THAT TREBY BE TREMENDOUS

TWELFTH BLOG 16.01.14

If you know me you will know there is a certain pub in a Devon village that I am a little obsessed with. My fascination with The Treby Arms, Sparkwell started when my parents bought it and we moved in on June 10th, 1981. We lived there for the next six years, with my mother doing the majority of hosting as landlady and cook, with the important attribute of a stern glare for any rambunctious customer who stepped out of line.

After we left in 1987 there was a long passage of time until 2011 - twenty-seven years in fact. The pub passed from different landlords to landladies and continued serving the local village, just as it had done since 1855, when it was built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel as a place to feed and water his men, who were working hard constructing the nearby Royal Albert Bridge, the railway bridge that runs adjacent to the Tamar Bridge which connects Devon to Cornwall. I often drove through the village on my trips back home, but never went in, nor particularly felt the urge to.

I believe that sometime in 2009 the pub closed. Very sad for a tiny community that had little by little lost the village shop, post office, and even school. For a good eighteen months it stood empty and unloved. One day during this period we even had a peer in through some of the windows and went to the back where my bedroom had been. The wallpaper had been stripped off one of the walls, and I could clearly see where I’d written on the plaster beneath, during a period of redecoration, ‘Sorrel woz ‘ere’, in a burst of mild teenage vandalism.

Anton and Clare bought and transformed the pub very quickly over a two month period in early 2011. I think they opened sometime in April 2011, and we first visited in May having been alerted to the fact that The Treby Arms was alive and kicking again by some local friends. One of the first dishes we ever ate there was their ‘Beer battered fish with chip shop treats’ (said treats consisted of a pickled onion, fresh tartare sauce, a delightful curry sauce, plus the requisite lemon wedge.) We couldn’t believe the quality of the food and got very excited that this was happening in quiet little Sparkwell. At the time, we lived in Sheffield, so would look forward to visiting the pub every time we visited my mother. In 2012, I seem to remember visiting four months in a row - don’t tell her, but these trips might have been in direct correlation to the prospect of a meal at The Treby Arms!

With this personal interest in the Treby, it was fascinating and exciting to watch Anton progress through all the stages of Master Chef: The Professionals to go on to (for the first time) jointly win it with his worthy competitor, Keri Moss at the end of 2012.

Whilst this success was brilliant for Anton and his team, it wasn’t so great for us (!), as the phone at the Treby was literally ringing off the hook - so much so they had trouble taking messages before the phone would ring again, so we had to think of ingenious ways to get through to book a table. We always persevered as the reward was so worth it.

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It’s now Thursday and I am still buzzing from the high gained from an experience I had at the beginning of the week. For Christmas I was given a gift of a ‘One Day Master Class with Master Chef Professional Champion 2012 - Anton Piotrowski’. It wasn’t a surprise as I’d been at the renowned gastropub when it had been booked a month previously and I’d been looking forward to it ever since. To say I was quietly excited the night before is playing it down slightly.

It had been suggested by Clare (Anton’s lovely wife) that I didn’t drive myself there, as there would be a ‘flight of wines’ to accompany a six-course taster menu we would be served at the end of the day. So, I arranged for appropriate ‘chauffeuring’! Upon arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there were only four of us there for the ‘voyage’ - me and three guys. This showed all the promise of a very intimate and unique experience. We started the day with the offer of tea or coffee, and whilst I was going to choose tea, Kira, one of the long serving and staple members of the warm and friendly ‘Team Treby’ was disappointed as she wanted to froth some milk for us; so I had a cappucino to keep her happy. My opening gambit ‘So, who else got this as a Christmas present then?’ was accompanied by murmurs of agreement from my companions and broke the ice enough for conversation to start flowing. We were brought some freshly baked croissants and pastries and soon after a luxurious spread of smoked salmon accompanied by muslin covered lemon wedges (squirts in the right direction, not in your eyes!) with a glass of champagne. Anton came down from his kitchen to welcome us and outline what we could expect from the day. We were given a Treby black apron (cue childish glee), a notebook and pen, and a beautifully presented itinerary with some simple recipes. Anton made the repeated offer throughout the day of ‘Tea, coffee, wine, ale, bubbles, juice or whatever you want - it’s all included, all on the house.’ Fortunately no one abused this offer, and my immediate request to ‘Bring me a bottle of your finest Dom Perignon!’ was recognised as the joke it was intended to be.

We were led up to the kitchens for our first demonstration/lesson of the day. We watched Ali, Anton’s sous chef (and soon to be head chef at the Treby’s sister pub, The Springer Spaniel in Launceston), as he butchered a saddle of venison from a beautiful fallow deer carcass. When he asked ‘Who wants to have a go?’ I volunteered, as I didn’t just want to be a voyeur but an active participant in the learning throughout the day. With the sharpest knives, using the bones as your guideline, and being calm and patient through the process, I apparently did a ‘good job’ of removing an amazing looking piece of meat. I was heartened by the fact that there is very little waste in this kitchen; bones go straight into the stock pots to make amazing gravies, jus and stock. Any bits of flesh that have been missed by a not quite cack-handed student (!) can be used to make croquettes or faggots. The only things that don’t get used are sinews and fat. Chef tried a bit of the raw venison to check the flavour, and feeling brave, so did we all. We even sampled a little raw duck heart, which had an amazing buttery consistency.

Anton showed us a few little tricks of his own (I won’t reveal all, as I’m sure he’d prefer that there is some mystery) and needless to say there were ‘Oohs’ and ‘Ahhs’ at the ingenuity of some of the things that go on in his kitchen.

