The Panty-gwydr. For a restaurant promising authentic French cuisine it doesn't sound French. Nor is its location on a back street just away from the town centre auspicious. Husband is equally suspicious because we can get a table on a Saturday night at short notice. But as our first choices are fully booked and it has been recommended to me we go for it.
I booked it for his birthday last December too but then ended up in hospital so we didn't get there so I was tempting fate when we were slipping down the muddy valley path in the afternoon and I joked about breaking my ankle. But I didn't so this time we got there.
And it was very busy! Which might explain why the woman who came to our table immediately to tell us about the changes to the lamb dishes on the menu, didn't greet us and looked, I was going to say grumpy but maybe straight-faced is more accurate, all evening. I didn't see her smile once. I'm not sure if she were the owner or manager but she seemed to be feeling the pressure. The waitresses on the other hand were pleasant.
Our appetisers didn't arrive until just after our starters but all the food was good. Husband had traditional French fish soup, followed by Tournedos Rossini, followed by Le Vanille (a trio of mini desserts, including pannacotta, creme brulee and something else).
I had pressed chicken with red onion marmalade, duck in cider sauce and Le Caramel (again a trio of mini desserts). Sadly my phone camera was full and wouldn't let me take any photos or I'd have been able to make your mouth water.
The only problem was the smell. There was a strange smell that only I could smell. It wasn't a food smell, in fact it wasn't anything identifiable. It was really irritating me and putting me off my food. I even tried sniffing the old wood beam next to me in case it was in that but it wasn't.
It wasn't until we'd nearly finished our meal that Husband noticed that the gents' toilet was just behind me. It wasn't a toiletty smell or even a normal air freshener smell but that it was a smelly anti-smell device of some sort was the only conclusion I could come to.
If we go again I'll make sure that we don't sit in the same place. And we may go again as the food was very good. Having said that neither of us could remember the last time we ate out so talking about the next time may be premature.