there was a terrific posh scotch egg - a burford brown encased in mince of chicken and rosemary-spiked lardo from colonatta, crispy, with a rich and golden runny yolk and earthy truffle mayonnaise (£14 a la carte, also on set lunch menu). my brother had a cold starter with lobster - good chunks of meat presented as a sort of salad, with tagliatelle-style ribbons of a vegetable we couldn't identify and forgot to ask about.
i had lobster in my main, with conchiglioni pasta and it's own light and frothy bisque. i enjoyed it, but i suspect i would have done so much more with the absence of peppers, the flavour from which i felt had no place on the plate. the capers though, definitely (£34 on a la carte).
my brother nailed his choice - roast norfolk black chicken, confit crispy leg, and girolles mushrooms. as good as it reads - savoury, umami, like the chickeny essence had been extracted from 50 fine birds and concentrated into one plate's worth of food (£24 a la carte, also on set lunch menu).
laudable desserts came in the form of a vibrant mango eton mess, shards of meringue sticking out like ship sails in the wind (£12.50 a la carte, also on set lunch menu), and a gloriously seductive guanaja chocolate mousse with streusel crumble, demonstrating some impressive paint brush skills (£12.50 a la carte).