Alleluia for local rules

It's much more politely phrased, of course, but the telephone message is clear and Alleluia, Alleluia for that.

Then further on, somewhere between the wine list and the special lunch, there's another memorandum, also signed "The management". This one says that for the "safety and comfort" of other customers, children will be expected to stay seated round the table at all times and that, "regrettably", defaulters may be asked to leave.

Translated, it means that they'll have their backsides skelped, be sent to bed with nee supper, and their wretched parents with them.

Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

They are simply local rules, sensibly set out. The place itself could hardly be more friendly, more relaxing or more civilised.

The Pavilion Cantonese restaurant, run by brothers Kim and Wan Yip, occupies the former New Inn at Iveston, near Consett. Until 1994 they were in Consett town centre.

We'd reviewed the old place ten years ago, pinched the line from the hymn about "Pavilioned in splendour" and generally were enthusiastic. In those days, of course, mobile phones were the size of a shoe box and it needed Charles Atlas to lift them, anyway.

That this one is different is immediately evident not just in the memos from management but in the waiting area, which in many Chinese restaurants extends to two shoggly bar stools and a poke of prawn crackers (optional).

This one's the size of many restaurants, luxuriously furnished, pictures of the old pub on the wall, abundant waiting staff in identical stripey waistcoats anxious to know it if were a special occasion.

We checked the diary, bare apart from an asinine aphorism from some damn fool American naturalist called Krutch that cats work on the principle that it never did any harm to ask for what you want.

Those with something special to celebrate, it transpired, get an ice cream with a sparkler on top. Note to self: get a different diary next year.

Missives apart, the menu is strong on vegetarian dishes, starters and "sizzling hot plates". There are also the usual "banquets" for two or more, ascending from "peasant" to "grand pooh bah", or something to that effect.

We ordered the "Gourmet's table", usually £23.50 a head but a couple of quid extra - like most other things - on Saturday evenings. By 10.30pm, the table resembled not so much a gourmet's as a Derwentside council refuse tip. They simply whipped off the mucky one and revealed another, pristine, beneath.

A gourmet mightn't have asked for a fork, either - chopsticks should remain a tune for Grade 1 piano - nor drunk mineral water throughout, such is the pass at which medical matters have arrived.

The staff, in any case, treated the Perrier like it were Moet et Chandon - ice bucket, napiery, the lot - even asked (cheeky sods) if we'd like to taste it first. Without exception, they were first rate throughout.

We'd begun with strongly flavoured chicken and sweetcorn soup, followed by a vast plate of mixed hors d'oeuvres that included some utterly wonderful chicken pieces fried in a sea salty batter. Spring rolls, wanton, lovely spare ribs, good sauces, too.

That was the "starter", then there was the "appetiser", the familiar aromatic crispy duck concoction with thin little pancakes. The Boss reckons this is the oriental equivalent of a separate Yorkshire pudding course. Personally I'd rather have a couple of Yorkshires.

There were romantic couples and families with assorted grandmas. In the next room, slightly more boisterously, someone was having a celebration with sparklers. A Consett party, as it were.

The main course comprised chicken with ginger and spring onions, expertly cooked, and the most succulent Cantonese style fillet steak, sizzling so greatly that we half expected the sprinkler system to be operated.

We finished with China tea and oranges and things, took a late night stroll round the village, headed happily home. A superb meal: pavilioned in splendour and now girded with praise.

l The Pavilion, Iveston near Consett, open seven lunchtimes and evenings from 5.30pm. Suitable for the disabled. Set lunch £9, dinner around £40 for two, without wine. (01207) 503388.

SINCE Jennings of Cockermouth brew excellent ale, we are interested to read in Darlington CAMRA's newsletter that the brewery has bought the Coach and Horses in Barnard Castle, the Cooperage at Bowburn, near Durham, and is looking at other "selective purchases of quality."

Some selective reports, shortly and make a note of Darlington's Rhythm and Brews festival, Arts Centre from September 14-16.

HOW often have we come unstuck on treacle sponge - the image alluring, the proof of the pudding arid and ponderous?

Improbable salvation came at The Chippie, for such is its unimaginative name, in Hawes. We didn't suppose that it had been freshly made out the back, nor hewed from some treacle pudding mine in Knotty Ash, but it was delicious, nonetheless - moist, properly treacly and with good hot custard, £2.20 a shot.

The fish and chips were OK, too, though the other principal attraction was a baseball capped young waitress called Amanda Walton - originally from Ferryhill - whose smile should be framed by the English Tourist Board to promote Wensleydale worldwide.

We'd gone with Sixer, on the way home from football in Blackpool. He'd taught her, as it transpired, a wholly unexpected school reunion.

Amanda attended amiably, the sweet talked for itself. Sixer, who's a bit of a Sunderland fan, even stopped belly aching about that afternoon's defeat - testimony, indeed, to the power of proper treacle pudding.

FURTHER down dale, we Sunday lunched at the low beamed Old Horn at Spennithorne, near Leyburn - collections of all sorts of things, including police helmets, and an entry phone in the ladies. For the use of those who lock themselves in, apparently.

...and finally, before the column takes off for a week, the bairns wondered if we knew why the elephant painted its toenails red.

So it could hide among the strawberries.