Dining Alone at Harvey Nichols

I'm not great at updating social media with all the changes in my life, so for those of you who know me I'll try to catch you up.

If the last thing you heard was that I was living in the Midlands, you're out of date: I moved to Bristol about a year ago, and I like it very much.

If the last thing you heard I was living in Bristol and going out of my mind looking for work, you're out of date: I found a job, and started working in Bath a couple of months ago.

If the last thing you heard I was working in Bath, you're out of date: just like bloody buses, you wait for ages for one then two turn up in quick succession. I start a new job in Bristol on Monday.

All of which means I am now ending a year of tumult, confusion, and oppressive 'free time'. The past couple of weeks I've been twiddling my thumbs a little, not quite knowing what to do with myself before I start the Next Big Chapter, so I decided to treat myself. I took myself to lunch at the Second Floor Restaurant at Harvey Nichols in Bristol.

I've never been for a fancy meal on my own before, so I did what I always do and put on an air of confidence that clearly said 'I do it this all the time, and what are you looking at, Mr Big Stuff?'. I was able to practice this beforehand by wandering around the make-up counters on the first floor looking for all the world like someone who would spend £25 on a single tube of lipstick, and definitely wasn't there to play with the testers then bugger off.

To their credit they hardly looked surprised at all when I asked for a table for one. The restaurant is spacious, with tall windows looking out over Quakers Friars and Cabot Circus, and decorated entirely in various shades of gold. The last time I was there the temperature was a shade too warm and the music had an intrusive thumping bass that made the whole atmosphere a bit weird and oppressive. This time the cooler temperature and far more agreeable Jazz standards being played meant the whole 'total gold' thing didn't feel nearly as aggressive as it did before.

I went for the Set Menu for September, which is a very reasonable £20 for three courses.

I started with a duck terrine, with a nicely dressed salad, thin, crisp bread and plum and ginger chutney. The duck was tender with decently sized chunks of meat, and each ingredient was exactly in the right proportion to the others. The chutney was pleasantly sweet, but I could have done with more of a gingery punch.

My main was slow cooked pork belly with rainbow chard and what the menu said was 'pickled apple puree' but turned out to be slices of apple poached in something like mulled wine. The portion was a little smaller than I was hoping, but I guess rich people don't eat much. The pork belly was delicious, but it is, as you know, a salty meat. The chard was earthy and well cooked, but a little oversalted. The sauce was rich and would have tied the whole dish together if it hadn't been slightly over reduced, leaving it a little salty. Salt was a theme, is what I'm saying. The three small slices of sweet apple were the only thing that saved the dish. It had clearly been made by someone who knew what they were doing, but took their eye off the ball where seasoning was concerned.

Pudding was a cider brandy parfait with 'apple and olive oil crisps'. The crisps turned out to be thin triangles of pastry, about the texture of a poppadom, sprinkled with cinnamon. I can't say I could discern either apple or olive oil, but they were very tasty nevertheless. Both the parfait and and the apple caramel it was served with were delicious - the highlight of the meal.

I'd be happy to recommend this place to anyone, and the set menu which varies month by month is excellent value, but the 'simple food cooked well' ethos doesn't allow much room for error, and I can't say this was error free.

I very much enjoyed my sole dining experience, although I did feel a little rushed. I guess the wait staff would usually wait for a lull in conversation before clearing plates, but since I was on my own (and the restaurant was largely empty), plates were cleared as soon as I was done and the next course brought out soon after. I barely had time to touch my bread rolls (which were clearly home made and very nice). I sat down at 2pm, and had finished my dessert by 2.40. I was hungry though, so I didn't mind too much.

So don't be put off eating on your own. Just bring something to read, and work up an appetite.

Cafe Maitreya

My father is a vegetarian. Now hang on, bear with me. It's not his fault, it's just the way he was raised.

Because he grew up before vegetarianism was really accepted as a thing that exists, he's gotten pretty used to not having much choice when he goes to restaurants. Let's just say it's a good thing he likes cheese omelettes. So when he came down to visit me on his birthday the other week, I suggested we try out Cafe Maitreya, a vegetarian restaurant in Easton I had heard about.

We could see why it has 'Cafe' in the title as soon as we walked in. The decor has that sort of laid back, daytime vibe, with light-coloured tables a touch too close to each other, big windows, and overpriced local artwork on the walls. It felt very informal and sociable, especially with the very decent music selection (until that abruptly stopped halfway through the evening).

