The Pear Tree at Purton
Church End, Purton SN5 4ED
Tel: 01793 772100 Website: peartreepurton.co.uk

GILL HARRIS finally heads to The Pear Tree and finds it more than deserves the hype

EVER since I moved to Swindon about 10 years ago, I’ve heard whisperings of how good The Pear Tree at Purton is.

It’s spoken of in those hushed and reverent tones reserved for places that really are that little bit special.

So it’s been hovering high on my foody bucket list for roughly 78,840 hours.

New year, new broom and all that, and one of my resolutions was to stop procrastinating so much — and so it was I finally picked up the telephone and booked a table for 7.30pm on a Saturday evening.

After a fortnight of forensically examining the menu online, the big day arrived, we deposited the dog with some friends for the evening and set off for the pretty village of Purton.

Slightly embarrassingly (I blame the dog whose playdate was on the early side), we were almost an hour early.... well after all those hours of procrastination, consider it a last-ditch attempt to make up for lost time, if only by 50 minutes.

The staff, however, were not remotely fazed and thus began an evening of being treated like kings.

We were shown to the bar area, which like the rest of this former vicarage, is tastefully done out. When I say bar, think more stylist lounge area than pubbish snug.

Despite its classic English, upper class style, The Pear Tree is delightfully un-snooty — this is a place where you can bring your pooch for dinner if you wish, although guests with canine chums dine in the bar, not the restaurant. Even so, I spotted plenty of scope for hound-based damage among the soft furnishings, occasional tables and comfy sofas and was glad our party only boasted two-legged members.

Having made ourselves at home, we were left to peruse the drinks menus — and focused on the one dedicated to a mouthwatering selection of gins, describing a small garden-full of flavours, from cucumbers to blueberries to lemon to rosehips.

Some complimentary nuts added to the enjoyment as we gazed at the main menu, which I already knew by heart by now thanks to the internet.

Having ordered, we relaxed a while longer before being shown to our table in the elegant conservatory dining room.

Sadly, it being January, it was dark and so I missed out on the grounds which by all accounts are rather splendid, featuring a wild flower bank, lily pond, copse of native oaks, beehives and a 600 vine vineyard.

To start with, my companion chose the pink wood pigeon breast, with oak roasted tomato balsamic, apple salad and English air-dried ham (£7) which was also my first choice. Damn.

The pigeon was tender and flavoursome, and perfectly complimented by the balsamic and apples.

I went for the double-baked cheese souffle, with fig chutney and ruby chard (£6.50) which proved an excellent second choice. Light, fluffy and a delight to the senses, I devoured it in what felt like seconds. I could happily have feasted on it all night.

For mains, I had creedy carver duck breast with chilli and thyme potato rosti, griottine cherry and kale (£19) and it was one of the dishes that really knocks your socks off.

The duck was sublime, pungent with flavour and beautifully pink. The rosti was the best I’ve ever tasted, flavoursome and crisp, and those boozy cherries added a wild and wicked kick that brought the whole dish together.

My friend had the roast hake fillet with barley risotto, cornish salami and cockle vinaigrette, which was also a roaring success.

The fish flaked beautifully and the salami and cockle vinaigrette gave it that extra pizzazz.

When food’s this good you can’t stop at just two courses. Oh no. Bring on the dessert menu.

My sweet-toothed companion chose the raspberry and yoghurt mousse with passion fruit cream and candied lime peel (£7), which when it arrived looked like a joyous pink explosion of a kiddy’s trifle. Light and fruity yet with a creamy richness, it really was very, very good.

I prefer the savoury side of things and chose the cheeseboard (£9) and a glass of port (£3.50). The waiter presented the cheeses, giving a description of each and allowing me to choose which ones to try (all of them, of course). And they were the creme de la creme of cheeses, from creamy local goat’s cheese to earthy organic Cheddar.

Disappointingly our three-course affair had come to an end and we had no choice but to stop eating and settle our bill, which came to £96 — very reasonable given that it included pre-dinner drinks, three courses and two glasses of wine.

Stretching our legs afterwards, I bumped into the owner in the library, whose passion for The Pear Tree was clear to see.

She proudly showed me the gnarled old fireplace, which dates to 1430, when Henry VI and Joan of Arc were gadding about.

In fact, the building has a fascinating history — it was moved brick by brick 400 yards from St Mary’s churchyard in 1911/12, apparently because the graves had begun to encroach on the house.

In 1987, its present owners, whose CV includes time at the Savoy and working for King Hussein of Jordan, bought it from the Diocese of Bristol.

It wasn’t a simple task — the house had been neglected, having been home to squatters, and the Diocese insisted no alcohol be served and all profits should go to the Church of England. Happily for us, the Dicoese didn’t get its way and so the Pear Tree’s success story began.

And with exquisite food, faultless service and stunning surroundings, it’s a story likely to continue for a very long time.

To ensure the integrity of our reviews, all our critics dine as paying customers without the restaurant’s knowledge (unless otherwise stated). Photographs are taken at a later date