The Cook House
- Hannah
- Mar 11, 2016
- 2 min read
The Cook House
Ouse Road
Newcastle
It has been an emotional departure from London for my heart, but mainly for my stomach.
Our relocation, to north east, has found me searching (and more often than not struggling a little) to find the kind of food of the kind of quality I’d been spoilt by in South London.
That said, as with most things, the longer you are somewhere, the better you search, the more you overhear and the unsung heroes of a new location start to come into fruition.
Deciding on lunch at the Cookhouse with pal and associated toddlers, after a toddlercentric morning at seven stories, was safe to say my best decision of at least the month.
Cook House sits in the Ouseburn Valley, a creative river-front area of the city, a stonesthrow from the sunny farm at which i currently volunteer. Anna, The Grazer, has set up a delightful nest in a transformed old shipping container, Cook House’s kitchen/dining space is informal, airy and a total charmer. The charming woodburner taking the edge of a frosty lunchtime. It makes my constant dreams of turning an HGV/garden shed/industrial unit/boat/bus into a grazing spot seem much more achievable.
Strolling through the door of any charming looking food spot with a toddler under both mother’s arm, is always a dangerous and unpredictable move.
Today’s lunch menu was chalked on a blackboard above the stove, and i was more than reassured to see some dishes i know and love simply composed and written up there.
We had the smoked mackerel pate, a pork belly coriander aioli (that she’d obviously home-made, praise be) sandwich and a fennel, leek and yoghurt soup. All came with good quality sourdough, and well dressed side salads.
As a chef myself, i have been longing for this level of love in what are essential fairly simple but knowledgable and well balanced plates of food, my main crtisicim of the newcastle area so far would be the distinct tendency to fuss and overdo a menu in a horribly shiny over designed (so that is where the moneys gone) location.
This was miles away from that, each dish felt loved, and eating here was an absolute charm, as was the host herself, who had a strong selection of my personal favourite cookery books sat under the counter. She’s obviously well versed in good food, and it showed. Even our glass of homemade still lemonade brought a smile to our face.
Please excuse the lack of food photographs here, i was way to preoccupied eating, chatting, and spoon feeding the wonderful soup into my daughters happily receiving gob. Hurrah.
A note; The toddlers behaved, ate all their lunch with enthusiam, and that, if anything, is the best and harshest review, being that there was not a rice cake or a grape in sight, thank god.
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