No Washing Up

This evening we all applied spit and polish and drove out for dinner.

We approach Mothering Sunday and 30%'s birthday in the next few days so I had made a reservation for the Belle House in Pershore. None of us had eaten there before but an acquaintance who had been of great assistance in the project to get the Vespa back on the road last year said it was worth a visit.

He was spot on the mark. The restaurant is a converted Georgian House on the High Street, which is confusingly called Bridge Street*, and has an associated Deli next door - they confusingly call that a Traiture. Our table was on the first floor in an oak panelled, high ceilinged room. The service was great and the food was fantastic. Apparently they run demonstration sessions which might be an interesting diversion.

I won't bore with the details of who had what but the assiette of deserts was splendid as was the Guinea Fowl with the side order of local asparagus.

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* Pershore is a quite attractive little Georgian Town that has seemed to miss out on any great development. It therefore has an air of a reasonably well kept back water. It has always been the butt of local humour and even now older Pershore residents will bridle if they hear someone from Evesham mention the practice of "putting the pig on the wall to see the band go by". This implied insult is based on their simple and naive nature and desire to show their livestock something exciting.