, the "fresh fish soup" bore the legend, "Made in Shildon, UK".

The boss began with antipasta, generally perceived in Italian style restaurants to be three slices of salami, two lettuce leaves and an olive.

For £5.50, this one comprised nine well filled bowls - anchovies, artichokes, mushrooms, mussels, olives, pate, peppers, salami and a scallop wrapped in bacon.

It was impossible for her fully to do justice to it, though Shildon lads might fare better.

Similarly a wonderful salmon and prawn soup almost overflowed a bowl the shape and size of a Five Nations rugby ball, served for £4 with a large plate of Andrea's garlic bread of heaven.

Were food sex and starters mere foreplay, there never again be need for Viagra.

Accent still as thick as a deep pan pizza, Andrea occasionally wandered through to check that all was well. In truth, it was wonderful.

The conversation had turned to George Reynolds, as inevitably it would when journalism and judiciary joined in Shildon.

Mr Amos: Then there was the wonderful story of the mortgage...

Mr Elliott: Do you remember when...

Mr Amos: Objection, your Honour, I was telling George Reynolds stories first.

His Honour: Quite right, do be quiet Mr Elliott.

The Boss followed with something prosaically billed as "Andrea's mixed fish", a large and lyrical array of bream, king prawns, mussels, salmon, scallops and sea bass for £12.50. "It would easily have fed three," she said, "but only if they pigged themselves."

The Sicilian lean beef, just £8.50, was so wonderfully tender that it cried "Eat me" in several languages.

The sauce was a variation on provencale, the accompanying vegetables almost untouched.

Elsewhere, the crisply cooked potatoes would have some poncey name. In this vibrantly colourful and effortless informal caf they aren't even roast potatoes, simply R/Pots.

Arametto ice cream, two spoons, finished a memorable meal, though the evening jollied along with chestnuts and lemon liqueur thereafter.

Both execution and atmosphere had been perfect for the occasion: a place where all your birthdays come at once.

* Savino's Caf, 3 Main Street, Shildon (01388) 773541. Open Tuesday-Saturday, 10am-9 30pm; booking advisable at night. Fine for the disabled.

IN matters of munificence, none is more liberal than Mr Brooks Mileson, former four-minute-miler and now chairman of the Peterlee based Albany Insurance Group - which is why we planned to buy him lunch last week at the multi-award wining No. 22 Coniscliffe Road in Darlington.

Brooks is a man of simple tastes, however, preferring a couple of ham and pease pudding sandwiches at the Britannia.

Ralph Wilkinson, No 22's owner, is himself something of a ham and pease pudding buff - the pease knees, he says, are to be had at Barton Lorry Park, north of Scotch Corner on the A1.

They're made in Shildon, too.

AWARDS upon awards, the Rose and Crown at Romaldkirk, in Teesdale, has been named the AA's Pub of the Year 2003 - "a great all rounder" - the Good Hotel Guide's Inn of the Year for 2003 and won a special award for all round excellence in the Pride of Northumberland awards. The AA has also named Christopher and Alison Davy's place one of the top 200 hotels in Britain and Ireland.

SEEKING something similar, Numjai II - promising to become "the foremost Thai restaurant in the UK" - formally opens on St James Boulevard, Newcastle, on November 1. Perhaps they mean equal foremost with Numjai I, which is in Durham.

Buddhist monks will perform a blessing, Thai dancers go through their routine, the great and mighty also dance attendance - and unfortunately, we can't make it.

Still on Thai eye, last week's column suggested that A - who cooks at the George at Wath, near Ripon - would make a lovely dipthong with Oi, from the Black Horse at Ingleton. There was a bit of a vowel-up - the name, says the Ingleton lady cheerfully, is Oie.

...and finally, the bairns wondered if we knew what has big antlers, a high voice and wears white gloves.

Mickey Moose, of course.

Published: 15/10/2002