Antique sculptures

But then, Henley-in-Arden is a well-to-do town where you get the feeling that keeping ahead of the neighbours is quite a concern, especially for the Bluebell which, with The Oak At Hockley Heath just down the road and The Durham Ox also in the near vicinity, is operating in what must be one of the most gastropub-dense corners of the British Isles.
All of this means that any visit to the Bluebell comes with a pretty heavy weight of anticipation and its reputation clearly precedes it, since the pub was full to bursting when we dropped by. Admittedly it's such a small place that any more than 30 people would make it feel cramped. The waiting staff have to squeeze between drinkers at the bar on their way to the dining area at the front or to the small alcove at the rear where we sat. But it's still an attractive environment that retains many of the antique features of its former incarnation.
The menu doesn't try to squeeze too much in, though, boasting a relatively small range of modern British dishes and a specials board. Dishes from the current seasonal menu include pan-fried black bream with braised fennel and chorizo or chargrilled calf's liver with mash and sage butter ( 13 each). Though you're not spoiled for choice - especially if you're vegetarian - such a compact selection can inspire confidence that the chefs have carefully crafted and refined a select few dishes that play to their strengths.
Unfortunately, our starters were the first indication that our meal might not live up to expectations

Otherwise, quality, especially the nigiri sushi and that extraordinary chawanmushi, is right up there, especially by London standards. It's churlish to complain like a jaded bloater about limited fish choice when it's for ethical reasons and everything else is so painstaking. It may seem expensive but that's down to first-rate ingredients and meticulous presentation - just like in Kyoto, each dish comes on its own particular hand-crafted piece of pottery, so gorgeous they wouldn't look out of place hanging on Soseki's antique wooden walls.
To my knowledge, the only other restaurant specialising in kaiseki in London is Umu and that establishment concentrates on the far more rarefied kaiseki ryori, imports its water specially from Japan and delivers bills that make you have to sit in a darkened room for several days. By comparison, Soseki is positively accessible (there's a nine-course sushi menu at only 25; I only hope it features more than three sorts of fish).
When I go back, I'm going to sit at the sushi bar rather than get waylaid by the lovely kimono tables or bonkers little huts on stilts, so I can talk to the chef - just like you do in Japan - and let him know my likes and dislikes. That's the beauty of kappo and omakase: you get a truly bespoke feast

source, source,