If it wasn't for the existence of Darley's, the fine city of Derby would have much in common with the wastes of Antarctica: there would be nowhere to eat. Study the maps, and you will quickly see its splendid isolation. There is nothing else worthy of note for many miles in any direction. This barren territory does, I suppose, give the lie to the oft-reported claim that we are in the grip of a restaurant boom. Other parts of the realm may think that paying reasonable money for well-prepared food is now a good idea, but clearly, in Derby there's very few folk who hold with that sort of thing.
So we should, I think, give thanks for Darley's. It occupies an attractive site overlooking a weir on the tree-lined River Derwent to the north of the city, and is part of a development of a hulking, old Victorian mill. There has, in fact, been a restaurant on this site for over a decade, but Darley's has only been up and running for the past 16 months, as the management attempts to 'go for the rosettes', as the waiter put it.
Having tried it for a solo weekday lunch, I fear that the lack of competition in Derby does it no favours. One of the reasons there are a lot of good restaurants in London is that there are a lot of good restaurants in London. Put another way, chefs raise their game if they know the punters could be going elsewhere. The fine town of Ludlow in Shropshire has no particular reason for being of note where eating out is concerned, for example, but because Shaun Hill's Merchant House and Ken Adam's Oaks Restaurant are both there, other chefs have now crowded in and it has become something of a foodie mecca.
Darley's, meanwhile, has to 'go for the rosettes' without anything to judge itself by. That, at least, can be my only explanation for my rather lacklustre lunch. This is not to say that Darley's is a bad place. The service is very friendly and efficient, the room light and airy, and there is a dinner menu both reasonably priced and ambitious which promised an interesting busyness on the plate: 'Twice-baked goat's cheese soufflé, salad of grilled red peppers, tapanade and pistachio-nut vinaigrette' to start, for example (£6.90); 'Caramelised breast of Gressingham duck, Oriental vegetable spring roll, black cherry compote with Thai chilli dressing' as a main course (£17.50).
Three courses at lunch is good value at £14.50. To start, I chose grilled sardines with what was described as a 'vine tomato fondue', because doing grilled sardines well in a restaurant of some ambition is very difficult. The fondue was just a thick tomato sauce, and not a particularly distinguished one at that. As to the fish, it was a bit of a mistake to gut one and not the other; there's nothing wrong with an ungutted sardine as long as it's cooked properly. But a little consistency on the plate goes a long way.
My main course, honey-basted belly pork with celeriac purée, compote of figs, beans and crackling also displayed a similar lack of attention to detail. The crackling was perfect, the meat fine, but the celeriac purée was grossly over salted and the compote was an overly crude and lumpy affair, plonked on the plate with little thought for presentation. For pudding, the best part of the lunch, I went local and ordered the Bakewell tart with a raspberry coulis. It was more of a cake than a tart, the customary slick of jam replaced with crush of fresh raspberries, and all the jollier for that. Unfortunately, it was then let down by a truly dismal cup of insipid coffee.
I have no doubt that Darley's has a dedicated band of loyal fans. I'm sure you'll get in touch and tell me so - you usually do. And I also have no doubt that, when everything works, the grand promise of that dinner menu can deliver something very interesting. But at my lunch, it didn't work out that way. Frankly, when there's nothing else in town touting for this kind of trade, it seems a great opportunity wasted. It's a pity, is all.
