A gentle perambulation down the mellow cobbles of Gold Hill, Shaftesbury and a not so gentle climb back to the top, where the straining tables of Old Shaston awaited Buggeridge and wife in dire need of refreshment, form the first instalment of a series of visits to local tearooms.
Before I go into detail about the delectable gastronomic delights in which we indulged, a few words about Gold Hill.
Gold Hill served as the setting for that Hovis advert featuring the young boy pushing his bike up the hill to the strains of Dvorak's Symphony No. 9, better known to you and I as the New World Symphony. The advert, incidentally, was directed by one Ridley Scott.
Interestingly, its appellation of Gold Hill has nothing to do with the trading of gold nor the fashioning of trinquets made thereof in the establishments that flank its winding thoroughfare but to a ritual humiliation dating back to medieval times known as the Skimmington Ride in which adulterers and adulteresses would be stripped naked, painted gold and sat backwards on donkeys before being paraded through the streets to the jeers of the onlooking mob.
Anyway, we both settled down in our seats in King Alfred's kitchen and found ourselves spoiled for choice by the veritable smorgasbord of country fayre on offer. I opted for the Somerset Cream Tea; delicious with a nice yellow crust on the clotted cream and the scones were marvellous. The wife opted for the savoury cream tea; Cheese scones with somerset cheddar and green tomato chutney. We both shared a pot of Lady Grey tea.
This was all served to us by a rosey cheeked young slip of a thing in a gingham outfit who looked like she had stepped off the pages of a Hardy novel; her name was Svetlana. A sign of the times I suppose but the service was excellent and I rounded off our visit by tipping her handsomely in the lobby while the wife wasn't looking.
Before I go into detail about the delectable gastronomic delights in which we indulged, a few words about Gold Hill.
Gold Hill served as the setting for that Hovis advert featuring the young boy pushing his bike up the hill to the strains of Dvorak's Symphony No. 9, better known to you and I as the New World Symphony. The advert, incidentally, was directed by one Ridley Scott.
Interestingly, its appellation of Gold Hill has nothing to do with the trading of gold nor the fashioning of trinquets made thereof in the establishments that flank its winding thoroughfare but to a ritual humiliation dating back to medieval times known as the Skimmington Ride in which adulterers and adulteresses would be stripped naked, painted gold and sat backwards on donkeys before being paraded through the streets to the jeers of the onlooking mob.
Anyway, we both settled down in our seats in King Alfred's kitchen and found ourselves spoiled for choice by the veritable smorgasbord of country fayre on offer. I opted for the Somerset Cream Tea; delicious with a nice yellow crust on the clotted cream and the scones were marvellous. The wife opted for the savoury cream tea; Cheese scones with somerset cheddar and green tomato chutney. We both shared a pot of Lady Grey tea.
This was all served to us by a rosey cheeked young slip of a thing in a gingham outfit who looked like she had stepped off the pages of a Hardy novel; her name was Svetlana. A sign of the times I suppose but the service was excellent and I rounded off our visit by tipping her handsomely in the lobby while the wife wasn't looking.
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