MICHELLE TOMPKINS swans down to have a taste of inn’s cuisine... but finds she’d have been better off with a pint

Old Swan Inn, 7 Burford Street,
Lechlade on Thames Gl7 3AP
Tel: 01367 253571 Website: swaninnlechlade.co.uk

‘WORK is the curse of the drinking classes’ said the Oscar Wilde quote painted on a beam at the Old Swan Inn at Lechlade, and I should have taken that as a hint that booze, not food, is the pub’s forte.

That, and the fact that while the bar area was sounding lively on the Wednesday night I dropped in, my friends and I were the only diners all evening in the lonely restaurant next door. It seems I needn’t have booked after all.

First impressions were promising. The quirky decor — old gramophones and brass instruments juxtaposed with bunches of dusty, dried hops — made me think this place might be a break from the mould, somewhere offering a respite from the usual fried foods and pub grub.

An initial glance at the menu gave me hope too — an intriguingly-named dish called ‘posh pigs’ was among the starters and the main menu listed a chorizo stuffed chicken breast in something called ‘panko crumb’... I love it when I have to Google new ingredients to find out what they are (a Japanese breadcrumb, in case you’re wondering).

The optimist in me began to think I was about to uncover a hidden foodie gem.

The first hint that this might not be the case came soon after, though, when our very sweet and very young waitress explained that there was no cold Pinot Grigio, but we could have some ice in it if that helped? It didn’t, but eventually she unearthed a bottle of sauvignon blanc (£21.50) which had been in the fridge and we settled down to decide what to eat.

Those posh pigs revealed as nothing posher than sausages wrapped in bacon, two of us decided against a starter but the third went for a dish of chilli and garlic prawns (£5.95).

We had visions of something like the sizzling gambas pil pil served up as Spanish tapas, but what came was sadly nothing like it.

A huge dessert bowl of tiny prawns — clearly only just defrosted — sat in a watery broth with a few flecks of red chilli dotted among them. They were cold, too, so my friend asked for them to be heated, after which they were slightly more edible but still resembled, in her words, “those witchetty grubs they eat in the jungle”. She decided not to bother.

The main courses were marginally more successful, but that margin is very small.

The fish and chips was reasonably priced at £7.50, but the old adage ‘you get what you pay for’ came into play.

The cod fillet looked like a Captain Birdseye special and the chips were standard frozen fayre — all perfectly edible but nothing to write home about.

My 8oz sirloin steak (£16.95) was cooked medium rare as I’d asked but was very fatty given the price.

I’d asked for a bigger salad instead of chips, but what I got was an extra two tomatoes on top of the two already included, which made for a bizarre-looking plate of mostly red food.

The most successful dish of the evening was a goat’s cheese, pear and walnut salad (£6.50), which the other two of us looked upon with some considerable food envy.

A huge bowlful of leaves was topped with a quartered pear, a whole grilled round of cheese and a generous handful of nuts. A balsamic dressing drizzled over the lot made for a tasty-looking plate, and very good value too.

Teas and coffees took our bill up to £60, which seemed rather a lot given the standard of the food. There was no offer to reduce the bill for the uneaten prawns but, with the drinkers next door preoccupying the staff and no one around to complain to, we decided to leave without making a fuss.

I might go back some time, but only for a drink. The people in the bar looked like they were having far more fun.