Perfect produce, great flavours … so why the glum face?
En route to The Feathered Nest in Nether Westcote, Oxfordshire, I remembered that the cool thing to say about the Cotswolds is that they are awful. A bucolic establishment bolthole where David Cameron and Jeremy Clarkson hang out eating Blur-flavoured cheese strings at one of Alex James’ regular soirées de fromages. Who’d want to live there?
OK, I’ll start: me. The Cotswolds are heavenly. Nether Westcote, for example, is close to the picturesque, medieval town of Burford, which has a high street festooned with antiques shops and charming tea rooms selling fresh, plump lardy cakes. Burford looks like the set of one of those Murder, She Wrote specials when Jessica Fletcher visits England without ever actually leaving the Universal Studios backlot, by simply flinging about ducks, scones and Aston Martins.
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