Bath Time III

Bath Abbey. Breath taken away.

The chandeliers were designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, the wonderful, prolific English Gothic revival architect

Photo ©Anne-Marie Minhall

It was almost time to bid farewell to Bath but not before one last brunch & a walk to get the train home.

Off to The Ivy then: https://theivybathbrasserie.com There's something reassuringly familiar & cosy about stepping into one of the offshoots of the West Street original in London.

We're on the clock but not in a too hurried way.

Bloody Marys & a Peach Bellini begin the afternoon.

Starters or not? We thought long & hard. Five minutes of deliberation & a decision was made.

Salt & Pepper Squid - Wasabi and miso mayonnaise, Sriracha, Szechuan salt, coriander and lime

The Ivy Cure Smoked Salmon - Black pepper, lemon and dark rye bread

Prawn Cocktail - Baby gem, avocado, cherry tomatoes & Marie Rose sauce

Mains went like this ..

The Ivy Shepherd's Pie - Slow braised lamb leg and beef, red wine sauce, Cheddar potato mash & a side of creamed spinach, pangrattato, toasted pine nuts and grated Parmesan

The Ivy Hamburger - Chargrilled in a brioche bun with mayonnaise, horseradish ketchup and thick cut chips X2

I should know by now that I can't eat like boys do. In most restaurants I end up leaving something on my plate(s) & always explain that it's not the food, it's just that I'm full.

F U L L

I need to be better with ordering, it's just that my eyes are always greedy whenever I see a menu.

A few little niggles to share about our visit.

Three quarters of the way through my prawn feast our wine was being served, (Verdejo, Cuatro Rayas, Rueda, Spain,) but my glass broke as the waitress placed it on the table, not her fault at all & swiftly cleared away. I wasn't going to finish the starter, obviously. A replacement was offered but little room was left & the burger was on the way. In my head, it would have been removed from the bill. It was not.

After tasting & giving the nod to the wine waiter that all was well with the Verdejo, that was him gone. The ice bucket was too far away for us to top ourselves up & so a request to our waitress was made to step in, which she did.

Finally, the inevitable table-turning-waltz began. The last few sips of wine were taken at the bar. We asked for just a few minutes to finish up & were told: "The next table is here & we need to seat them now" .. Some more notice to depart would have been welcome.

I emailed the restaurant once home & had a pleasant & corporate reply with the offer of some complimentary drinks next time we were in town.

A signal failure at Didcot Parkway threatened to sour a sunny afternoon's travel with a heaving train, but, we found three seats in First Class. A bottle of red was liberated, it had been left over from Saturday evening. The Sunday papers were unfurled & we continued to try to sort the world out. Before we knew it, we were back in London Town trying to hang on to the last vestiges of restfulness & joy that our time in Bath had brought us all.

Photo ©Anne-Marie Minhall

AMM