The Willoughton Wanderer

"Eating my way through life one bite at a time!"

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Eating my way through life one bite at a time! My Willoughton Wanderer blog tells the story of my various visits to eateries, pubs and restaurants, both good and bad, on my travels together with the occasional recipe thrown in for good measure.

  • Wok This Way: Chicken, Rice & a Saucy Little Stir-Fry

    Some days, the fridge yields inspiration. Other days, it yields… well, two chicken thighs, half a pepper, and that jar of black bean sauce you swore you’d use last February.

    Cue the culinary improvisation—and a dish that turned out far too delicious to be a one-off.

    This week’s wander took us no further than the kitchen, where an old wok, a hungry stomach, and a little black bean magic came together in 30 blissful minutes. It’s one of those dinners that tastes like you ordered takeout but feels like you won takeout. Savoury, sticky, a little spicy, and utterly moreish, this fried rice with chicken in black bean sauce is the lunch hero you didn’t know you needed.

    Best served hot and preferably with someone nearby to praise your culinary genius (or at least wash up after you).

    🍜 Fried Rice with Chicken in Black Bean Sauce
    Serves: 2–3
    Prep time: 15 mins
    Cook time: 15 mins

    Ingredients
    For the chicken marinade:
    • 2 chicken breasts or thighs, thinly sliced
    • 1 tsp cornflour
    • 1 tbsp soy sauce
    • 1 tsp sesame oil (optional)
    For the stir-fry:
    • 1 cup basmati rice
    • 1 tbsp vegetable oil
    • 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
    • 1 tbsp ginger, finely chopped
    • 1 small onion, sliced
    • 1 yellow pepper, sliced
    • 1 tbsp fermented black bean sauce (or 2 tbsp if you love it strong!)
    • 1 tbsp oyster sauce
    • 1 tbsp soy sauce
    • 1 tsp sugar
    • 100ml chicken stock or water
    • 1 tsp cornflour mixed with 1 tbsp cold water (slurry)
    • Optional: fresh red chilli or chilli flakes, to taste

    Instructions

    1. Marinate the chicken
      In a bowl, combine the sliced chicken with soy sauce, cornflour, and sesame oil. Set aside to marinate while you prep the other ingredients.
    2. Cook the rice
      Boil the rice until tender. Drain, return to the pan with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and gently fry until crispy and sticky.
    3. Stir-fry time!
      Heat the vegetable oil in a wok or large frying pan over medium-high heat. Add the marinated chicken and stir-fry until just cooked through. Remove from the pan and set aside.
    4. Aromatics and veg
      In the same pan, add a little more oil if needed. Add the garlic and ginger, stir for 30 seconds until fragrant, then throw in the onions and peppers. Stir-fry for 2–3 minutes until slightly softened but still crisp.
    5. Sauce it up
      Add the black bean sauce, oyster sauce, soy sauce, and sugar. Pour in the chicken stock or water and bring to a simmer.
    6. Thicken the sauce
      Return the chicken to the pan. Add the cornflour slurry and stir until the sauce thickens slightly and coats everything nicely.
    7. Serve hot
      Plate up, garnish with extra spring onions or chilli if you like a kick, and enjoy!

    🔥 Optional Extras
    • Add mushrooms, baby corn, or mange tout for extra veg.
    • Swap chicken for beef strips, tofu, or prawns.
    • A squeeze of lime and sprinkle of coriander gives it a Southeast Asian twist.”

    There’s something gloriously satisfying about scraping the last few grains of sticky rice from the pan—especially when it carries all those deep, umami flavours clinging to caramelised edges and charred veg.

    This dish has now earned itself a spot in the Wanderer’s Lunch-time Rotation (an imaginary list scrawled somewhere between the fridge and the back of my mind). Whether you’re cooking for two or stretching it with a few extra veggies for leftovers, it’s a brilliant way to breathe new life into humble ingredients.

    Next time, I might brave the bird’s eye chilli—or maybe swap the chicken for prawns if I’m feeling flash. Either way, there’ll be black bean sauce on the shopping list again… and the frying pan at the ready.

    Until next time, keep wandering—especially where your taste buds lead you.

  • Flatbreads, Friends and a Fine Fox: A Friday Lunch at Kirton

    Mrs Wanderer and I found ourselves basking in the unexpected delight of a sunny Friday as we made our way to The Fox in Kirton, Nottinghamshire — a rather smart and stylish pub that promised good things from the outset. We were meeting a couple of old friends for lunch, and from the moment we stepped inside and were greeted with a cheerful smile, we knew we were in for a treat.

