The Snowdrop

It is with a first-of-the-month spring in our step that we make our way to the Snowdrop. I keep fixating on the idea of pie. My companion vows to have ‘anything but salad’. Inside the sun is streaming through the windows and one of the doors is ajar: a change of season is in the air. We take a table in the dappled sunlight and examine the menu. Chicken and leek pie. Perfect. But then I’m thrown when I spot fish pie too. And what about the specials board? Wild boar sausages - I’d never had them until recently and now I wonder if it’s too soon to repeat the experience. “I’m quite tempted by the beef and truffle oil salad”, says my companion, “But I thought you said… Never mind”.

Eventually I go for my first instinct, we both do. Two chicken and leek pies with chips and salad. Rather sheepishly I ask if we can take pictures for a review. The barman looks surprised. “And you’re not trying anything else?” he says. I shake my head. But when they come they’re worth every moment of embarrassment. Topped with light puff pastry and filled with oozing chicken and leek in a mustard sauce. Chips cut thick and just the right side of crispy. The salad plentiful - none of that limp iceberg lettuce and cucumber ensemble. I wash mine down with a large orange juice and lemonade. Not exactly designed to enhance the palate but it’s what I drank at pub lunches as a child. We called it a ‘55’. I’m not sure why. Something to do with the relative percentage of liquids I suppose. ER