Tolley's, Ryecroft Hall

The lions still guard the entrance but from the roars of laughter emanating from within, the old austerity has long gone from Ryecroft hall as was – Tolleys as is.
Fifteen years ago when I last crossed the threshold for the first and – up to now – last time I found it dark and forbidding. Not any more. It’s light and bright and full of laughter.
Lovely staff, too, smiling with a warmth that reaches the eyes. Courtesy, care and curiosity. When were you last here? Will you come back?
Oh, yes the country house ambience is still there but, spirits soar at the sight of the lights, lounge garlanded as though the with many stars , alluring alcoves, panels, getting the treatment, stately yet comfy, chairs inviting a return for coffee and chocs later, all of the timeout from the high street melee.
The Tolleys have worked their magic here. They have a nice chemistry too. Clive’s affable, observant, Diane more reserved but welcoming. It feels like home. Just posher! It’s easy to forget you’re being charged for the privilege of home cooking, by the squire which why I remind them of a £3.50 UNDER charge. You don’t grudge paying when the food is good, and the atmosphere easygoing for all the style.
For starters, and let’s forget the food for a moment, there are other guests, many of them an extended, if unrelated, family of regulars, repeat business being high. That speaks volumes.
All it needs, I’m assured by friends who have attended chef-patron Clive Tolley’s cookery demonstrations here (the next being on July 27) is for the affable Mr T to get his guitar out. The last chef who inflicted that upon me – no names but he was local – effectively held us prisoner until the early hours with his American Pie. And by midnight, when the bonhomie of the third glass of wine, or the first sambuca, was beginning to wear off, I was ready to melt his plectrum in the microwave.
Which brings us to his food. Saturday night so £23.50 for three course, £20 for two, a la carte reduced to a remarkable £13 midweek. We almost booked a return on the spot. Lots of menu changes too. Let’s hope they repeat the leek and Lancashire blue cheese tartlet, my starter – for 10, well 9 out of 10, light pastry, lovely taste cheese and leeks to gets the chapels singing their praises in the hillsides. No starter opposite – because tonight is going to be a Sweet night. Dream on…
What’s rather nice too, given the location, which generally requires a drive, is there’s a good reasonably priced, choice of wine and they offer half bottles. Asking for a half bottle goes against the grain but I spotted a good white Burgundy  from cooperative La Chablisienne Petit Chablis – and ended up with Chataeu de Viviers (£9.50) but it’s still the genuine article.
It worked a treat with my companion’s lemon sole, pan fried to perfection, lifting easily off the bone – although sole produces a few surprises for the unwary – a beautifully moist, flavoursome fish.
I’d have welcomed the chance to have my duck cooked to order. although it was far from dry, and the fat content had been reduced at not cost to the flavour, offset innovatively, by rhubarb. Great pairing of two strong flavours complementing the other. Subtle hint of ginger too.
But here’s the highlight: the vegetables. Humble seasonal veg, chunks of cauli, strips of carrots ( instead of those horrible little circles), mange tout and roasties which looked a little woebegone but tasted divine. Gorgeous veg, al dente, as the Italians say, not over processed , or pulped, or swimming in oil. Best we’ve had in ages.

So to sweet, for who are we to desert a dessert? Any thought of sticking with the £20 for two course fled on sight of the neighbouring table’s puds, and we dallied, oh, for all of a second, with sharing one. Having rediscovered rhubarb I played the rhubarb fool and enjoyed it, opposite, a strudel with cream whipped up a storm of appreciation.
Coffee and mint chocs at no extra cost, back in the lounge, amidst the buzz of chat, a last lingering look at the orangerie, the glorious ornate glass doors, the intriguing sprawl of rooms off the corridor.
Another nice touch?

Guests are offered a brolly in the summer storms to keep, thanks to what the Tolleys call their “recycling scheme.” Jolly thoughtful, Tolleys. That’s what I call dinner down to a T! Dinner for two, inclusive of aperitifs, £59.70