Trengilly Wartha

Thursday night saw us taken for dinner at the Trengilly Wartha as a thank you for house-moving and earth-shifting related efforts. This is a pub/hotel hidden away down the most hair-raising twisting plummet of a track you can imagine, especially undertaken at night. Worth it when you get there though, big wooden high-backed pew-type seats in the bar, Cornish ale and good food.

Had the Hot Steak Sandwich - "marinated rib-eye steak, caramelized onions, aioli* and salad leaves in a soft ciabatta bun" - which was simply marvellous, followed by three mixed balls of Callestick Farm ice cream (incidentally, am I alone in despising rock-hard bits hidden in ice-cream? I don't know what it was supposed to be, but t'was akin to shards of brown glass being hidden in my dessert).

Oh, and moments you're glad you're alone in the loos - standing with your hands under the dryer wondering why it's not coming on, only to realise that it's actually a paper towel holder. Ahem.


* Like garlic mayonnaise that's been sneezed through a straw. Er, in a good way.