Anatomy of a Ploughman’s or, Meet the Bishop

Just checked in with the blog. What I thought was a month’s break has almost become two months! As a friend pointed out tonight, I left off with basil and here we are skirting winter and in full throttle fall.

No excuses beyond real life encroaching and a trip to the UK. Wales? Again? Yes… and because this is the place (as in food blog) to talk about food, I want to tell you what makes me feel the most transported when visiting England. A Ploughman’s.

Our last day in Wales, we took a day trip to Ross-on-Wye and lunched at the King’s Head Hotel. This was my last chance for the quintessential pub meal (which, if you haven’t caught on is what we are talking about).

As in anything, attention and earnestness can present the same breadth of variety as snowflakes. No two Ploughman’s are alike. Ingredients may resemble each other on the menu, but quality and the use of local ingredients can make all the difference.

If you are fortunate enough to find yourself in an English pub (as in this picture), here’s my advice. Order a glass of the local lager and a Ploughman’s. If you are in a place that is graced with enough culinary consciousness to make this basic staple into something sublime, a large rasher of very fresh bread will be accompanied by some local cheeses (in this case some Stinking Bishop and two other cheeses that were equally delicious but not so memorably named), some chutney and a pickled onion or two (this one was thoughtfully cut into quarters so that I didn’t have to embarrass myself by trying to negotiate something so round and slippery with a knife and fork….. in England one NEVER uses one’s fingers), a polite portion of coleslaw and a bit of fresh salad. Civilization on a plate. Basic, satisfying and, if local ingredients are used, even surprising. The cheese was a revelation. I’ll never pass on the opportunity to encounter some Stinking Bishop again.