My father is probably my loudest cheerleader and my greatest critic. One of the reasons that my brain is so crowded with aspirations for the future is because I was never told: “You can’t do that.” My father made sure (and still does) that any endeavour has his entire support. He was also determined that anything we started was finished…and to our full potential. We weren’t allowed to be quitters or half-arsed which has made me into something of a workaholic (and perfectionist) in adulthood.
I do not take criticism well and can vividly remember the first time I cooked a spag bol for him and he said that it needed more seasoning. Horror. I hated cooking for the family for a long time because I felt a certain pressure that it had to be perfect. Fortunately, this now means that I can make a mean tomato-based dinner as I taste check every 13 seconds. Since regularly cooking family meals, the pressure of perfection has gone and a more “Eat or starve” mentality introduced. However, choosing the perfect restaurant for my father still remains anxiety-attack inducing and for his first time visiting Brighton, I wanted it to be bloody brilliant.
(It was a toss-up between Terre a Terre and The Ivy in the Lanes. The Ivy won, just because I knew there would be a steak option if all else on the menu failed – know your audience peeps)
I was, of the three of us, the only one worried about how the meal would turn out. My father and his partner, Deb, were both delighted to go out for a fancy meal after all the home cooking of Christmas and didn’t notice my heart racing as I downed a (lovely but over-priced) ginger beer to calm my nervous stomach. They cheerfully ordered a bottle of Shiraz and explained how they got lost trying to find the Ivy, asking at least three people for directions before, at last, resorting to Google Maps. Why does the older generation think that they can do anything without technological help? I wouldn’t dream of it.
The wine was delicious. Full-bodied, a hint of cherry. The second was even better. For starters, my father opted for the lamb tartare (raw meat), which, as a vegetarian, I thought looked dreadful but he said was “Very good.” I had the roast pumpkin soup which arrived in a small jug that the waiter poured into a bowl over some (tasty as) roasted pumpkin…. Now, I’m all for restaurants theatrics: liquid nitrogen, hot chocolate breaking the mould etc etc but only when there’s the essential “oooh!” afterwards. It’s pointless if it keeps you away from digging in ASAP, which I felt this did. That being said, my bowl was almost dishwasher clean when I finished. Deb had the salmon. It was a slither and I mean a slither of smoked salmon. Apparently it tasted glorious but it was the most disappointing aspect of the entire meal. A SLITHER.
Mains perked up a lot. Dad had the lamb rump with roasted vegetables which I know he enjoyed because he was deathly silent throughout. I and Deb had the open halloumi sandwich. Crusty ciabatta with a thick avocado spread and halloumi that had been sizzled for seconds in a hot pan before being thrown on with tomato, pesto and a drizzle. Every element beautifully complimented the other. My father did his favourite thing where he deconstructs the meal and declares that he can: “Do this at home” which saw absolutely no backlash from us. Quite excited by the prospect actually.
To finish, we shared a cheeseboard and at my father’s (somewhat cheeky) request, the waiter brought extra crackers so that we would have more than one each. Brie, cheddar and stilton with a few grapes (not the fermented variety) – our favourite way to finish a meal. We frickin’ die for a cheeseboard.
Would I recommend the Ivy in the Lanes? Yes. It’s one of those places that you have to try once. It is a little overpriced but the quality of all the ingredients can’t be challenged. It’s a safe bet that everything will be tasty and you’ll be able to impress your parents/date/partner/whoever just a lil’ bit.
Thanks dad for always challenging me to be better, cheering me on at all opportunities, and for picking up the bill. Hopefully, after living here a couple more months, I’ll be able to find somewhere a little less on the spenny side.
-E x