The New Inn, Betchton, Sandbach: The Cookman Review

Glowing like a beacon in the dark, no country inn ever

looked more inviting than this one.

We'd spent an hour driving around Sandbach in an abortive

bid to find a venue allegedly located in Sweettooth Lane.

In the end, the loved ones were sceptical about the

existence of both venue and location.

I was accused of leading them on a wild goose chase, of

being duped by hoaxers into frittering away an evening looking

for a street that sounded like something out of children's

fiction.

"Mr Marzipan lived in Sweettooth Lane, just round the corner

from Peppermint Park."

Voices were raised. The search was abandoned, and I realised

I had a mutiny on my hands.

Outvoted two-to-one, I had to agree to settle for fish and

chips on the way home.

So the sight of this roadside pub and restaurant, lit up and

promising good food in a warm and cosy atmosphere was one to

gladden the heart.

It wasn't in Sweettooth Lane, but that didn't matter. Even

the loved ones lost interest in fish and chips as soon as it

hove into view on the Newcastle road out of Sandbach.

By an odd coincidence, considering we ate in a fish

restaurant last week, albeit a Turkish one, The New Inn

specialises in fish and seafood, including crab and

lobster.

There's a smart restaurant called Candles, but we were happy

to dine in the long bar area, with its big windows and views of

the countryside.

The locals were friendly and the management and staff were

polite and helpful without being over-attentive.

The girl who looked after us never once asked: "Is

everything all right with your meals?," a question which always

suggests to me that the waitress suspects that everything might

not be all right with my meal.

As well as the fresh fish and other dishes on the specials

board, the regular menu includes what are called "classic

favourites," grills, cuisine from the Continent and beyond and

choices for kids and veggies.

I started with moules marini?re (£4.95), a great big dish of

same. The mussels were in good nick, too, although the liquid

was lukewarm, a word used by Herself to describe her black

pudding with mustard sauce (£3.95).

She said the sauce was bland, rather like flour and water,

tasting too little of mustard to be properly advertised a

mustard sauce.

The Son and Heir had chosen the whitebait (£3.95) and these

were excellent, good sized fish, well cooked and served with

salad, tartare sauce and brown bread and butter.

He followed this with a thick sirloin steak (£12.95) that

looked so rare I was tempted to suggest that a good vet might

have saved it. But the boy likes his beef bloody and he rated

the steak among the best he?s had.

It came with peas, tomato, mushrooms and onion rings (one

restaurant chain may have withdrawn onion rings from its menus,

but it thrives elsewhere).

From the fish selection, Herself ordered the halibut with

prawns and mushrooms (£12.95) and said it was literally good in

parts - the halibut that is. While parts of it were well

cooked, firm and tasty, others were rather slimy and

unpleasant.

It was obviously not her lucky night because my own choice

of main course - a sheep - was outstanding.

I exaggerate slightly when I say sheep because it was the

biggest lamb henry (£11.95) I've ever tackled, although it was

no effort to remove the sweet and tender meat from the

bone.

It could best be described as a joint of lamb, suitable for

a family of four. It defeated me.

Our meals came with seasonal vegetables, cooked al dente,

and although some of the desserts on offer were hard to resist,

none of us had room for pudding.

By the way, I have not yet given up all hope of ever finding

the eaterie in Sweettooth Lane. It's not a name you could

really make up - not with any expectation of being taken

seriously.

So when the loved ones have recovered from our drive round

Sandbach in ever decreasing circles we will return.

Only before we do, we'll have state-of-the-art satellite

navigation installed in the Peugeot.

This review was first published in Sentinel Sunday on

October 8, 2006.