DEEP BREATH ... FIRST POST.

The Potted Hen, Friday 20^th September 2013

Belfast was alight last night and the exhilaration surrounding the much publicised Culture Night was palpable.   I would love to say that I was culturally ahead of the curve on this and in the front row of any of the endless and variety of gigs and performances on offer – but instead I was cosily ensconced at a table on the upper floor of the Potted Hen, observing the action.   I didn’t even manage to venture round to St Ann’s Cathedral where my brother was playing as part of the City of Belfast Youth Orchestra. 

No, I was overlooking the crowds in St Ann’s Square with a delicious glass of Argentinian Malbec in hand (happy Friday). 

I’ve visited the Potted Hen a few times recently.  The food has always been of an excellent standard and the service bordering on the over-enthusiastic (which is exactly how I like it).  On Friday evening we were a party of seven and I was the first to arrive.  I was given a seat at the bar which was the ideal vantage point for observing the great and the good of Belfast enjoying their Friday night supper.  If appearances are anything to go by, the Potted Hen is managing a roaring trade which is a heartening sight in these gloomy recession-stricken times.  

 

Once the rest of the party arrived, we were seated and not one, not two, but three waiting staff, came over to take our drinks order.  It was time to apply ourselves to the serious business of choosing wine. There were three of us with a preference for red wine on Friday night and after a brief confab/debate with my more knowledgeable dining companion (he claimed first place at a blind tasting at Direct Wine Shipments, I’ve only ever come second) about the merits of an Argentinian Malbec over a Spanish Crianza, we opted for a bottle of each.  Everyone won.

The Potted Hen’s a la carte dinner menu showcases traditional dishes and current favourites with a twist.  I am a chronic menu-ditherer and therefore it was necessary to scope out the menu in advance for the sake of us all (see here to read it in mouth-watering detail).  After a few moments of compulsory last-minute agonising, I opted for the confit duck & smoked ham hock terrine to start.   Quite a few of my companions opted for a chicken and bacon salad and one plumped for the salt and chilli tiger prawns.  

After an impressively short wait given the number of customers in the restaurant, the delicious delicacies arrived and it was on.  Here I have a confession – I committed the cardinal sin of failing to take photographs of the food.  Beginner’s error and not to be repeated.  I will do my absolute utmost to describe our feast in all its glory to atone.  My terrine arrived in a generously sized ramekin with two hunks of grilled sourdough bread and a mango and cauliflower picallilli on the side.  The terrine itself was guiltily moreish – fairly coarse with chunks of ham hock throughout and a yellow coating of what seemed to be butter topping it off.  I never complain of “too much” but some of a more delicate disposition may find it quite a heavy starter.  No such fear here.  The sourdough bread was very flavoursome, satisfying chewy and an excellent accompaniment.  Unfortunately the same can’t be said for the partnering picallilli. I am a serious picallilli aficionado – especially when paired with anything pork-based – and this one just didn’t cut it.  It was under-seasoned and under-flavoured; and although it didn’t detract from the dish, it didn’t bring anything to the table (vile restaurant pun). 

I deviated from my usual “meat and seafood” rule and continued the porcine theme by electing for “slow braised pork cheeks with polenta chips and warm orange & fennel salad” for my main.  It was divine.  The two pork cheeks were served separately over the warm salad with the polenta chips on the side; all beautifully presented on a black slate tile.  I appreciate that pork cheeks may not be everyone’s bag ; the description alone was enough to put off some members of our party.  By way of assurance, when served in the Potted Hen they do not look like anything other than two delicious pieces of melt-in-your-mouth meat.  Which they were.  They were so tender that they fell apart at a touch (and I am now absolutely ravenous at the recollection).  The warm orange and fennel salad was tastily tangy with a hint of sweetness to cut through the richness provided by the meat.  I was slightly disappointed by the polenta chips which seemed to be overdone and verging on painfully crispy.  Nonetheless, the main was superb as a whole.

And it didn’t stop there.  Powerless to resist the puddings, we all succumbed – me, to the sticky toffee pudding (my Achilles heel ... admittedly, I am a girl of many Achilles heels).  The sticky toffee pudding also arrived on a trendy black slate, adorned with a rich sauce, honeycomb ice-cream and just enough grapes and raspberries to allow the optimists amongst us to fool ourselves that we were eating something healthy (ahem).  The pudding was served as a rectangular slice of cake – just enough to satisfy without pushing an enthusiastic diner over the edge.   Some of my companions had ordered a chocolate brownie which looked fantastic and was served with vanilla ice-cream – no fruit though, so I was the self-declared winner in the health stakes.    The cheeseboard looked spectacular and offered a generous variety of cheeses as well as portions.  A couple of our party had also ordered accompanying glasses of port which were served in dinkily sophisticated little glasses.

 

The service throughout the meal was faultless – extremely attentive and all waiting staff were more than capable of dealing with our larger-than-usual party of seven.  It complimented the accomplished food and served to enhance what was truly a memorable evening in a relaxed atmosphere - on one of the busiest nights that Belfast has seen for quite a while.  Long may it continue.