Hinds Head, Bray

There's something special about Bray. For a village of its size, with a population of under 10,000 people, it sure has a lot of Michelin stars. Seven to be exact. And two of the restaurants have three Michelin stars, Heston Blumenthal's Fat Duck being one of them.  The Hinds Head is Heston's public house par excellence. It won a star in 2013 but has a long and storied history that dates back to the 15th Century. Famously, it was the site of the Duke of Edinburgh's stag party and has remained a favourite haunt for royals ever since. Diana would often dine there with William and Harry when they were at Eton. 

The historic setting is a beauty to behold. Dark woods abound, from structural beams to low-slung doorframes to oaken wall panelling as well as varnished seating and tables. The room is suffused with rustication. It's impossible not to feel immediately comfortable, and perhaps a bit like you've strolled into Tolkien's Shire. 

Mr Blumenthal and Co have of course risen to the task and created a menu to suit the scene. At first glance, the dishes appear to err on the side of simplicity, but that's never the case with one of Heston's restaurants. He has collaborated closely with food historians to develop a menu of historic British dishes, reinventing the wheel along the way. After a swift pint of house ale at Heston's nearby pub The Crown, we were happy to repair to The Hinds Head for dinner. 

The sommelier helped us select an excellent bottle of Bordeaux, a Chateau la Gaspare 2007 Cuvée Prestige. It opened up nicely as the meal went on and paired well with the dishes without overwhelming them, even the scallops, which were admittedly a bit meaty, served with black pudding and curried cauliflower. Smaller, snackier plates were expertly finished. A porky scotch egg had a beautiful panko crumb carapace. The quail's egg at in its centre extruded a sunny yellow yolk when cut through. Devils on horseback were served piping hot, the molten dates swaddled in salty bacon. 

Our favourite starter and potentially favourite dish of the evening was the snail hash, which is based on a 19th century recipe. The snails are cooked with a bouqet garni and then braised for eight hours, then spooned onto a slice of sourdough topped with pistachio paste, pickled walnuts, pickled baby onions and capers.  

Gluttony won out with the mains. As a side for two big cuts of cow, we chose Heston's phenomenal triple cooked chips and dipped them in mash. It's hard to think of anywhere else that can produce potatoes that compare, they are the perfect exemplar of the dish, and when paired with one another are borderline pornographic. Veal was also unreasonably delicious. A bone-in sirloin was served atop a bed of julienned cabbage and onion with a reform sauce - a traditional British recipe made with vegetables, ham, vinegar, spices, redcurrant jelly, egg white, button mushrooms and gherkins. An Aubrey Allan ribeye was imbued with a whiff of charcoal, crosshatched by the grill and served with a hot pink centre. 

We were hard pressed to fit in dessert but pushed through with a light rhubarb trifle with a caraway seed biscuit at its base. Upon leaving the restaurant, as with all of Heston's places, it's readily apparent that there's a standard of precision practiced here that outshines lesser restaurants. 

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