    Once comfortably settled at our table, we turned our attention to the menu — a well-curated spread that left us happily dithering for a few minutes. I eventually landed on the 8oz steak burger (because, well, sometimes only a burger will do), while Mrs Wanderer plumped for the Harissa Chicken Flatbread.

    Now let me tell you, that burger was an absolute triumph. A proper, honest-to-goodness, hand-formed tower of beefy brilliance — thick, juicy, and full of flavour. The golden, crispy chips on the side were just the ticket, and the little dressed salsa added a zingy flourish. I was most content.

    Mrs W gave her flatbread a big thumbs-up on flavour — the harissa chicken packed a punch, and the shredded cabbage added a delightful crunch. However, as her plate cooled, the chicken lost a bit of its mojo, becoming slightly on the dry side. And then there was the curious case of the double-decker flatbread — two layers where one might have done — which led to a slightly doughy middle. A mystery, to be sure, and whether this was an intentional flourish or a kitchen misstep, we shall never know.

    Still, the food was tasty, the company was grand, and the setting most agreeable. All in all, a thoroughly pleasant lunch outing — and one we’re very likely to repeat. The Fox has certainly earned itself a return visit from the Wanderers!

  • Lost in Translation: A Tale of Dry Rice and Ginger Envy at Jasmine

    We dropped into Jasmine Asian Restaurant on Beverley’s main drag, Butcher Row, for what we hoped would be a light but tasty lunch. The lunch menu looked promising, so Mrs Wanderer went for the Indonesian Ginger Chicken, and I—clearly feeling adventurous—opted for the Indonesian Fried Rice with chicken. That, dear reader, was my fatal forkful.

    Out came the dishes, and mine turned out to be… well, dry. Sahara-level dry. Not a drop of sauce in sight—no gravy, no drizzle, not even a glisten. Just a mix of rice and chicken sitting there on the plate. Meanwhile, Mrs Wanderer was smugly tucking into a rather nice-looking plate of ginger chicken—tender chunks of thigh meat basking in a mellow, fragrant sauce. She was kind enough to offer me a taste, though even she admitted the sauce-to-rice ratio left a little to be desired.

    Honestly, a quick line of description under each dish on the menu would’ve made all the difference. A bit of heads-up might’ve saved me from my sad plate of solo rice and a few slices of cucumber. It’s the culinary equivalent of fine print—helpful, often overlooked, and sometimes the difference between joy and jaw work.

    That said, we’re not giving up on Jasmine. The setting was nice, the service warm, and the menu intriguing enough to tempt us back. We’ll just be ordering a little more carefully next time—and maybe bringing a hip flask of gravy.

  • Crispy Corned Beef & Tomato Hash – A One-Pan Wonder from the Store Cupboard

    When the fridge looks bare but your tastebuds crave comfort, this sizzling one-pan corned beef hash steps up as the unexpected hero. Born from humble tinned meat, a couple of salad potatoes, and a handful of cherry tomatoes, this dish delivers golden crispiness, rich savoury flavour, and a pop of juicy sweetness — all in under 20 minutes. Whether you’re rustling up a quick lunch, as this was, or a lazy weekend supper, this easy recipe proves that pantry staples can still pack a punch.

    Ingredients:

    • 1 tin of corned beef (cubed)
    • 2 cooked salad potatoes (cut into chunks)
    • A handful of cherry tomatoes (halved)
    • 1 small onion (optional if available, finely sliced)
    • 1 clove garlic (or garlic powder)
    • Olive oil or butter
    • Salt and pepper
    • Smoked paprika or cayenne (optional for heat)
    • Dried herbs (thyme or oregano work well)
    • An egg or two (optional, to top)

    Method:

    1. Prep: Cube the corned beef and cut your cooked potatoes into bite-sized pieces. Halve the cherry tomatoes.
    2. Pan-fry potatoes: Heat a good glug of oil or a knob of butter in a non-stick frying pan over medium heat. Add the potatoes and cook until they start to brown and crisp, about 5–7 minutes. Stir occasionally.
    3. Add onions and garlic (if using): Toss in the onions and cook until soft and golden. Add garlic for the last minute or use a pinch of garlic powder.
    4. Stir in corned beef: Add the cubed corned beef and break it up slightly as it warms. Let it get crispy on the edges — don’t stir too often.
    5. Tomatoes & seasoning: Add halved cherry tomatoes and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and your chosen spices/herbs. Cook for another 2–3 minutes until the tomatoes start to soften.
    6. Optional egg: If you like, push the hash to one side and fry an egg in the same pan or poach one separately. A runny yolk over the hash is a winner.
    7. Serve hot, maybe with a splash of vinegar or hot sauce if you like a kick.