We then had a demonstration of ‘sous vide’ (French for ‘under vacuum’) cookery. It is a method of cooking food sealed in airtight plastic bags in a water bath at a carefully regulated temperature much lower than normally used for cooking. The intention with this is to ensure the item cooks evenly, and the outside does not overcook while still keeping the inside at the same "doneness", keeping the food juicier. The theory is not a new one, as it was first described by Sir Benjamin Thompson in 1799 (although he used air as the medium to transfer heat). Re-discovered by American and French engineers in the mid-1960s and developed into an industrial food preservation method, it now seems a preferred cooking method in many of the top restaurants around the world - Heston Blumenthal the ‘Chemistry Chef’ is one who favours it. The same can’t be said for Heisenberg the ‘Breaking Bad Cook’. ;)

Lunchtime - a delightful repast of smoked meats, breads, and the full cheeseboard (massive bonus for me as I always plump for the pudding, and miss out on said cheesy delights - if you’ve read the menu of puddings you might understand why! http://www.thetrebyarms.co.uk/food-and-drink/evening-menu/) - was spent with my fellow ‘students’ discussing previous dishes we’d eaten at the Treby, things that had happened in Master Chef, Stinking Bishop, tattoos, how others liked to cook for their friends and restyle their homes to make it even better (one chap had knocked down two walls in his house, to open it up for a better environment in which to entertain.) A pint of Jail Ale (from the Dartmoor brewery, England’s highest brewery situated at 1,465ft above sea level) proved a welcome and lip-smackingly good addition to the meal. It was hard to pull ourselves away from the conviviality of it all, but we were summoned by the chefs for our next lessons.

After lunch we got down to making some fresh pasta. We had a demonstration from Anton, then quickly got stuck in ourselves. From making the pasta from a well of 00 grade flour and some duck egg yolks (which give the pasta a lovely rich yellow colour), to kneading it, and then getting to grips with the classic pasta rolling machine, we made oxtail tortellini, ravioli, tagliatelle, pappardelle (fat tagliatelle :) ), and linguine. I ‘kneaded’ some help from the kindly Paul, the other of Anton’s loyal chefs, when making my pasta due to using my fingers (as with pastry) rather than using the heel of my hand to knead it into shape. Interspersed with the demo and our efforts, we did get to taste the pasta that Anton had made, and also marvelled at the wonder of induction hobs - the instantaneousness of gas, with cool surfaces immediately after turning off the heat.

After this, we were given a glass of ‘a little of what we fancied’ (in my case, white wine), which considering soon after we were armed with a sharp knife to learn some fish filleting skills might have been rash - but I’m delighted to report after not doing too badly (this is what I was told, and I’m not one for blowing my own trumpet ... much!) filleting a plaice, a mackerel, and a sea bream, I walked away with blue plaster-free fingers! We also learned to feather-fillet and remove pin bones (tweezers and a bowl of water is the key). Again, patience, a steady hand, and using the bones to guide you pays off. It was so great throughout the day, as you could ask Anton anything you liked (whether it be questions about Master Chef, a quick knife skills demonstration, or whether his dog EVER gets a bone from his kitchen - answer: no, they all go into the stock pot), could request help from Ali and Paul during putting our lessons into practise, and try not to pull strange faces when Charlotte, in between looking after us, was taking photographs as a record of the day.

All too soon, we received the devastating news that lesson time was over and we were going to have to sit down, enjoy a drink, and let Chef and his team cook for us.

This was where Charlotte’s skills came into play. She is a sommelier in the making (and already on part three of her qualifications), and she’s also a fantastic meal guide (calling her a ‘waitress’ doesn’t seem to do her justice). It was her role to take us through the next six courses with accompanying wines, and she did it magnificently. From a deconstructed cheese and onion pasty (clever), to Anton’s signature black pudding Scotch egg (I generally ensure I have one every time I visit), with scallop accompanied by an English sparkling wine, followed by lemon sole, then venison and completed with the ingenious Treby’s Gone Carrots (carrot cake ‘earth’ with popping candy to represent the rain falling on Anton’s dad’s allotment) served in a flower pot and made famous by the judges’ reactions on Master Chef. Each wine accompaniment was delightful, and confounding all those of you who may think I’m a ‘booze hound’ sometimes we hadn’t finished one glass before the next was poured. The dessert wine from Jerez was exquisite.

I could go mad with superlatives to describe what a fabulous experience this was, but it really was a glorious day. The attention we students/guests received was outstanding, and virtually one on one. The food was first-rate (as ever). The skills and advice shared were for me very exciting, as no one has taught me any kitchen expertise since Domestic Science classes at school when I was fourteen. The rest I’ve picked up through time from family and friends (but I’ve also worked through several boxes of plasters on the way.)

Admittedly, part of me feels a bit like a ‘chef stalker’ - I do remember feeling about visiting Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant in Claridge’s, London (years ago) as though I was going to a rock concert, such was my excitement, and Anton’s cooking makes me feel the same way. I do feel wide-eyed with admiration for the creativity and inspiration that goes into his cooking, because I tried to present my filleted fish and pasta to my family the following day, and even thinking of accompaniments and garnishes had me perspiring with my lack of ideas. The food seemed to go down well with them though. Perhaps I’ll have to save up for another of Anton’s Master Classes.

I appreciate that my over-effusiveness may come across like an advertisement for the Treby Arms. I would like to state for the record that I am not receiving any payment for this, but simply put, I’m bowled over by the experience. I would sign up for another of these in a heartbeat, so I better get some gainful employment from my copy-writing and proofreading soon in order that I can!

As the Devon locals might say, ‘That Treby be tremendous!’ Writing this has made me incredibly hungry, so I’m off to find some dinner *tries not to think of anything on the Treby menu in order not to cry with desire*.