We liked the sound of all the starters so the four of us ordered a different one each to make sure we would all get to try a bit. You've got to cover your bases. I had samphire fritters that were lovely, and as salty and greasy as scampi. Pete had an easy, classic asparagus and goats cheese. Mum had a 'weird but it works' radicchio, hazelnut and passionfruit salad, and Dad had a chilled garlic and almond soup with melon balls. I really liked the idea of this, but there was some sort of fortified wine in Dad's soup which made the whole thing strongly reminiscent of cream sherry. I marked that as nice enough, but more than a little odd.

For main I had spiced sweet potato pancakes with halloumi, while others had: 1) a coconut, cauliflower and tamarind laksa, 2) a warm salad of jersey royals, asparagus and lentils, and 3) a squash and applewood tarte tatin. Mum had read some reviews that said the portions were small, so we ordered extra wedges. The reviews were lies, told by lying liars. Do not order extra wedges. You will not need extra wedges.

The flavours of the sweet potato pancakes were powerful, but the texture was so dense and stodgy that eating it eventually became a chore. The consensus seemed to be that in the rush to pack in as much flavour as possible, a couple of things became a little overworked; the squash tatin was a little too sweet, some dressings were a little too acidic.

Despite the little hiccups here and there, we had a very enjoyable meal. Staff were attentive and friendly, and the food was, if not consistently amazing, always interesting.

It was also quite nice for Dad to have a bit of choice, and not be forced into a corner. If nothing else, Cafe Maitreya does an admirable job of proving you don't need meat to have a 'proper' substantial meal with strong flavours. I left with my belly all full of vegetables, and, as tradition dictates, farting like a trooper the next day.

The Star and Dove, Bristol

For the very first post I put up here I wrote about the Star and Dove (that link may not work right now, I think they're re-doing their website), a local pub which does phenomenal food. Seriously, these guys are going to get popular once word gets out so book up while you can. I was treated to a meal there for my birthday a couple of months ago, but wanted to leave it a respectable amount of time before I posted a review.

The deal with the Star and Dove (the Dining Room, at least, the bar food is slightly different) is they take recipes from the 12th to 18th century and recreate them with modern techniques. It's quite an odd sense of disassociation when you order something spelt lyke thys, and end up with a very contemporary looking plate.

I'm going to put my cards on the table here. I love stuff that is made to look like other stuff. Love it. I know it's gimmicky, but God help me, they brought a candle to the table and lit it and told us it was the butter for our rolls. For reals. It even had little dribbles of wax down it. How am I supposed to deal with that? Because if it isn't 'clap your hands and giggle like a child' then I may have chosen the wrong option.

We got aperitifs too. I love it when there's aperitifs. It's a little extra free gift to make you feel like you're getting your money's worth. Ours was a take on the flavours of a Waldorf salad. A rich celery veloute, with a fresh pickled walnut, crumbled apple jelly (they clearly like their gelling agents here - this was a jelly that looked and felt like sand, but would melt in your mouth), and a crisp of filo pastry.

My starter was a soft, tangy fresh buffalo cheese that matched perfectly with chicory and truffle honeycomb, while Pete had... I don't even know what to call it. It was like a ball of fish stock wrapped in smoked haddock and bacon cream so when you cut into it it would ooze more fish. In his words, it was the fishiest fish that ever fish. Fish. I'm not a fan of fish myself, but he assures me that if you did like fish you would probably like this fish. Fish.

My main was Welsh salt duck breast, with a liver mousse in a crispy pancake. I was conflicted about ordering this, because I love duck but really don't get on with liver. I needn't have worried. Although powerful tasting, the mousse avoided that graininess of texture that I dislike, and really tasted more like a fierce blue cheese than anything. Pete had a Carpet bagger steak, which was fillet steak stuffed with goose liver and pate. As you can tell, they are really offally versatile (do you see what I did there? I'm very amusing).

Puddings were amazeballs. Pete doesn't even like puddings all that much, but I've still managed to convince him to go back a number of times just so we can have a cake or dessert in the bar downstairs. I had 'Beetroot Salad', which involved beetroot candied, jellied and crisped and served with chocolate ganache, while Pete had a clotted cream and brandy ice cream, shaped and dipped in an orange gel to make it look like an orange, and served with orange curd. Stuff that looks like stuff. Love it.

So well played, The Star and Dove. Well played. I shall return anon.