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Tuesday, 12 February 2008

Special Edition : Black Tiles, Suffolk, February 12th 2008

Black Tiles
Martleshame
Woodbridge
Suffolk
United Kingdom
IP12 4SP
01473 624038
ggh
The argument that if you really can only find the time or motivation to appreciate your girlfriend, fiance or wife on one designated day of the year, then maybe your relationship is beset with more problems than can be fixed with chocolate hearts and lingerie is a good one. Still, it seemed like something I would be best kept keeping to myself, so here we were at Black Tiles, Woodbridge. The interior was beautiful. Dark wood used throughout, with predominently red and black walls and elegant candles on every table. The light was just right, soft without being too dark to see the people you were eating with. The menu was a bit sparce, but there were nearly a dozen specials to make up for it. They were recalled at such speed by our waiter that I scarcely took them all in. In many ways, it seemed to make them all rather less special, but it added to the overall choice nonetheless.
aaa
The service was in danger of becomming a little amateurish. It appeared to be run mostly by school kids wearing badly fitting shirts and scuffed black shoes. As somebody who has been sixteen, you can spot the pair of black utility shoes from a mile away. They aren't comfortable to wear, nor do they look good. Generally, they're worn to weddings, funeral, work, school and any other mandatory formal event in your calendar. As a result, it was a bit like being served by the cast of Bugsy Malone. My confience wasn't enhanced when my girlfriend ordered a J2O, only for our waiter to form the expression of somebody who'd just been asked the square root of 7613, before scurrying off to find a pad to write it down on. It didn't seem like a particularly elaborate request, but credit where credit is due, he did return with a J2O as promised. Small steps, eh? Later, upon arriving at our table with the food we had ordered, he ran in to further trouble. Seemingly drawing a blank at identifying what it was he was supposed to be serving, he eventually came out uncertaintly with, 'here's some food'. Well that much appeared to be blitheringly obvious to all but the most unfathomably incompetent.
aaa
I'd never eaten swordfish before. I'd always been curious, I'd heard only good things about it. It had taken a lot of inner persuasion to convince myself to branch out from the reliable steak and chips option. Further more, I was in close proximity to somebody eating the steak and chips option. If this moment of spontaneous adventure were to backfire, there would be nowhere to hide from my mistake. On the plate, it all appeared a bit of a self assembly job. Somewhat like the beginning of Ready Steady Cook, before any cooking had taken place. Presumably the job of gelling the ingredients together to form some sort of meal lay with the lemon compote. The swordfish was very well cooked. It tasted like chickeny salmon, which was a nice combination of two things I very much enjoy on their own. The truffle potatoes were good too, rich and earthy, even if their purple colour was initially a little diconcerting. The green beans were excellent, slightly al dente with a good crunch to them. The problem was that despite the high quality of these indegredients in their own right, there was nothing briging them together other than the strong use of lemon. The lemon compote was sort of blobbed about the plate, and the dish came with an additional segment in case you hadn't had your fill of it. It was too solid, it didn't bring any of the individual items together. It was a Sunday roast without gravy, or cornflakes without milk. It isn't as if lemon and fish is a particularly groundbreaking combination at the best of times, but it was all in all a poor and quite lazy accompanyment to what were essentially good ingredients.
aaa
For desert we both ordered strawberry pavlova, largely as a result of the intruige of how good a pavolva containing out of season strawberries could really be. The merengue itself could have done with being a bit chewier, it had the consistency of those premade supermarket bases you find at family summer barbeques. The strawberries themselves however, were far tastier and flavoursome than I had expected, and the coolis that was drizzled across the dish was tangy and delicious. Overall, it was a light, tasty desert that went a long way to atone for the slightly disappointing main course.
sss
Verdict: Black Tiles is a really nice place to sit, there are five areas, one outside, which are all decorated beautifully. Whilst I did feel that some of the dishes available smacked of the kitchen trying to cook beyond their means, throwing words like 'compote' and 'coolis' unecessarily in to the equation, their simpler dishes looked extremely appetising and it is certainly recommended.

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