Matt and Cat\'s Isle of Wight Eating Out Guide
After another hard day toiling down the corporate salt mine, Matt and Cat were sat in traffic inching their way homewards. Some might imagine...

After another hard day toiling down the corporate salt mine, Matt and Cat were sat in traffic inching their way homewards.

Pan-fried calves' liver

Some might imagine the reviewing duo plotting their next visit to some unwitting restaurant, but nothing could be further from the truth. A typical debate ensued: should they scrape the frost off whatever was in the bottom of the freezer, or stop at the Co-op and play short-dated-stock roulette?

Just then there was a peeping interruption from Cat’s phone. A pal was ringing to see if they’d like to go out for the evening. Go out? For the evening? It seemed the fish fingers were destined to spend another evening buried in Electrolux tundra. Soon the two were standing by the roadside, suited and booted, waiting for a ride to the West Wight. After a sedate drive in a flashy car, the party of three pushed open the exclusive door of The George Hotel, Yarmouth. In the absence of a greeter, they wandered around the historic hotel until they ended up at the restaurant.

Fillet steak

The George Hotel is a landmark on Yarmouth’s shoreline, sharing some of its thick stone walls with Henry VIII’s castle. Despite this weight of architectural history, Matt and Cat found themselves in a modern, airy extension with views over the twinkling lights of Yarmouth Pier. At night, there wasn’t much more to be seen, but earlier in the year it would be a stunning place for yacht-watching as the sun sets slowly over the Western Solent. As the night-washed garden was mostly in darkness they took in the interior surroundings – memorable for the rather naive paintings of guitar bodies (interpreted in oils by someone who may never have seen an actual guitar in the wild), and the fortress-like waiters’ station from behind which figures emerged periodically.

This would be a stunning place for yacht-watching as the sun sets slowly over the Western Solent

There was only one other party in the spacious conservatory-style dining area but instead of seating the trio at one of the many larger pre-laid tables, the staff squeezed them onto a table set for two then scuttled about getting an extra place setting. Drinks and menus were proffered. The prices raised some eyebrows, and even the question of whether the group might move on to somewhere cheaper. The Blue Crab, maybe, or even On The Rocks? But no. They’d come all this way, and were determined to see it through.

Matt and Cat gave their order and settled down to the business of the day – gossiping with their friend. They’d barely started on the curious case of the pie shop promotion when they were brought bread, and a teeny pat of soft butter on a little slate, accompanied by an even smaller pile of rock salt crystals. A promising beginning. Matt and Cat crunched their way through the comprehensive and tasty range of warmed breads. These yeasty fancies were soon joined at the table by an unexpected amuse bouche course; tiny teacups filled with frothy carrot and parsnip soup. The veloute was extraordinarily tasty; its sweetly smooth texture punctuated by little cubes of root veg.

The evening had begun swimmingly, although the diners could have done without the oleaginous warbling of James Blunt, whose voice seemed to be on a perpetual loop. This popular soldier/songwriter may have sold millions of records to lovelorn housewives but Cat found him as enjoyable as a slowly deflating balloon pinched savagely at the neck to create an ear-bothering whine. Sometimes one almost longs for Phil Collins or Tina Turner to be rehabilitated. Almost.

Matt’s pan-fried calves liver starter was the softest of meat, beautifully presented with a nest of salad shoots, two intriguing cubes and a good dollop of chutney. The cubes turned out to be mead and thyme jelly; perfectly sweet additions to this delicate meal. Matt liked the warmed brioche which was delivered to the table covered in a napkin like a compliant budgie.

Cat declined a starter – she was saving herself for something special. Like a feline with a taste for Whiskas, Cat rarely resists fillet steak and this evening was no exception. Served with kohlrabi remoulade and port jus, her two cylinders of finest Mottistone Farm fillet of beef were exquisitely textured and nearly matched the fillet al porto that she had at Valentino’s. Not on the menu but also on her plate – perhaps as a substitution for the missing fondant potatoes – was a sausagey thing which, on dissection, turned out to be a very tasty beef shin croquette. Before it had been identified all three diners had a nibble at it and thought it may have been duck, it was so rich and flavoursome.

Matt and Cat’s bill
Calves liver starter £9.50
Partridge £19.95
Beef fillet £28.00
Vegetables £2.95
Chips £2.95
Crème caramel £6.95
2 x coffee @ £2.95: £5.90
1 glass wine £4.75
Orange juice & lemonade £3.30
Total £84.25

At this point, let’s pause for a moment to take a deep breath. Can anyone guess what’s coming up next? Yup, quite likely you can. It’s the usual rant about paying extra for the vegetables. Matt and Cat would refer you to their previous reviews. Praise for the generous majority – such as Valentino’s and the Woodman Arms; and brickbats for those few who still charge for what should be a part of the meal. Sadly, the George falls into the latter camp, and although the extra vegetables and chips were good, the cost rankled.

