Rating: **** Afternoon TV addict Andy Richardson hot foots it for a fine meal at the Mytton and Mermaid.

The term ‘guilty pleasure’ was coined to reflect ineffably naff songs that could also be described as being ‘naughty but nice’.

Guilty Pleasures have become increasingly popular in recent years, helping people to come to terms with the drug-like qualities of tunes like Meat Loaf’s Bat Out Of Hell, or Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart, for instance.

Other bombastic rock tunes fall into the genre: Boston, Toto, REO Speedwagon are all deemed guilty pleasures.

For my part, I eschew such fripperies. Life’s too short to listen to Meat Loaf when there are new records to enjoy from Foo Fighters, Bon Iver, PJ Harvey or Fleet Foxes.

I do have a guilty pleasure, however, and it’s the fag end of daytime telly. Give me a cheeky half hour of Channel 4 during the middle of the afternoon and my appetites are sated. In recent weeks, my guilty pleasure has changed as daytime telly has taken a course of steroids.

Channel 4 no longer lumbers along at 20mph; it’s been souped up and now roars up the highway at 80mph.

Take the impossibly-evergreen Noel Edmonds and his long-running Deal or No Deal, on Channel 4. For six long years, the programme was pre-recorded, so contestants bidding to win the £250,000 top prize could take all the time in the world. So, if something went wrong, a producer would simply shout ‘Cut’, and they’d do it all again.

Contestants could pick a box, and then change their mind, talk to the crowd, gurn at the cameras, umm and aah to their heart’s content. Like a beach holiday beside the pool, there was no pressure.

Like the Cadbury’s Caramel bunny, they were deliciously, luxuriously unhurried.

In recent weeks, however, the programme has become Deal Or No Deal On Speed. The pace has been cranked to the max, it’s now broadcast live and contestants have to make decisions with the speed of a battle general. “Box 21 or 17? C’mon, c’mon. What’s it to be?” It’s like watching Noel on speed.

My lunchtime experience at the Mytton and Mermaid was conducted at a similar quick-fire pace.

Inside the Mytton and Mermaid, Atcham

It wouldn’t be gilding the lily to describe my dining companion as one of the most vivacious, quick-thinking, go-getters in Shrewsbury: she wasn’t in the mood to hang around.

Lunch, like life, was something to enjoy at quick-fire pace, not something to take at leisure. We ate as though our lives depended on it, as though it were the last supper before an afternoon of meetings that might change the world.

The Mytton and Mermaid, like the contestants on Deal or No Deal Live, had no room for error. Poor service, an inefficient kitchen or any glitches in the dining experience would show up like a Ribena stain on a white dress.

In recent years, my relationship with the Mytton and Mermaid has been peculiar.

It’s often flattered to deceive. Good quality produce has occasionally been let down by poor cooking or combinations that have been just plain odd.

The service hasn’t always been up to speed and dining there has been something of a lottery – on occasions, the Mytton and Mermaid has been among the best in the county, at other times it’s been a letdown.

On this occasion, happily, it shone like the North Star. By the time my dining partner arrived, there was already a chilled bottle of sparkling water on our table and within moments a wooden board of bread had arrived, with butter and a super-garlicky tapenade.

The Mytton and Mermaid menu is divided in two. There are daily specials, featuring a selection of three or four starters and mains that shine the spotlight on great seasonal, local produce.

Additionally, there’s an absurdly long menu that offers pub classics, gastro choices, light bites and more.

It reads like an encyclopaedia of pub food in the 2010s. My dining companion and I both went for the specials menu, making the most of seasonal choices that featured ingredients straight from local fields. We only had time for two courses, and so selected a main and dessert, while simultaneously wishing we’d had longer so that we could also have made a selection from the exceptional list of starters.

I choose partridge with a red wine jus, parsnip crisps and a small mound of sautéed cabbage and bacon.

It was fabulous. Partridge isn’t the easiest bird to cook: it turns from undercooked to overcooked in the blink of an eye.

Thankfully, the Mytton and Mermaid team had withdrawn it from the pan at the perfect moment.

When it arrived at the table, it was a celebration of rich, savoury, gamey moistness that had been perfectly paired with the other items on the plate.

Sweet, savoury, crisp, soft – all textures and sensations had been elegantly placed onto my plate.

My companion went for the guinea fowl with fondant potato, and made light work of it. Before I could say ‘How’s your guinea fowl?’ it had been dispatched amid a flurry of licked lips and appreciative purrs of approval.

My partner showed remarkable alacrity in choosing her dessert.

She was like a bullet from a gun. “The marmalade crème brulee,” please, she demurred. The sweet, creamy bowl of indulgence was soon gone.

I went for a dish combining plums and cinnamon, which was similarly enjoyable. The service, throughout, was attentive, quick and courteous.

Our bill was just under £50 – a bargain.

If the Mytton and Mermaid can continue to offer such high levels of food and service, it’ll become increasingly popular.

As we left, a guilty thought entered my mind: Mytton and Mermaid for a quick fire lunch – Deal or No Deal? Deal, of course.

ADDRESS
Mytton and Mermaid, Atcham, Shrewsbury SY5 6QG
Tel: 01743 761220
Web: www.myttonandmermaid.co.uk

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