The most striking thing about the White Horse is the view from the restaurant over the marshes towards the sea. The sunset was spectacular. And the food wasn’t too shabby, either.
We shared half a dozen Brancaster oysters to start. Served just as they come, on the half shell, with a little bowl of shallot vinegar to drizzle over. You probably can’t get fresher unless you get them out of the sea yourself.
One of us stuck with seafood for a main course. A thick wodge of cod roasted perfectly to the just flaking stage (although no crispy skin). Alongside, a mix of spuds and pancetta, together with peas and asparagus. The other plate featured a free range chicken breast (again, no crispy skin) with hispi cabbage, leeks (which could have stood a tad more cooking n) and a scattering of hazelnuts and chanterelles. A light, slightly sweet, jus set it off.
Desserts were a bit of a let-down. House made summer fruits ice cream was neither particularly fruity nor particularly creamy. And a plate of “compressed strawberries” simply wasn’t. Sure, the scattering of just four or five berries had been macerated so they were soft but not really any improvement on leaving them untouched. There were a couple of blobs of cream that tasted as though they may well have come out of the squirty can. There was a scattering of crisp crumbs of something instantly forgettable.
Service had been generally engaging and efficient. There had been a faff opening a bottle of wine which involved two members of staff – the bloke possibly thinking that this was not a job for a girlie. He managed to get bits of cork into the wine. We asked for another bottle which the said young woman naturally managed to open on her own entirely successfully – and with a smile, which characterised the rest of her attention to us. She was a definite asset to the business.