The Clive, Ludlow - food review

It ought to be one of the best restaurants in Shropshire. It's located on the outskirts of Gourmetville – sorry, Ludlow – has one of the county's best owners and has access to sensational produce.

The menu is smart and focuses on doing a small number of things well, rather than offering a needlessly wide choice. The Clive, in short, ought to be shooting for the stars.

And yet a midweek dinner with a friend was an exercise in disappointment. And the reason why quite simple: the cooking was inconsistent and the seasoning patchy.

What ought to have been a celebration of some of Shropshire's finest produce in one of its most pleasant restaurants was underwhelming. I tend to think it must simply have been a bad night when we called. For standards appeared to have been driven up during the past couple of years.

The Clive has earned two AA rosettes for its food, a benchmark award that denotes decent quality. It's also been listed as a recommended restaurant in the Michelin Guide. Certainly, our expectations were high when we dined. It's been recommended by others as offering delicious but unfussy dining.

And yet for all of the recommendations, there were too many basic errors that made parts of our dinner unpalatable. It was an evening where expectation was unfulfilled, where the highlight was the exceptional service from an experienced restaurant manager, Rositsa, rather than the food.

It's curious to think that the last time I visited The Clive, the service was poor and the food quite delicious. This time, it was reversed.

The service was first class and the food mediocre. I'm hoping that the next time I visit, both aspects will be singing from the same hymn sheet. For when they do, The Clive will be formidable.

The Clive is located beside Ludlow Food Centre. As its website says, it offers local food in a peaceful and informal restaurant. The ingredients for its seasonal menus are sourced from the surrounding land. It is part of the Earl of Plymouth's Oakly Park Estate, which provides it with meat reared on the doorstep, cheese and artisan bread from the neighbouring Ludlow Food Centre. The vegetables are fresh from Lady Windsor's walled garden.

We arrived on time and were invited to enjoy a drink in the bar before being shown to our table. The Clive provides an accomplished balance between dining and drinking. Its traditional bar serves local beer and bar food: people who were tucking into fish and chips looked as though they'd got the best dish on offer. There is a large fireplace and my friend and I pulled up comfortable chairs and relaxed while perusing the menus.

When we were shown into the dining room, our table had been set and a selection of breads from the adjacent Ludlow Food Centre were on the table; the best being a leek and cheese bread that was savoury and had good texture.

We started with duck bon bons and prawn beignets. Both were OK, but no more. The bon bons were served with a swish of fruity sauce but had been hard fried and lacked moisture within. We'd anticipated something quite different from the beignets; a beignet, after all, is the French term for deep-fried choux pastry.

Typically, beignets are doughnut-ty – and yet we were served battered prawns with a chilli sauce. The samphire that ought to have been served with them was absent; the kitchen having run out. Instead micro salad leaves had been placed on top of the battered prawns. They were no match for the residual heat from the prawns and soon wilted. The dish was underseasoned.

Our mains were peculiar. My friend ordered pan fried fillet of sea bass with fondant potatoes, samphire and a light sauce.

She received two large fillets, no samphire and six, large fondant potatoes that were so undercooked – the indelicate term, I think, is raw-in-the-middle – that my friend was unable to eat them. Rositsa had forewarned my friend that there'd be no samphire with the dish and asked if she'd like an alternative. "Something green, please," said my friend, not expecting to be confronted with over-boiled, watery cabbage.

The dish was a curate's egg. The fish was great, though serving two large fillets is needlessly generous unless you are a 21st, 7ft, fish-eating giant. She soldiered on and made it through, though largely because the garnishes were so poor that they weren't worth eating. The cabbage was truly awful. She made me eat it. I thought she was ending our friendship and punishing me for some unknown slight.

Cabbage can be fantastic: shredded, a little salt and pepper, butter and a hot pan. Few things are more enjoyable from the winter larder. The variety she was served, however, was reminiscent of school dinners. I thought I might gag when she pushed it in my mouth.

My trio of lamb was similarly unfathomable. The rack and canon were delicious. Expertly cooked, well-rested and deliciously moist, they were fabulous. A slice of shoulder, however, was awful. It was so dry that it resembled biltong, which is quite a feat for a cut of meat that is the juiciest and most flavoursome of all. The garnish was as poor as my friend's. Dauphinoise potatoes were dominated by garlic and had not been cooked through, so those in the centre were raw. It was also underseasoned. Small parsnips were horribly overcooked.

When the waitress cleared our table, she asked if our dinners were fine. We made light-hearted comments about leaving things in the oven, or pan, for longer. She apologised on the restaurant's behalf.

Desserts were better. An apple crumble with custard was the highlight of the night. The apples were delicious, the custard creamy, vanilla-ey and sweet and the crumble had just the right crunch. A sticky toffee pudding was almost as good.

And that, as they say, was that. Rositsa deducted the cost of our desserts from the bill following the uncooked-potatoes incident and we were left to ponder a night of two halves.

A great venue, brilliant ingredients from the UK's best farm shop, a delightful, warm and welcoming restaurant and first class service were notable. Underseasoned, undercooked and overcooked food were negatives – though the sea bass, canon and rack of lamb and crumble were all decent.

I'd hoped against hope to be able to be effusive about The Clive. For if any venue deserves wider support that's it. Independent, serving the best of local produce and offering reasonable value for money, The Clive has much that is commendable.

And while I tend to think the kitchen was simply having an off night – it happens, and were that the regular standard The Clive wouldn't have two AA rosettes – if its chef focuses more on making his food tasty, rather than pretty; cooking it with greater precision and making sure it's better seasoned, it will become one of the best around.