Last time M&C had eaten at a posh place, it had been the Priory Hotel, which disappointingly served them chicken under the guise of game. Matt spotted partridge on the menu at the George, and decided to see if Yarmouth could manage game better than Seaview. A fairly generous plateful of bird arrived, splayed artfully over creamed butternut squash with Puy lentils. It was definitely game, as a single grain of lead shot was able to testify; and was enjoyable eating.

Cat couldn’t manage a pudding, but luckily one diner was still on duty: Matt bravely stepped forward to give the dessert menu a whirl. This document caused some consternation amongst the diners. Once Cat had overcome her horror at the inconsistent apostrophes, she pointed with a doubtful finger at the list of dishes, which really wasn’t very clear. There were five entries, each on two lines, and each with two or three tangentially related dishes listed. Did you get all three, or just one? Matt knew how to find out. Throwing caution to the winds, he ordered “Crème caramel, cinnamon and apple doughnut, Granny Smith sorbet”. His two companions ordered coffee.

The coffee arrived quickly enough, but with no milk, and no pudding either. This was the moment the waiting staff chose to make themselves scarce. Over their cooling and milk-less coffee the diners, alone in the big room, listened with increasing discomfort to the music. Some fifteen minutes later someone was finally flagged down and milk was produced, along with the most perfunctory of apologies. The irritation this caused was almost immediately dispelled by the arrival of the pudding – in fact a trio of puddings on one plate. The mystery of the menu vanished as Matt carefully tasted the morsels. All three together made up one clever and very well-composed whole. The little deep-fried doughnut with its crispy sugar coating was perfectly complemented by the sharpness of the Granny Smith sorbet, and the smooth, creamy crème caramel with rich cinnamon. This really was top quality stuff. Matt would have liked a moment to savour what he’d just eaten, and perhaps discuss it with his companions, but it wasn’t to be. As Matt’s spoon clattered to rest the waiter whipped the plate from under his nose before Matt had licked his chops clean. Then, presumably recalling some vestiges of his training, the chap politely asked how the dish had been. Matt, who had been particularly delighted with the sorbet, found himself praising the dish to the waiter’s retreating back. The compliment ended up dying on Matt’s lips.

Sadly, this wasn’t the end of the decline in service standards. After another wait of maybe ten minutes, the waiter passed by the room again and so rather than wait for another opportunity the party asked for the bill. Once the painful transaction was undertaken, again the staff evaporated and Matt, Cat and friend were left to find their own way out, retrieve Matt’s coat by themselves (which had only been taken in the first place at Cat’s prompting) and make their unnoticed way back out into the street.

Crème caramel, cinnamon and apple doughnut, Granny Smith sorbet

Matt and Cat enjoyed their food greatly. The venue was splendid. The menu was a good one, and, apart from substituting Cat’s spuds for extra meat, the kitchen didn’t put a foot wrong in producing it. Well-presented and delicious, it would almost have been worth what was paid for it had the whole of the experience been up to the same standard. But it wasn’t. From the frantic place-setting at their arrival to the over-eager plate clearing, the servers were either all over the diners or, as the evening wore on, nowhere to be seen. At these sort of prices Matt and Cat expected to be greeted on arrival and bid goodbye on leaving. They expected drinks and cutlery to be served from a tray, not in hand or leaning over the table. They expected the server to remember who ordered what without being prompted. They expected dessert menus after the plates were cleared, not before. These expectations were not met. The food and the location deserved so much better.

Matt and Cat could not resist the lure of that excellent menu for too long. What’s more, they heard from several other Island diners that they may have had an unlucky and uncharacteristic experience. In May 2012 they returned to the George, this time at the invitation of the hotel. And although this visit was not an anonymous review, and obviously the hotel were aware of the concerns expressed above, there was no doubt that the George proved more than capable of putting on service to match the menu, which was, as before, superb. Matt and Cat and their guests, the DigiBungalow bloggers, had a remarkable and excellent tour through the tasting menu, all served with impeccable skill and grace. Afterwards, a chat with the knowledgeable staff showed just how seriously they had taken the criticism. And rather than wring their hands about it, the George commendably took the unusual steps of putting the problem right, and inviting Matt and Cat to see so for themselves. As a result, M&C are more than happy to upgrade their rating to ‘We Love’, and will certainly be recommending the George unreservedly.
The George Hotel, Yarmouth

  • Had a wonderful lunch here yesterday. Great service, lovely views from the restaurant and fabulous food. Will certainly recommend and come back here for my big 40!

  • What fun this is….and a chef who talks back…..brilliant! I like Liam already and can’t wait to try his food !

  • Liam Finnegan says:

    It appears that there was some confusion in what I actually said. Look forward to having you at The George Peter.


