A humble boiled egg makes MARION SAUVEBOIS forget her table manners when it turns up as part of a Michelin-starred tasting menu

“BOILED egg and soldier?!” I snorted - under my breath of course. I’d have hated to make a scene before the aperitifs had arrived.

“Maybe they’re trying to go old school, mix things up a bit?” my partner suggested, unfazed by said boiled egg and soldier ‘dish’ sandwiched between the far more refined and Michelin star- appropriate fillet of Roe venison and dessert, simply described as English strawberries (which come to think of it seemed a tad on the simple side too) on the six-course tasting menu.

Call me demanding, fussy, or downright stroppy but when I trek down perilously thin and windy country lanes, playing now you see now you don’t with jumbo Land Rovers and their devil-may-care drivers, to an exclusive Michelin star restaurant like The Harrow at Little Bedwyn, I expect such sumptuous fare I’ve never even heard of it.

I want consommés, reductions, deconstructed this, three-ways that, and plumes, better yet, an actual fog of nitrogen foam – the works. Failing that, at the very least elaborate concoctions I wouldn’t dream of whipping up at home. Which, given my dismal cooking skills and deadly aversion for anything that doesn’t come in a packet with heating instructions attached is not a big ask.

“It better be a quail’s egg, or ostrich,” I muttered after we’d placed our order (two £50 six-course tasting menus).

Cups of chilled watermelon and strawberry gazpacho with a lovely bite of ginger were soon laid out in front of us, and my partner sneakily changed the subject to the pleasant arms’ length service. One of his pet peeves dining at Michelin Star restaurants has always been the dire lack of breathing room. If you’re not tucked back into your napkin every time you so much as shift in your chair, a hawk-eyed waiter will beat you to the wine bucket whenever your hand so much as inches towards it. This is very well for people like me who love being coddled. But some don’t enjoy being fussed over like a child on his first outing to the restaurant and would much rather drape their own napkin over their crotch.

By the time our waitress returned with the second course, a verrine of cured Lock Duart salmon scattered on a generous bed of Torbay crab and capped with a sprig of sea blite, boiled egg-gate was far from my mind.

Followed succulent and stunningly presented deep fried Little Haven lobster halves; the shells resting on moreish lashings of carrot puree and sweet Thai Chili jam.

Then landed the piece de resistance: exquisite rare slices of Roe venison, like butter on the tongue, balanced on a generous slab of black pudding and served with a crisp potato and pea croquette.

I had almost forgotten all about the looming arrival of the boiled egg when our waitress cleared our licked clean plates, dragging me back to reality.

I needn’t have worried. The only remotely egg-like thing about it was the familiar ceramic cup it was served in. When she placed the pre-dessert with a flourish in front of me with scoffing instructions (“Push the spoon all the way down to break into the yolk”) I gave out such a squeal of surprise, I am certain I saw her flinch from the corner of my eye. The egg in question was made out of a yolk of passion fruit and mango chunks slathered in crème Anglaise and swaddled in fluffy Italian meringue (I grilled the waitress later about this marvel of gastronomy and engineering). Each layer and texture kept their integrity, like a real egg, throughout. In a very un-Michelin dining fashion, I plunged my finger in the cup and proceeded to coarsely scrub and lick every last gooey drop of yolk before polishing off the crumbly shortbread soldier. It was the least I could do to show my appreciation after bad-mouthing the chef’s dearth of imagination earlier.

I could not imagine how the actual dessert, the enigmatic ‘English strawberries’, would one-up the boiled egg. While it didn’t quite have the same wow factor, it was a mouth-watering treat in its own right. It not only ticked the ‘three-ways’ box but did one better: four ways. In order of (dis)appearance: a light panna cotta sprinkled with oats and topped with a tangy scoop of sorbet, a stunningly sharp parfait, a macaron shell (just the right amount of crispy, soft and chewy) on a thick dollop of white chocolate with a hint of passion fruit and, last but not least, a moist mini Victoria sponge.

Full to the gills, we swore off food for the rest of time – only making a teeny exception for the truffles served with our coffees. It would have been wasteful.

As we dawdled to the car, I went back full circle, blabbering on again about the boiled egg - in more flattering terms this time. If it were up to me, the egg alone would have upgraded The Harrow from one to two Michelin stars on the spot.

The Harrow at Little Bedwyn

Little Bedwyn, near Marlborough, Wiltshire, SN8 3JP

01672 870871

www.theharrowatlittlebedwyn.com

Parking: No

Disabled access: Yes

Adver ratings:

Food: 10/10

Choice: 9/10

Décor: 8/10

Customer service: 9/10

Prices: Tasting menus from £50

TripAdvisor rating: 4.5/5