    There’s something deeply satisfying about turning a few odds and ends into a meal that feels this hearty and full of flavour. The crispy edges of the potatoes, the rich, nostalgic savouriness of the corned beef, and the burst of sweetness from the tomatoes all came together like old friends round a kitchen table. No frills, no fuss — just good, honest food that hits the spot. It’s the kind of dish that reminds you why it’s worth keeping a tin or two tucked away and trusting your instincts with what’s on hand. Plates scraped clean, and not a morsel left — I’ll call that a win.

  • Two Strikes and You’re Out – A Frustrating Return to Pantry 80-20

    I really do despair of this bistro in the heart of Brigg. Having given it a second chance after a disappointing first visit (a bacon bap so dry and salty it could’ve doubled as a packet of pork scratchings), I returned hoping for a simple coffee and a better experience. Sadly, it fell flat – again.

    I approached the counter and asked for a decaf cappuccino and a flat white. The barista, who at least acknowledged me, asked if I needed a menu. I declined and stated my order. So far, so good – or so I thought.

    She gestured to a younger colleague, standing directly in front of me at the order screen, tapping away with no sense of urgency or awareness of her surroundings. I waited. And waited. No eye contact, no greeting, not even a polite “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Just silence and a glowing screen. Then, without a word, she wandered off into the back, leaving me standing there like an unwelcome interruption.

    When she eventually returned, I asked – perhaps a little too pointedly – “Oh, you are taking orders then?” This was met with the sort of blank expression usually reserved for slow broadband connections.

    If Pantry 80-20 insists on employing young staff, they might want to spend a little more time on basic customer service training – things like eye contact, manners, and not walking away mid-interaction.

    After two underwhelming visits, this place has firmly earned a spot on my “never again” list. There are far better spots in Brigg that understand hospitality doesn’t begin and end with pulling a decent espresso.

  • From Gochujang with Love: When Lentils Met King Prawn

    Sometimes the best meals begin not with a plan, but with a hopeful rummage through the cupboard. That’s exactly how this spicy little number came about—me standing in the kitchen, clutching a tin of lentils in one hand, eight rather regal-looking king prawns in the other, and wondering whether lunch was going to be a disaster or a minor culinary miracle.

    Enter gochujang: Korea’s punchy, funky, fiery answer to “boring food.” It sat at the back of the fridge like a forgotten superhero, ready to turn a simple pantry dinner into something worthy of a Netflix food special (or at least a smug blog post). Throw in some garlic, a few spices, and a bit of heat, and suddenly those humble lentils became the life of the party.

    This recipe is bold, comforting, and comes together faster than you can say “delivery’s too expensive.” It’s perfect for spicing up a weeknight or impressing a dinner guest you didn’t warn you were cooking with lentils. Trust me—this one’s a keeper.

    🍤 Korean-Spiced Prawns with Garlicky Lentils

    Ingredients:

    • 8 large king prawns, peeled and deveined
    • 1 tin of lentils (drained and rinsed)
    • 1 heaped tsp gochujang paste (adjust to heat preference)
    • 1 tsp garlic purée (or 2 cloves minced garlic)
    • 1 tbsp tomato purée
    • 1 tsp soy sauce
    • 1 tsp sesame oil (or any oil)
    • ½ tsp ground cumin
    • ½ tsp smoked paprika
    • A pinch of sugar (balances the gochujang)
    • Salt and pepper to taste
    • Optional: fresh coriander or spring onions for garnish, a squeeze of lime or lemon

    Instructions:

    1. Prep the prawns:
      • In a bowl, toss prawns with a pinch of salt, pepper, ½ tsp of gochujang, and a splash of oil. Let sit while you prepare the lentils.
    2. Cook the lentils:
      • In a pan, heat 1 tsp oil. Add garlic purée, cumin, smoked paprika, and tomato purée. Fry gently for 1 min until fragrant.
      • Stir in the lentils. Add ½ tsp gochujang, soy sauce, and a splash of water to loosen. Simmer on low for 5–7 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and a pinch of sugar.
      • Keep warm while you cook the prawns.
    3. Sear the prawns:
      • Heat a non-stick pan or grill pan until hot. Add the prawns and cook 1–2 mins per side until just pink and slightly charred.
    4. Serve:
      • Spoon the warm lentils onto a plate or shallow bowl. Top with the sizzling prawns.
      • Drizzle with a little sesame oil, a squeeze of citrus, and scatter with herbs or spring onions if using.