    My name is Liam Finnegan and I’m head chef at the George Hotel in Yarmouth. I pride myself on being a chef and everyday continue to push myself and the team to do better for the customer. I’ve been cooking for 11 years. Most of them have been spent working in michelin starred and rosetted restaurants. I’ve worked in some of the finest restaurants/ hotels in Ireland, England and France. My main ethos on a dining experience is to give the customer £1.05 of value in food, service and entertainment for every £1 you spend.

    Today I was told about a review Matt and Cat did on The George and was pleased to read it. I welcome any criticism – structured or constructive, which in turn brings me to you and your comment. I’m sorry to say it’s neither structured or constructive and i feel that it is unprofessional for a person of the trade to publicly speak of another in this way. You’ve never eaten my food in the George. As for your comments on the food in the photographs; The Liver is cooked pink and the ‘blood’ is a sauce. The Lentils were cooked perfectly and were ‘swimming’ in something they ought to be – flavour. Creme caramel is a classic dessert of “cream and caramel” the thought behind it is the doughnut soaks up the caramel and the sorbet cuts the cream. The Beef is a prime cut “fillet”. It’s sourced from Mottistone Farm and Jackie Charder is known as one of the best beef suppliers on the Island the beef is 28 days hung and is 10 oz. I’ve visited the farm and can assure you it’s worth every penny.

    I know I can’t be everywhere and I would like service to raise it’s game. I genuinely apologise for your experience at the hotel in the past and I would welcome you back as a guest to sample my food.

    Yours sincerely,

    Liam Finnegan

  • STOP PRESS – I have just had an email from a Mr Liam Finnegan, the head chef at the George Yarmouth who, whilst taking no exception to your comments which were less than complimentary, takes great exception to my comments calling them unprofessional, unstructured and well, basically bloody rude.
    He makes the point that I have misjudged your photos and that as you say what appears badly presented food is in fact the opposite….!
    He also makes the perfectly reasonable comment that as I have not actually eaten at his restaurant I should keep my trap shut.
    OK…I am always quite prepared to admit when I am wrong, and so even if it does cost me £84, I will go and eat at the George and will do so with a completely open mind….and mouth !
    There are one or two points and insinuations Mr Finnegan makes which frankly flummox me, in particular one about “doughnuts” and the pudding you ate (huh?) and another one about the origins and the ‘hanging’ of the steaks, when all I took issue with was the price….but hey!
    I look forward to this avec impatience and maybe, Matt and Cat you will allow me a small corner on your website to, hopefully, set the record straight.
    Kind regards

    Matt and Cat respond: we’ll normally allow any comment that complies with our commenting policy. So go ahead and take Mr Finnegan at his word, we’d be interested to see the outcome.

  • Jayne says:

    Surely the guitars on the wall are there because wasn’t an ‘older’ rock star part owner at some stage ? Though we didn’t eat there & cannot contribute to the food review I was just surprised that they
    let me & my partner in at all ! (See ‘rock’ reference).Anyhow we had a few drinks in the garden on a sunny day in the most exceptional setting which though a few years ago the memory of which still delights me.

  • Sounds ghastly. The liver looks undercooked, with far too much eh…blood on the plate,…£28 for a fillet steak! Sorry, that is plain absurd….as they say in Hackney “Taking the P**s”…the lentils seem to be swimming in something they oughtn’t…and to serve Creme caramel which then leaks over the duo of the trio is just plain amateur. And lastly – £84 for two! Oh, come on! I went there once and as you wandered around the place for 10 minutes before we were asked what we wanted…well, we wanted a meal, but decided, unlike you, to have it…eh, somewhere else! The Royal, Ventnor….now aren’t we all getting the place it is the way forward. – All the best…come and have dinner here one day…you’ll love it – Peter K

    Matt and Cat respond:
    we might have to blame our stealthy camera for the appearance of bloodied liver, Peter. It was, in fact, just perfectly pink, and the liquid you see was the very pleasant gravy.

  • Jonathan says:

    Sounds like we had very similar experiences. Six of us went there for my grandmothers birthday a fews years back and it sounds like the service hasn’t improved at all. The prices were extortionate £18 for a sunday dinner, it wasn’t worth it! We could barely understand our server and it seemed that she had similar difficulty understanding us, on taking our order she had to come back twice to check it was correct and on when the dishes eventually arrived she didn’t know who had ordered what! We had to ask for practically everything including the wine list of all things! Worst of all was the complete lack of any vegetarian choices for my wife. A plate of overcooked beans and carrots, with far too much butter, was all they could muster, shocking! We practically had to walk out to get noticed so that we could pay the bill, it was simply the worst service I’ve ever had. I vowed never to go back and your experience has simply reinforced that decision.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.