We were just hammering the last nails into the ark when the

rain stopped, the clouds parted and the sun came out.

It was weird bordering on the miraculous, but sensing that

it might only have been a brief respite in the ongoing deluge,

we piled into the car and set the sat-nav for Salt.

For there isn't a prettier sight in the county than The

Holly Bush Inn drying out after a summer downpour.

After the rain it looks more than ever like something

created for an MGM movie.

The profusion of scented blooms that envelop the thatched

building seem to glisten and glow in the sunlight (stop me if

I'm being too flowery).

For such an out of the way venue, The Holly Bush is easily

one of the most popular eating places in Staffordshire, as well

as one of the prettiest.

It's also one of the most decorated - as in honoured, not

frequently repainted - and deservedly so too. I'd list its

awards, but it would take a special supplement.

Dating from the 14th century, it's reputed to be one of the

oldest licensed premises in England, and there's certainly an

air of antiquity about the beautifully preserved interior, with

its solid beams, exposed brickwork and cosy nooks and

crannies.

Arriving during that break in the seemingly endless

downpours, we found the car park full even on a Wednesday

evening.

Making the most of the dry interlude, many were dining in

the garden. Inside, it was practically standing room only -

there's no booking at The Holly Bush - and it's a credit to the

management that nobody gets seated out of turn.

When you arrive, a super-efficient young man somehow manages

to memorise everyone's exact place in the scheme of things, and

makes certain that the table that's rightfully yours is yours

the minute it becomes available.

With so much going for it, it seems positively freakish that

on our last visit to The Holly Bush I had cause for complaint.

It was about a rabbit that had been holed below the waterline.

I'd ordered rabbit casserole, but when I turned over one of the

joints there was an ugly black hole where the flesh should have

been. This rabbit had not so much been shot as torpedoed.

It was disappointing, for I am mightily partial to rabbit

and you can't often get it, but it wasn't enough to ruin an

otherwise perfect meal.

For old time's sake, though, I thought I'd order rabbit

again (The Holly Bush proudly announces that it is "licensed to

sell game"), but none was available on this occasion. And

though I was tempted by the guinea fowl listed on the specials

board, I finally settled for the braised venison (£9.25).

Who needs rabbit? It was delicious, tender meat in the

richest imaginable sauce, served with a jacket potato and a

selection of fresh vegetables, including swede, aubergine,

courgettes and mangetout.

I'd started with the tasty house pate (£3.95), but also

helped the Son and Heir shift his vast bowl of Torbay mussels

(£7.50) in a creamy cider and garlic sauce. "It's for sharing

really," said the barman when I placed the order. And we did

share it. Four of us.

The Girlfriend also had mussels, but the green shelled

variety (£3.95) in a tomato, basil and garlic sauce, while

Herself had the calves liver in garlic butter (£4.25).

While I got on the outside of the braised venison and

accompaniments, The Girlfriend was making an heroic effort, but

failing miserably, to shift two huge pork chops with a honey

and whole grain mustard glaze (£9.25).

Like many of the dishes on the menu, the provenance of the

pork - in this case the Packington free range herd - is

advertised. We thought the Packington pigs must be the size of

cows. Ever one to assist a damsel in distress, I nobly

volunteered to help her make an impression on the super-chops.

Unfortunately, by this time the Son and Heir was struggling to

finish an exemplary T-bone steak (£13.95), so I shared two main

courses and a starter, as well as my own meal.

Given the size of the portions, there was little danger of

any of us ordering dessert, and the selection of hand-made

cheeses (£4.95) beckoned in vain.

You may be wondering by the way, which dish Herself chose

for mains. It was grilled brill fillets with tomato

chutney.

"What was the fish like?" I said.

"Brill" she replied.

Tee-hee.

This review was first published in Sentinel Sunday on

July 07, 2007.