Review: The Plough & Harrow, Walsall

Mooli, dukkah, baba ghanoush, sumac . . . Am I talking jibberish?

What about pesto, goat's cheese, pancetta, aïoli, hand-cut triple-cooked chips, scallops? More like it?

All are – or have been – trendy. If foods had to strut their stuff on the catwalks of Milan, New York and Japan then sumac, mooli and baba ghanoush would be where it's at. Alexa Chung, Anna Wintour and RiRi would be swimming in them like Cleopatra bathing in milk.

Like fashion designers, top chefs seek out new ways to thrill diners, introducing them to ingredients and dishes from far-flung corners of the world, or reworking ones we've long forgotten.

The less wacky ideas filter down the food chain and before you know it you're ordering pesto on your Subway and Burger King starts to triple cook its chips.

Actually, pesto's a great example of this. Twenty years ago it was the pasta sauce for posh people. Now it's the kitchen cupboard equivalent to a pair of jeans. They even sell it in the pound shop.

A good benchmark of which new ingredients could eventually make their way in to our own kitchen is the gastro pub menu. Appear on the menu of this kind of place and, having passed the 'not too weird' test, it's next stop Tesco and Harvester.

So to The Plough & Harrow, near Aldridge, where the menu reads like 'food trends of the last 20 years'. In fact, if you type that very phrase into Wikipedia, I think a picture of The Plough & Harrow pops up.

That's no bad thing; it only goes to show how far we've come. Some ingredients, which once seemed as chic as a pair of Manolo Blahniks become the comfy slippers of the food world.

Dishes like scallops – right on trend 10 years ago – look standard, but still appealing stuff, next to new kids on the block like hazelnut dukkah.

But before I assess the menu, let's look at the surroundings. It's pleasant, welcoming, stylish but inclusive; a recipe that's been replicated up and down the land and is certainly successful.

There are roaring fires, blond wood, smiling bar staff . . . I won't go on because I know you've probably eaten somewhere very similar.

My friend and I arrived for an early supper and were the first in the dining room. It felt a little atmosphereless but that changed when the restaurant began to fill up.

A waitress brought us drinks while we cast our eye over the menus which included festive options and specials of the day. There were complimentary nibbles – a portion of silky, smoky baba ghanoush and some shards of crostini to smear it on. A nice touch.

The menu reworks British classics adding touches of the Med, Middle East and Asia.

Starters included tempting arancini risotto balls; spiced lamb koftas, and salt and pepper squid – all very on-trend in gastroland.

I fancied the scallops of the day having not eaten them for a lifetime. I'd sworn myself off them after they became ubiquitous with this sort of dining. It became an all-too smug menu entry, served with its smudge of pea puree or chunk of chorizo or black pud. Like that person who turns up to every party looking glossy and perfect – you just get sick of seeing their face. I felt that way about scallops.

Here it came with pancetta-wrapped asparagus spears and pesto dressing. All trend boxes ticked.

My pal ordered from the festive menu plumping for the roast parsnip soup and fresh bread.

We happily chatted and nibbled on the garlicky crostini and aubergine spread while awaiting our starters which took long enough to know they'd been freshly cooked.

Both dishes looked elegant and we couldn't wait to tuck in.

I was impressed by my scallops; undoubtedly the highlight of the meal. They'd been skillfully seared but remained translucent inside.

At £9.50 it was the most expensive starter but proved worth it for the three sweet shellfish medallions. The oily basil pesto was flavoursome and the pancetta around the asparagus deeply savoury. My only gripe was the veg was overcooked and stringy. It was edible; in that I ate it but it was the most disappointing element of the dish.

My friend's soup arrived with a swirl of spiced crème fraîche and a neat chunk of white bread. She said it was delicious and not too creamy, allowing the natural sweetness of the root veg to prevail. The bread, she reported, was tasty and was just the right amount to mop up the last of the soup.

The dining area had begun to fill up and we savoured the welcome buzz to the place while we digested our starters.

Main course options that appealed included the duck salad with the aformentioned mooli, sesame seeds and a plum and hoisin dressing; lamb rump with asparagus, chorizo and dauphinoise potatoes, and the sage and butternut squash gnocchi. There were also pub classics given a posh twist like the beef and rioja pie, and ale battered haddock and chips. It's a place you could easily please the whole family, but is still a cut above the standard pub chains.

My friend stuck to the festive selection and chose the goat's cheese, red onion and spinach strudel, while I was intrigued by the wholefood salad with chicken.

Once again, the presentation was spot on; the chicken breast atop a pile of enticing-looking greens.

My friend lapped up her goat's cheese strudel which was served on a bed of roasted mushrooms in a tomato sauce. It came with an additional serving of mashed root veg and Brussels sprouts.

"It might not look huge but with the added vegetables it makes a substantial vegetarian main course," she said.

The spinach layer added extra texture to her strudel, she said, and the vegetable suet pastry perfectly crumbly.

"The Brussels sprouts were fine and I really liked the mashed roots as, once again, they weren't spoiled with too much cream or butter."

My salad was more than ample comprising spinach, green beans, asparagus, pomegranate seeds and a couple of unnecessary wedges of pink grapefruit. I'd rather have seen chunks of roasted pumpkin or squash. However, the salad had been nicely seasoned and benefitted from a good handful of toasted cumin and sesame seeds.

This time the pieces of asparagus were perfectly cooked and added good crunch and substance to the salad. Disappointingly, the poultry had been over-cooked and was dry. It was such a shame after the scallops had been cooked so sensitivity.

Plates took a while to be cleared; once the place had started to fill it felt that our table became a bit of a forgotten nook.

We moved on to pudding with my friend snubbing the festive selection after spotting the sticky toffee pud on the a la carte menu. I, meanwhile, chose the achingly hip fro-yo and seasonal berries. We also ordered two teas.

A well-judged portion of toffee cake arrived, drizzled in just enough sauce and one scoop of vanilla ice cream. I didn't get a look in, so I can only assume it hit the spot.

"Sticky toffee pud is always good," she purred, a grin of satisfaction spreading across her face.

My frozen yogurt was satisfactory but lacked the acidity I craved. Of the three generous boules, the one buried at the bottom appeared to be mango flavour (although I am not sure if this was intentional or because they'd run out of the other stuff – I suspect the latter). However, this flavour was the nicest of the lot, forcing me to eat my way through the other scoops to get to it. Damn it.

The fruit was remarkable only because it was bitter enough to make me look like Judy Murray when Andy's on a loser. It filled a hole but failed to wow me.

The bill came to just over £60 which included a large bottle of sparkling water. I felt this was reasonable for the quality of food, service and surroundings.

The Plough & Harrow might have some trendy little additions to its menu but generally it serves people food they want to eat. It's a tough act to pull off but this place just about manages it.