A cold and blustery day and an amble with the kids on the beach as the waves crash against the sea wall. Wonderfully ventilated we searched for some sustanance but were disapointed to find most hostelries firmly shut for the season.
So the Hope and Anchor. I am a sad old romantic- just the name conjurs up a images of a brooding sea, galleons, cutlasses and gold pieces and thats before I had even touched the landlords best. Yes It is an old pub, in the middle of Outer Hope- hunkered down near the edge of the sea bracing itself against the Atlantic winds; surely with many stories to tell.
We peered in- all dark inside; all I could see through the small windows was a healthy fire in the grate and that was enough to get us in-in a flash through the big old wooden door.
It was just what we needed. Low ceilings, beams, open fires and big sofas. A bar with real ales and I couldn't help noticing some of my favourite malts-shame I was driving; so not today.
This is a pub made in my imagination for cold days like this. I had a brief apparition of myself draped across the leather sofa in front of the fireplace, a real ale relaxing upon the table in front of me as we espoused on our theories on life, the universe and all that good beer generates. Too soon this wonderfull Pickwickian scene vanished in whisp of smoke as I was informed the wee lad wanted yet another wee.
Upstairs is a huge light room looking out toward Burgh Island and Cornwall beyond. Very nice- great for families but today, in January we settle for the dark downstairs, the smell of burning logs and comfy chairs.
A very pleasant looking menu- with a nice mix of fish and meat dishes. I wanted something fancy of which there seemed to be plenty- Seabass, basil and rocket; Cod with a crayfish sauce; A fantastic sounding seafood platter- but it was an early lunch and it was Friday and I couldn't get fish and chips out of my mind and so it was.
This was very nice- Not a measly portion, nor compensating for quality with volume. The batter was light- not grotequely deformed or pappy as is so often the case. The chips were good and the minted peas were lovely. With not a hint of excess grease on the plate this was a most satisfactory experience. And that was it- I didn't have room for any more at lunchtime.
Now Fish and Chips is not difficult but so often because of that it's hard to make it really nice isn't it? - and this was. Even Mr Roux would have approved, I am sure, had the skinny Gallic chap been here.
In time we ambled off suitably sated and warmed most pleasantly, resolving to return and under my breath I promised myself I would not be driving and I could partake of some real ale and perhaps a little malt. The wind had dropped and I could see a little further out toward the Cornish coast; I could quite happily have climbed in the car and fallen asleep- but I didn't as they all wanted to go to Salcombe.
This review is the subjective opinion of a TripAdvisor member and not of TripAdvisor LLC.