The Lodge Restaurant - Tastiest food by a country mile

It's not as if I'm unfamiliar with the place, I drive past on a regular basis. But here we are, got it wrong again, and I'm reaching for reverse gear. Story of my life, really.

However, by way of mitigation, allow me to make two observations. First of all, it was dark. Okay, a bit feeble, that one. But also, the Blakelands has always been the sort of place that whispers about its presence rather than shouts about it.

No neon signs or garish lighting here. Just a small tasteful sign at the entrance, and an A-board on the grass verge further up the road – after visitors approaching from the north-easterly direction have driven past. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. Nothing should spoil the effortless serenity of this place.

Driving along the winding gravel drive, past the lily pond, it feels more like visiting a friend's house in the country rather than arriving at a restaurant. Indeed, to some degree, you are. The Blakelands, which in parts dates back to the mid-1500s, has been home to the Morgan family since 1980. And the impressive guest house, restaurant and wedding venue which occupies the site today started from quite modest beginnings when Doreen Morgan began selling cream teas and holding flower demonstrations.

The Lodge Restaurant, which is located in the old hay barn on the northern side of the 10-acre estate, is run by Doreen's daughter-in-law Heather Morgan and a small team, with the emphasis very much on personal service. So much so that they will only take one booking for each time slot, in order that staff can give their full attention to each customer when they arrive.

The evening began in the small cosy bar at the back of the restaurant, where we were invited to look through the menu over a drink. It would have been nice to have been shown the wine list before being asked what we wanted, though – an oversight which seems to have happened at quite a few venues lately.

And in the case of the Lodge, they are missing a trick too, because it is the superb choice of locally sourced food and drink which really sets it apart from lesser places.

First of all, there is the excellent Enville Ale on tap at the bar. This beautiful honey beer is one of the finest in the Midlands, and is brewed just five miles up the road in the neighbouring village. Yet compared to some of the wines on the list, this is positively exotic. You can buy wine which is grown in the fields on the opposite side of the road – how many places in Britain can offer you that?

There is also an historic link. The neighbouring Halfpenny Green Vineyard is run by relatives of the Bolland family, who once lived at the Blakelands. You don't have to drink local if you don't want to, of course. There is a superb range of wines from the four corners of the world, covering all price ranges, including a house champagne at £9.10 a glass. But if you do go down this route, you will be missing out. While English wines might still lack the cachet of those from the more established countries, the Halfpenny Green wines are right up there with the best – as testified by the number of awards they have picked up in recent years.

We decided to share a bottle of Halfpenny Green's Black Country Gold, a superb white wine which exceeded all expectations. I was slightly doubtful given the descripton of it as being 'on the sweet side of medium', but such fears were totally ungrounded. Made from a blend of Huxelrebe, Faber and Regner grapes – varieties more commonly associated with Germany – it has a fresh, fruity muscat-like taste, with a gentle acidity. Don't fall intot the trap of thinking the home-grown wines are a budget alternative though. Our bottle of Black Country Gold was £21.30, and that is the cheapest wine from Halfpenny Green.

The local produce theme continues with the food menu. Many of the fruits are grown on site in the grounds of the Blakelands, the beef is sourced from nearby farms and there is cheese from Shropshire. The highly-rated Gressingham Duck, specially bred in East Anglia by crossing the wild mallard with the Pekin to produce a bird with more succulent, flavoursome meat, is also on offer, and there is a supplementary menu offering extra seasonal choices such as venison, pork and red wine sausage or pork-belly-and-black-pudding rosti cake.

A hard decision, but I plumped for a pie made from Pattingham beef and Enville Ale – how local can you get? – while the girlfriend went for a fillet steak in a red wine, mushroom and shallot infusion.

After around three quarters of an hour on the comfortable sofa in the restful lounge bar, we were led through the long, winding corridor to our table in the main restaurant area, where we were told our main course would be with us shortly. Before that, though we were invited to tuck into some complimentary fresh bread and – testament to the attention to detail – even the butter was a cut above.

The restaurant is beautifully furnished, providing a comfortable relaxing environment, but with just the right amount of rustic charm. The exposed brickwork at the end of the room reminds us that it used to be a farm building, without overstating the case, and the substantial oak-framed mirror adds a touch of class. The soft lighting and soft music adds to the serenity, while the thick, white tablecloth and napkins are also reassuringly plush. My favourite touch of all though is the design of the beautifully carved light wood chairs, with their arched backs, unlike anything I have seen before. My only question mark surrounded the white curtains in the middle of the room – presumably they are there to provide extra privacy for intimate occasions, but they look just a little too chintzy for my taste.

At £15.90 the pie is certainly on the expensive side, and at this price the customer is entitled to expect something a little bit special. It was.

Not special in the quirky or exotic sense, it was no Heston Blumenthal concoction, but special in the way I like it. Special in that it was very good. Beneath the brittle puff pastry lid lies a hearty helping of delightfully soft, tender and succulent meat, of a texture which can only come from slow cooking. More than that though, real care seems to have gone into the gravy, which had a delicious hint of ale in it, without taking anything away from the meat.

The steak, too was hard to fault, lean, tender and beautifully cooked. The chef's signature sauce clearly made great use of fresh, local ingredients, with the only gripe being that it would have been nice to have had a dash more jus in it.

The vegetables were fresh and crispy without being in any way hard or lumpy, and the thick-cut, twice-cooked chips were a real work of beauty. Chunky, crisp and golden, they also presented something of a dilemma – my tastebuds wanted more, many more, but by stomach was telling me I had eaten quite enough already.

Were I of a sensible disposition, I would have called it a day immediately after the main course. But anybody who knows me will tell you I am anything but, so inevitably we were going to order desserts.

And anyway, on this occasion I'm glad that the sweet-toothed monster got the better of me. The sticky toffee pudding was truly scrumptious, one of the best, if not the best, I have experienced in ages. Soft and fluffy, with a wonderfully gooey, sweet sauce, it might have been naughty but it was definitely nice. The Madagascan ice cream and Cotswold cream weren't bad, either.

But the real surprise was the lemon curd and almond bakewell tart, 'lovingly made by our friend Gill'. It sounds a strange combination, but my girlfriend thought it was the bee's knees.

And there was one more pleasant surprise at the end. The total bill came to £79.70, which I think is more than reasonable for a meal of this calibre.

The service was superb, the food perfect, and the surroundings pretty close to faultless.

We'll be back. And next time I might remember where the entrance is.

Mark Andrews