    🍽️ Serving Ideas:

    • Serve with warm flatbreads or rice.
    • Add a fried egg on top for a Korean bibimbap-style twist.
    • For extra veg, stir spinach or kale into the lentils before serving.

  • Curried Sardine & Boiled Egg Stir-Fry

    “A Tin of Sardines, Two Eggs, and a Dream: How I Curry-ied On Regardless”

    Let’s face it—there comes a point in every home cook’s life when dinner is less MasterChef and more Ready, Steady, What’s-In-The-Cupboard? That moment struck me squarely between the eyebrows one sunny Saturday morning, when my culinary arsenal amounted to: one lonely tin of sardines in sunflower oil, two eggs (bless them), and a single spring onion clinging to life in the crisper drawer.

    Some might see this as a culinary cul-de-sac. I saw it as a challenge—a chance to curry favour with fate, quite literally. With a few trusty spices and a touch of imagination, I transformed my fridge-foraged finds into something that wouldn’t look out of place in a street food stall in Mumbai… if that stall happened to be run by a British person on a budget.

    What followed was a gloriously savoury stir-fry: bold, spicy, surprisingly sophisticated, and—let’s be honest—way better than it had any right to be. So if you’re staring into the abyss of your pantry wondering whether sardines and eggs could ever be friends, rest assured: with a little spice and sass, they’re a match made in weekend heaven.

    Read on, hungry wanderer. Curry awaits.

    Ingredients:

    • 1 tin sardines in sunflower oil (drained slightly, reserve some oil)
    • 2 boiled eggs (peeled and chopped or sliced)
    • 1 spring onion (finely chopped)
    • ½ tsp cumin seeds (optional)
    • ½ tsp turmeric
    • ½ tsp curry powder or garam masala
    • ¼ tsp chilli powder (optional or to taste)
    • Salt and pepper to taste
    • Fresh coriander or lemon juice (optional)

    Method:

    1. Prep the sardines and eggs: Drain the sardines (keeping a bit of the oil), break them gently into chunks. Chop or slice the boiled eggs.
    2. Heat the oil: In a frying pan, heat the reserved sardine oil (plus extra oil or butter if needed). Add cumin seeds and let them sizzle (if using).
    3. Cook the spring onion: Add the chopped spring onion and sauté for 1–2 minutes until softened.
    4. Add spices: Stir in turmeric, curry powder, and chilli powder. Fry the spices for 30 seconds until fragrant.
    5. Add sardines: Gently stir in the sardines and cook for 2–3 minutes to warm through and slightly crisp up the edges.
    6. Add boiled eggs: Fold in the chopped boiled eggs and mix gently so the eggs soak up the spiced oil and flavour. Season with salt and pepper.
    7. Finish: Optional – add a squeeze of lemon juice or a sprinkle of chopped coriander.

    Serving ideas:

    • Spoon over toast or serve with warm naan or rice.
    • Turn it into a sandwich or wrap.
    • Serve with a dollop of plain yogurt or chutney.

  • The Crown in Rolleston: A Lunch Date Review

    We had a lunch date lined up with friends at The Crown in Rolleston, Nottinghamshire — and we were pretty excited. The last time we visited (back when it was called The Vineyard and served unexpectedly brilliant tapas), the food had been a total triumph. Now, under new management, The Crown has gone back to its roots with classic pub grub. Fair enough, we thought — how wrong could it go?

    Well, first glance at the menu gave us a clue. “Lite bites” were thin on the ground — just three sandwich options: roast beef and horseradish cream, prawn mayo, or a cheese toastie. Not exactly spoilt for choice. Worse still, not a single salad in sight. Mrs Wanderer had her heart set on a chicken Caesar drowning in anchovies, but alas, dreams were dashed. No Salade Niçoise, no grilled halloumi — nada. Maybe they’re saving salads for Summer? We live in hope.

