Restaurant review: The Rickety Press

‘All I need now is a large beanbag and a good DVD, a bit of Bond maybe, preferably here, just in the corner,” Mr Greedy said hopefully, peering around the newly refurbished Rickety Press, looking for a suitable hidey-hole.

“He’s changed his tune,” I thought. An hour ago he was rhapsodising endlessly about the steak he’d had and how amazing it was, his excitement rather disconcerting in its blatant lust. His partner in crime Mr Africa, with whom he’d shared the 1,100g of côte de boeuf at a rate of knots, agreed.

I was entirely superfluous to their orgy of steak eating as they licked their lips like comic book characters, rolled up their sleeves and got stuck in, as keen as Desperate Dan on National Cow Pie Day. “I haven’t had a piece of meat this good all year,” Mr Greedy observed, as his running commentary of meat-friendly observations began.

The Simply Beef campaign should have signed him there and then, such was the extent of his ruminations. “I can’t remember ever eating meat with this much flavour,” Mr Africa coerced, as if he needed encouraging.

“And it’s such good meat you can eat more of it, if that makes any sense, because it’s such good quality,” they droned on, exclusive members in this mutual appreciation society from which I was excluded.

I just ignored them and carried on eating my pithivier (£13), which is pronounced without the ‘h’ so it doesn’t sound as if you’ve got a lisp, which although delightful hadn’t resulted in the same level of praise, the accompanying remoulade needing to be a bit more juicy.

I could see what they meant however. Their dish when it arrived was laid out on the board ready sliced with three sauces to accompany it (pictured below right) — peppercorn, Bearnaise and Cafe De Paris, as well as some deliciously crunchy string fries, although as it’s only available for two people and priced at £48 I was glad they enjoyed it so fervently.

But I wasn’t surprised because The Rickety Press has always been superb, even before undertaking its second mammoth refurb job since opening in 2011. In that time not only has it achieved a recent Bib Gourmand, but also managed a glowing write-up in the recent Good Food Guide.

In fact, ever since the former Radcliffe Arms was converted into this bustling pub on the side streets of Jericho it’s been a raging hit, almost becoming a victim of its own success in the process. Because such is its popularity, there simply wasn’t enough room at the inn, with punters cramming into the tiny eating area at the back, desperate to see what all the fuss was about, and then spreading the word and making the situation worse.

So they did,what any decent landlords would do during their busiest period, and closed it by day to undertake the enormous expansion project, turning the former leaky conservatory into a large dining area and redoing the kitchens while they were at it, reopening at night.

The result is the same as before, but bigger — great food worth shouting about in a lovely, welcoming, unpretentious city centre pub. And having been champing at the bit to see the finished product we were delighted to get a table on such a busy Thursday night.

Starting off with the pear and Oxford blue salad with chicory, red chard and honey-mustard dressing, which was perfectly balanced, the rather meek crab and tiger prawn cannelloni with shellfish bisque and basil (£9) and the wonderfully warming French onion soup (£6.50) from the specials board, we hit our stride early.

But I was to blame officer for suggesting the cote de boeuf, simply because the boys, when perusing the menu, both commented on the fact that they’d never tried it and weren’t quite sure what it was.

When manager Frederick Samengo Turner explained it’s basically a large, sliced, rib-eye, a single rib cut from the centre of a full rib of beef, they still looked quite scared and voiced concerns about managing to consume that volume of meat, until Fred reminded them the 1,100g weight included the bones as well.

They did, however, get their comeuppance afterwards, all their greed and gusto having dissipated as their stomachs swelled and their buttons began popping off like Tom Kitten or Augustus Gloop, and I delighted in my wanton consumption of the beautifully delicate crème caramel (£4.50) and can report it was to die for.

Not that I want to detract from their meal because I received a text just this morning from Mr Africa, weeks after the event which said: “still thinking about that côte de boeuf.”,which says it all really.

In fact my only other piece of advice to The Rickety Press would be to be very nice to their butcher.

The Rickety Press
67 Cranham Street, Oxford.
OX2 6DE
01865 424581 www.thericketypress.com
 

Opening times: Mon-Thurs: 12-11pm. Fri-Sat: 12-12am. Sun: 12-11pm
Parking: A resident’s parking permit and a small car are vital, otherwise no
Key personnel: Four school friends: Directers Christopher Manners and Leo Johnson, general manager Frederick Samengo Turner (pictured below) and head chef Andrew Holland.
Need to know: Sister restaurant/pub to The Rusty Bicycle in Magdalen Road
Make sure you try the... You must have worked that out by now
In ten words: The accolades speak for themselves so go and enjoy yourself.