Perfectly acceptable to wait a while

IT’S A pity some people are in such a hurry – their pace of life so frenetic they can’t even slow down to eat.

Is a half-hour wait between courses “unacceptable”? It certainly was to one diner at the quaintlynamed Perk Up café bar in Ripon.

Mr Unacceptable (he used the word so many times he must have got to like it) at one stage even stood up to make his point more forcibly. Which was really quite unnecessary, as this café isn’t on the spacious side, so we all felt the benefit of his impatience.

Annette Lyons, the owner, head waiter, bottle washer, et al, was cheerfully, politely, unflappable.

Everything is prepared to order, she explained and things may take a little time.

I’d have told them to get down to the nearest chippy if they wanted fast food – which probably explains why I’m not a restaurateur.

With much huffing and puffing, Mr Unacceptable and his party left. We heaved a sigh of relief and looked forward to our main courses.

And, yes, we did have to wait a while, but we were not going on anywhere and this was endlessly entertaining. My only worry was that I was getting through the rather nice bottle of semilion chardonnay a little too quickly and, not only would I be eating through an alcoholic haze, but I would also not be able to remember enough about it to write this review.

In the meantime, my attention was divided between watching the world go by in Ripon’s busy market place – this being one of the few Saturday evenings this summer when it wasn’t either pouring with rain or blowing a gale – and observing head chef Michael Taylor – latterly of the Yorke Arms, Ramsgill – and his young team including “apprentice” Nikki Pybus, working in the open-plan kitchen at one end of the dining room. It’s like watching Ready Steady Cook without the annoying commentary.

I’m fascinated. These guys are working in a kitchen about a quarter of the size of ours at home, where I have been known to get ratty if I have to sidestep the Labrador trying to get to the oven to reheat last night’s lasagne.

They work round each other with mesmeric agility, and with not so much as a cross look, let alone a raised voice.

And they are producing some inspired dishes.

The menu is short – five starters, five mains, three puddings and cheese. It’s adventurous, but not scary, and it changes with the markets.

At the moment – on Thursdays through to Saturdays – there’s game: perhaps partridge, woodcock, snipe or vension. On the night we were there it was the turn of the partridge.

I started with some wonderfully smokey homecured salmon, served with delicate pieces of lobster in a, thankfully, understated rose marie sauce. Peter’s ballotine of ham hock, parma ham, black pudding and caramelised apple scores highly for its harmony of robust flavours, while Oliver’s moules mariner impress on three counts: a) the size of the Shetland mussels, b) the lightness of the garlic and cream sauce and c) the dish came with a nice little portion of fat cut chips.

My plump and tender whole partridge was presented perched on a delicious potato rosti with spring greens and a piquant, almost sweet, thyme jus. I’m intrigued.

The flavours are all distinct, yet marry beautifully.

And that harmony was the high note of Peter’s main course choice – fillet of smoked haddock with mussels, creamed potato and spinach.

Oliver’s melt-in-the-mouth fillet of seabass contrasted nicely with crispy calamari fried in the lightest tempura batter. It was served with parmentier potatoes on a bed of tasty bacon and peas.

Only Peter could manage a pudding – he couldn’t resist the Eton Mess with crushed strawberries – while Oliver and I had a very good latte which, fortuitously, came with some moreish homemade chocolates.

Although Perk Up may look small on the outside, there’s more to the place than, literally, meets the eye.

A ginnel to the side of the dining room leads to a flagged terrace with a wonderful view over the city and, back inside, a whitewashed cellar lounge is perfect for drinks or private dining.

Annette Lyons opened Perk Up as a cafe five years ago, started doing sandwiches, and now the 18-cover restaurant is open four nights a week.

After the encounter with Mr Unacceptable she said she feels “bruised” by people’s impatience.

But her team remains upbeat – cheerful to the end of what must have seemed a very long night.

Perky? You have to be in this game.