Gloriously grand at the Tontine

Years of toiling at a steaming Saturday night sink gave way – once I was less wet behind the ears – to waiting on at tables at the Tont, until at 18 I flew the nest and hung up my bistro apron for the last time.

Although I’d returned once or twice to dine in the intervening quarter century, it was too long ago for me to be able to compare and contrast with the post-McCoy brothers era.

The three men who made the venue’s culinary reputation after their arrival in the 1970s have now moved on to run pubs short distances from the place with which they will forever be associated – Peter and Tom to the south at the Haynes Arms, and more recently Eugene up the road to the Crathorne Arms.

Meanwhile, massive investment by North-East sub-sea engineering magnate Charles Tompkins and wife Angela preceded the Tontine’s re-opening last summer.

Named after the obscure and somewhat morbid survivor- takes-all investment agreement that saw its foundation, it’s a solid early 19th century former coaching house landmark by the A19 close to Osmotherley. It remains a fascinating building with seven “boutique” bedrooms.

Entering on the last Thursday before Christmas through the rather Beverly Hills new entrance up into a slightly garish reception area (where my 14-year-old self had once tugged a forelock), it was reassuring to find that the first person I saw was one of the last I’d worked with there in the early 1990s. Housekeeper Judith Stephenson confers consistency in an era of change.

Seated near the fire in the Champagne Bar with its painted panels, we take a drink and drink in the menus. These are nicely presented and extremely appetising, with three or four deliciously described components per dish.

Canapes of mini shepherd’s pies helped sharpen our appetites in the rather long wait between sitting down and being shown to our table downstairs in the bistro.

This is very much as I remembered, with the fascinating and slightly bonkers ceiling and its grapevine motif, huge stone fireplace and dark wood dressers.

Nice white table linen is an upgrade from my old days.

The adjacent conservatory would make for a sunny lunch spot, if it’s insulated enough from the trunk road traffic noise. Two further rooms elsewhere in the building offer gorgeous possibilities for private dining.

Thin mini bread batons, good butter and puffed sweetcorn snacks arrive just ahead of the starters, with the former in an enamel tin mug and the latter in a miniature lidded jar. Why? I just don’t trust gimmicky presentation.

Anna’s roasted squash soup (£8.95) also arrived in one of these mugs, with neat nutmeg gnocchi and Parmesan slivers on the side. I promise the receptacle didn’t cloud my judgment, but the soup was bland and disappointing.

The gnocchi were cute, but there’d been too light a touch with the promised black truffle.

My partridge (breast and braised leg) with cauliflower, pickled cabbage (£8.95) was much more interesting, but a fancy batter on the florets didn’t really add anything.

Main courses were more even, with a strong showing from Anna’s smoked pork fillet and crisped belly pork (£17.95). The meat was cut with geometrical precision and presented with a baked cherry and a wedge of salted toffee apple.

My choice of stone bass from the day’s specials (£20.95) was a tasty, balanced plate, although I’d not encountered stringy samphire before.

A side dish of sugar snaps and thin green beans added welcome colour and crunch to the meal.

The glasses of Spanish white proved to be a good accompaniment (I’d asked for help from our waiter and he chose well).

It was with the dessert menu that head chef James Cooper and his team had really stretched the tempting descriptions: my lemongrass and chamomile panna cotta, coconut cannelloni, confit pineapple, banana and yoghurt sorbet and sesame tuile (£7.95) was three-inone and good companions.

My wife’s chocolate and amaretto cheesecake, chocolate and mandarin sorbet and coffee custard (£6.95) were also well chosen combinations of flavours, similarly well presented.

Overall, we were left with the impression that no one dish really lived up to its sumptuous menu billing – there were no “wow!” moments of taste explosion. At this price point, and with the competition the Tontine has not too far from its doorstep, I had expected more.

A glass of Prosecco, two glasses of wine (£18.40 for the three) and a fizzy water brought the bill to £88.60. A teatime menu on Sunday and Monday evenings currently offers two courses for £18, three for £22.

Service was polite and efficient, but a little too relaxed and disinterested. It failed to live up to the excellent attention to detail promised by my initial call to book the table – I was asked if our visit was for a special occasion and when my mobile phone rudely dropped the connection, I was promptly called back.

Yet again we are left asking why really exceptional service right the way through the dining experience is so hard to find?

Nevertheless it remained a good meal in gloriously grand surroundings. It’s pleasing to see that some serious investment, love and attention has been lavished on the place. I was just glad I didn’t have to get on my bike to return home.

Staddlebridge, Northallerton, DL6 3JB
Telephone: 01609 882671
Website: theclevelandtontine.co.uk
Open for meals: noon-2.30pm every day; 6.30-9pm Sun-Thu; 6.30-9.30pm Fri & Sat
Limited access for disabled at the moment.

RATINGS
Food quality: 7
Service: 7
Surroundings: 8
Value: 7