Am I the only person in the world who thinks the Lord of the Rings film trilogy is rubbish?
Twice I tried to read the books as a younger man, only to give up in boredom and despair.
Back then the adventures of Frodo and his pals was regarded as de rigeur for the baby boom generation, whose right-on student faction regarded it as an allegory on World War Two and relevant in their anti-Vietnam protests. It didn't matter that Tolkien didn't agree.
I just thought it was an irredeemably silly tales of elves, dwarves and wizards, written by a semi-crazed eccentric and devoured by dippy-hippies living in their own private fairyland.
But I was still willing to give the first film a chance – mostly because I had a junior school-aged son who was desperate to see it!
What happened? Well the start was great, with a marvellous computer-generated fireworks display.
Likewise the end, with an exciting extended battle.
But the middle! It was an incessant, mind-curdling, bottom-numbing yomp – a boring marathon trudge across a backdrop of admittedly spectacular scenery.
Legend has it that at one showing a frustrated punter leapt up and urged our heroes: "For ****'s sake, give them the ring!" I know how he felt.
But on Friday night I did learn to have a little sympathy with the hobbits and their wilderness trek.
The three of us – mother, father and by now 14-year-old, were heading off in the early evening pitch blackness to visit the Alchemy Restaurant, in the netherland between Mold and Nercwys.
A telephone call a few days earlier had told us we could happily bring along a well-behaved teenager and, this being the computer age, we had already looked the restaurant up on the website.
A handy link took us on to Google Maps and although we do not have satnav we were able to print out the next best thing.
We had heard about the restaurant, at Pistyll Farmhouse, in a previous carnation and knew it was fairly remote.
Now it is fair to say Beverley is not the world's greatest map reader and the Google instructions also leave a little to be desired. Slight right – what does that mean?
So we left the main Wrexham-Mold road and followed a succession of meandering and claustrophobic back roads, each one seemingly pokier than the last, until we spotted a sign for Pistyll farm.
Down a track, as had been described, and we ended up...at a depot of some sort. What had gone wrong?
A mobile call only managed to raise the Alchemy voice mail.
For a minute we sat there bereft of ideas. It was minus three outside and the man in the moon smiled brightly down at us in that annoyingly smug manner of his.
So we backtracked and managed to retrace our route. Twice. Eventually we carried on past the Pistyll Farm sign - and then suddenly there it was, another sign proclaiming Alchemy. At last. Another tiny track and finally we arrived.
And what a welcome! The concerned chef and a waitress were out of the door to greet us. Was this attention to detail given to all customers?
We soon found out why – we were the only customers.
We were shown through to a comfortable living room which still looked for all the world as if it been appointed by a farmer's wife, warm and welcoming with a cheerful log fire crackling away.
We ordered drinks – water for myself (yet again the nominated driver) and Oliver (the under-age teenager) and a glass of Pinot Grigiot from the bottle we had ordered to accompany our meal (£13.45) for the pampered and permanently-chauffered Beverley.
Choices made, we were ushered through to another rather excellent room – the farmhouse theme remained, frills were at a minimum and candles on the tables flickered a greeting. It was just a shame there was nobody else to help us add a little atmosphere, although an exquisite and understated soundtrack, taking us on a journey from Billie Holliday-era jazz classics through to some excellent 1970s offerings, helped.
My choice of starter came with a warning from Beverley. The black pudding stack( £4.95) was described as a triple stack of local black pudding, smoked bacon and Caerphilly cheese with a Dijon and cream sauce.
"It sounds very rich," she said. Those words would return to haunt us, although not in the way we thought.
It looked a like a Christmas pudding, covered in a white concoction that looked like nothing other than brandy sauce. Beverley looked like being right, as usual.
She wasn't, it was excellent. The sauce looked rich, but was really quite subtle and the blend of the pudding, bacon and cheese was an excellent if rather filling introduction to the evening.
Beverley and Oliver shared Alchemy mussels (£6.95), cooked with chilli, tomato and parsley and served in the shell.
Again the sauce was light and fresh, described by Beverley as the most beautiful sauce she had ever tasted.
Praise indeed.
Halfway through the course she suddenly realised something was missing – bread.
"Ask for some," I ventured. Too late. But a small matter, and it was not going to overshadow an excellent start.
So it was with anticipation that we awaited our mains.For me, pan fried fillet of cod in a sauce of fennel shallots and chilli (£9.95), for Oliver, honey and cider mutton (£12.95) and for Beverley, rosti (£8.95).
But then it all started to go a bit belly-up.
My cod could have been excellent – I will never know. Sauce is supposed to enhance taste, not completely submerge it, especially with delicate tastes and textures like fish.
Now, I am a northern lad, I have had many a battered cod, but never have I had one battered into such a state of abject surrender. I dug down through a morass of heavy duty sauce and managed to find a piece of fish that was relatively untainted – I had the impression it was an excellent piece of cod. What a shame.
I know cod is making a welcome comeback in the North Sea. This specimen definitely belonged on the endangered list.
Oliver was faring a little better. He proclaimed his mutton excellent, but he was also finding the sauce a little wearing as the taste started first to accumulate and then to cloy. I tested the meat and again it was very good, but the sauce was too much. This was no mutton dressed as lamb, but it was definitely overdressed.
Was the rosti going to save the day? Unfortunately not.
Described on the menu as topped with buttered spinach, sauteed and finished with cream garlic and nutmeg, topped with poached egg, melted cheese and smoked tapinade tomato, it was as rich as a premiership footballer. Beverley found it difficult to find the rosti through the thick and oily cheese overcoat. The one bright spot was the tomatoes – she thought them gorgeous.
She turned to the side salad (£1.95) to salvage the dish but this was also too oily. There was no mention of dressing on the menu, but dressing, and oily oodles of it, there definitely was.
We also had a side dish of vegetable (£1.95) excellent crisp cauliflower, very good carrot and sadly overcooked broccoli.
A high spot came with the hand cut chips (£1.95). I know it is cliched, but they really were like mum used to make.
As a little aside, we ran a little straw poll when we visited our local pub later in the evening and asked what the thoughts were about charging vegetables, chips, etc as a separate item, and the consensus was it was annoying and left the customer feeling tricked.
Prices at the Alchemy we found very reasonable, but the side order route does add that little touch of irritation. Restaurateurs out there, please take note.
Beverley and I were too full for desserts, but Oliver's enjoyable profiteroles arrived just as we were being served two excellent coffees.
So we paid (in cash, the credit card machines had not arrived) and thought about what we had experienced. Generally, we had enjoyed the evening, but it was a tale of two courses – excellent starters, overegged mains – that left us feeling a little bit sad for what might have been.
All three mains had come frustratingly close to being very good, but had then been overwhelmed by sauce.
The setting is all you could wish for in a former farmhouse, the surroundings must be spectacular in better weather and the chef and waitress were courteous, friendly and helpful.
The Alchemy has all the ingredients to be a huge success – the starters proved the potential is there.
But please, please, please, reign in those over-the-top sauces.
Factfile
Alchemy Restaurant, Pistyll Farmhouse, Nercwys, Mold, CH7 4EW; 01352 755880; www.alchemyrestaurant-mold.co.uk.
Total cost: £70.40 for three, including wine and coffees (restaurant does not yet take credit cards).
Best things: Excellent surroundings, friendly and charming staff.
Worst thing: Sauce, sauce and yet again, sauce.
Would suit:Couples looking for an intimate and romantic atmosphere after a drive in the country.
Wouldn't suit: Lovers of plain cooking.
