The Yew Tree Inn

Michel Bourdin is a legend among chefs. In 1975, he arrived from France to begin his career as Head Chef at The Connaught hotel, the Mayfair institution of old world glamour and fine dining that catered for the likes of Cary Grant, David Niven and Princess Grace Kelly, among many distinguished others. Being the wood-panelled establishment that it was, Bourdin was told to change nothing; but the young chef had other ideas.

Bourdin was soon welcomed into the small and exclusive Club du Neuf, an organisation formed by the most renowned London chefs at that time, namely the Roux brothers, Peter Kromberg and Anton Mosimann, with the aim of setting high standards for commercial kitchens to follow. Bourdin found a passion in this and helped to develop what is now the benchmark for kitchen apprenticeship and training in haute cuisine circles. Back at The Connaught, Bourdin installed a team of 52 chefs, with 13 cooks at each station. The food was forward-looking but with a distinct retrospective nod to those who’d gone before him, the founders of haute cuisine, Antonin Carême and Auguste Escoffier.

In 2001, Bourdin hung up his apron and retired from cooking, but his memory lives on, and nowhere more so than at Marco Pierre White’s Yew Tree Inn. Despite his rock-star-like celebrity status and his somewhat eccentric reputation, Marco is a very serious cook. You don’t become the world’s youngest chef to have 3-Michelin stars without slaving over a hot stove for many painful hours. Hailed by many within the catering industry as one of the most talented chefs our country has ever produced, Marco’s impact on the fine dining scene in London was revolutionary, raising the bar yet higher for his peers, apprentices and mentors.

Ten years after his own retirement from the kitchen, Marco still harbours a deep respect for those masters of gastronomy who’ve gone before him, and it was this reason that I was so excited about visiting the Berkshire outpost of his restaurant empire.

On the menu is Michel Bourdin’s most famous dish, the Croustade d’Oeufs de Caille Maintenon. A finely minced druxelles of sautéed mushrooms and shallots sits on a base of thin, buttery pastry, atop of which are five soft-boiled quail’s eggs, themselves covered with a rich hollandaise sauce. A throwback to the fine dining era of the Fifties and Sixties, this is just the sort of Escoffier-inspired starter that one would expect to have eaten in a glitzy Parisian hotel at the time. It is a piece of culinary history, or ‘old world gastronomy’ as Marco has put it, and I must doff my fedora to Mr White for having this on the menu, just as he doffs his bandana to Bourdin for having done the same. As one great master succeeds another, there is an appreciation of the culinary road that others have walked before them; from Carême to Escoffier, from Escoffier to Albert Roux, and from that generation to Marco and onwards again.

So, what of the actual dish? Quite delicious and as decadent as one would expect. On this occasion, however, the eggs were slightly overcooked so I didn’t experience the yolk running over the other ingredients as intended. But despite this error it was an otherwise well executed, rich and unctuous dish, each mouthful bringing a sense of retrospective delight to the palate. It’s a glamorous concoction, the type of starter that Fleming’s Bond would’ve ordered, along with a Dom Perignon ‘52 and a custom-rolled cigarette with a blend of Balkan and Turkish tobacco. If you can’t stomach such a rich dish, a version of Bourdin’s renowned kipper paté is also on the menu.

Following in the same vein of culinary tributes, I chose a main course of ‘Venison Pierre Koffmann’ after Marco’s grizzly mentor, with chou a la crème and sauce chocolat amer. The venison arrived seared and cut into tender slices, cooked to absolute perfection; a truly sterling piece of meat treated with due respect. With it was a mound of cabbage, bacon and shallots, making a nice accompaniment to the venison but one that was way over-salted. Side dishes of creamed potato and a swede purée also featured this disproportionate salting, so much so that I couldn’t eat them without gasping for some fresh water to dilute the sodium chloride overload. I was quite surprised by this hindrance. Seasoning is very important but too much of it will ruin a dish, and although the potato had been creamed to a wonderful velvety texture, the spoonful of salt didn’t make this medicine go down very well at all.

As for the restaurant itself, at first I found it to be confused in its identity. On the one hand it’s a traditional inn, situated in a heavy-beamed country cottage with a nice selection of ales and dishes like fish and chips, pies and steaks on the menu. On the other hand, it’s decked out with leather booths and white table cloths, somewhat reminiscent of a 1950s fine dining restaurant. You’re not quite sure whether to relax and order a pint, or to ask for a bottle of their finest Chateau Margaux. With dishes like Bourdin’s Croustade d’Oeufs de Caille Maintenon on the menu, you have to wonder if that really sits comfortably alongside a Shepherd’s Pie. But then I started thinking, well why the hell not?

Ponder on the menu for a moment and the mind behind it, and one begins to see the sense in it all. It’s about food and tradition, and it clearly embodies the things that are important to Mr White; namely a respect for classical cooking, superb ingredients and a fond appreciation of hearty British food. Where else could you go to sample a haute cuisine tribute dish to one of Britain’s most renowned chefs, enjoy a pint of Mr Chubb’s Lunchtime Bitter (that has to be the best name ever for a beer), and then round off the meal with a Sherry trifle? Nowhere that I can think of. The menu makes you think about food, and I found it to be quite endearing.

The meal didn’t come cheap, but then The Yew Tree Inn caters for the well-spoken clientele of the Newbury area, made quite apparent by the presence of Porches and Jags in the car park. Service was friendly and relaxed, but striking an odd balance between Harvester non-efficiency and the food knowledge you would expect in a Michelin star restaurant. I was left with the impression that it’s a bit rough around the edges. Some of the table cloths were crumpled beyond belief, having only been ironed on top. The lack of background music, while not usually a problem, gave it the hushed atmosphere of a library on this visit, and someone had brought their dog into the restaurant which occasionally yapped at passersby. Not something you would blink twice at in a country pub, but in a nice restaurant the growling animal looked slightly out of place. Perhaps it was standing in for Marco.

Despite the shortcomings, if I were in the area I would certainly dine here again, if only to sit down to a meal of Bourdin’s classic old world dish, followed by a pint of Mr Chubbs for good measure; how could one resist?

The Yew Tree Inn, Hollington Cross, Andover Road, Highclere, Berkshire, RG20 9SE. Tel. 01635 253 360.