The Garlic Press, Arclid: Alan Cookman's restaurant review

FOR the caller who rang the office to say that he was sick and tired of reading about Herself and The Son & Heir, I have some good news and some bad news.

The good news is that The Son & Heir has left the country.

The bad news is that Herself hasn't, although I'm working on it (just kidding, dear).

I only mention this because our visit to The Garlic Press was by way of a farewell dinner combined with an early Father's Day meal.

With The Son & Heir about to decamp for an indefinite sojourn in the Mystic Orient, I felt justified in suspending my ongoing mission to seek out recession-mocking deals for the cash-strapped.

On this occasion alone, I suppressed my natural frugality and didn't even bother to enquire about the possible existence of an inclusive budget menu.

None was offered, as it happens, but the management may have pencilled me in as a big spender and decided not to risk my flouncing out in a fit of pique. A member of my network of scouts had told me that The Garlic Press was "pricey but good," which I always find vastly more reassuring than "pricey but rubbish."

It's a sign of the enlightened times we're living in, by the way, that a venue has the self-confidence to include the word 'garlic' in its name' (thankfully, people who recoil from garlic like vampires are now almost as endangered as vampires).

And if you're wondering, as I once did, why a tiny hamlet of 200 souls in South Cheshire should be named after a Greek mathematician, the name is Arclid, not Euclid.

The restaurant stands on a crossroads, occupying premises that used to be The Rose & Crown pub. The decor is plain white, with blue lighting effects and some interesting bas-relief sculptures.

For appetisers, we ordered mixed olives (£2.95), and a large flat garlic bread (£3.95), as well as a crunchy Caesar salad (£3.95) to share. It was generously layered with tangy Parmesan shavings and enhanced by a delicious dressing.

Herself skipped starters, leaving me to toy with a tuna salad (£6.50) of no great distinction, while The Son & Heir chose some excellent calamari (£7.95), properly textured squid rings in a light and crispy batter.

In good Italian restaurants I always like to check out the risotto, and here the risotto paesana (£8.95), a rich dish of meaty arborio rice with chicken, wild mushrooms, tomato etc, was worth checking out.

Herself spoke highly of her penne Milano (£9.95), tubes of pasta with strips of fillet steak and mushrooms in a creamy tomato sauce.

Given his pick of the menu, The Son & Heir predictably chose the dish that I expect is the favourite of millionaire footballers whose mansions are but a short drive from here in the Bentley.

In other words, he ordered filetto gamberoni (£19.95) a wild extravagance, I hear you cry. I cried, too, but I consoled myself with the thought that it will be months before I next pick up his tab. For 5p less than twenty quid, he got a majestic fillet of beef, thick, tender and medium rare, topped with king prawns and served with a spicy chilli sauce. He said if it made me feel better it was worth every penny of £19.95.

We all finished with the scrumptious house tiramisu (£4.95), a confection which I find increasingly hard to resist.

My scout said "pricey but good" and he was right, although some elements of the meal were good but maybe a little too pricey in the present climate.

So next week I will resume my crunch-busting and visit the place recommended by another scout where you get two meals for £1, plus free champagne, a massage and a ride home in a stretch limo.

Watch this space.