    Still, being eternal optimists, Mrs W and I ordered the beef lasagne, thinking we’d chosen a lighter option. Big mistake. HUGE. What arrived was less a lasagne and more a beefy skyscraper, layered sky-high and molten hot. Absolutely delicious, to be fair, but subtle it was not. Mrs W surrendered halfway through and waved the white flag; I (perhaps foolishly) soldiered on and finished mine. The garlic bread on the side, sadly, was a let down — grey, anaemic, and bearing only the faintest rumour of ever having met a garlic clove. Oh well. You can’t win them all.

    Tom ordered the Crown Double Cheeseburger, promising two all-steak patties and secret sauce goodness. The burger looked a bit shy for the description, but Tom wolfed it down in minutes and tackled the chunky fries like a champ. Watching him, I couldn’t help but wonder if that might’ve been the lighter option after all. Life’s full of regrets.

    Tony, meanwhile, went rogue and ordered the pork and pink peppercorn pie — a bit of a tongue-twister, but at least the kitchen was happy to swap his mash for chunky chips. Tony declared it pulled pork-ish and very tasty. We’ll take his word for it.

    As for me, by 8 PM, the lasagne was still sitting in my stomach like a concrete block. Light lunch, it was not.

    In the end, we had a fun afternoon, even if the food left a few boxes unticked. A few more sandwich and salad options would have been very welcome. But hey — every place deserves a second shot. We’ll be back in Summer, clinging to the hope that a Caesar salad might finally make an appearance!

  • The Red Lion in Redbourne: Food and Service Insights

    Mrs. Wanderer and I popped into the Red Lion in Redbourne, Lincolnshire for a cheeky Good Friday lunch—one of our favourite local spots. The place was buzzing (no surprise on a holiday!), and although we hadn’t booked, we slipped in behind another unbooked couple. Our young waitress looked momentarily startled (think “rabbit in headlights”), but she soon recovered and showed us to a cosy booth just around the corner from the bar—right opposite the loos, though thankfully no funny smells!

    When she returned, we didn’t waste any time ordering both drinks and food in one go. We asked for ginger ales with ice, only to discover they had none. Strange for a pub not to stock it. Undeterred, we opted for crisp lemonade instead.

    For our mains, Mrs. Wanderer went for her beloved battered haddock goujons (complete with chips and mushy peas), and I revisited the Southern-fried chicken strips (served with chips, coleslaw, and a dressed salad). The fish was spot-on—golden, flaky, and devoured in record time (after a hasty request for tartare sauce). My chicken strips, however, were a tad drier and chewier than on previous visits, and my chips looked like they’d lingered a little too long under the heat lamp. We also noticed the portions seemed a smidge smaller—could this be the cost-of-living pinch in action?

    Curiously, not a single staff member checked in on us once we’d started eating or even when we popped over to pay at the bar—maybe they were just swamped with the holiday rush. While settling our bill, we spied the drinks chiller and confirmed: no ginger ale in sight (though there was plenty of tonic water and a lone bottle of pink lemonade). We wondered how they handle a whisky‑and‑ginger order!

    All in all, a lively afternoon with just a couple of hiccups. Despite the missing ginger ale and slightly overcooked chicken, we’ll probably be back.

  • Pantry 8020: A Breakfast Disappointment

    As someone who enjoys a good café stop during my travels, I had high hopes when I stepped into Pantry 8020 in Brigg for a simple but satisfying breakfast: a flat white and a bacon sandwich. Unfortunately, my experience was far from enjoyable. The first disappointment came when I couldn’t find a bacon sandwich listed on the breakfast and brunch menu. However, when I asked, I was assured that it wouldn’t be a problem. That small reassurance gave me hope, but it quickly faded when my order arrived.

    What was meant to be a sandwich turned out to be a small brioche bun—hardly the hearty breakfast I had envisioned. But the real letdown was the bacon itself. There’s a fine line between crispy and dry, and sadly, this bacon had crossed into the realm of brittle and overly salty. To make matters worse, the rashers were bizarrely thick—around a quarter of an inch—making for an unpleasant texture and an unbalanced bite.

    Overall, it was a disappointing experience. A simple breakfast should be enjoyable, not a struggle. With so many excellent cafés out there, I won’t be making a return visit to Pantry 8020.