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BMW's Michelin-Starred Journey
15/12/09
You may recall that BMW were advertising this particular car in connection with Joel Robuchon. The German precision engineering, you see, is akin to the Frenchman’s Michelin-starred cooking. Or is it? Well, there’s only one way to find out and so, armed with the car, a fork and a long standing invite to the Old Pulteney distillery in Wick, I took the 730d north on a hybrid of foodie pilgrimage and road test. Besides, it’s a big car. It could handle an ever-increasing driver!
When it comes to pilgrimages north, you need a spiritual starting point in the south. That was provided by Rye, one of the few UK locations that still has a fishing industry AND public access to the catch. It also has an annual Scallop Festival, a celebration of delicious bivalves that provided both a perfect start and the first of many metaphors. Over lunch at the charming Ypres Castle, BMW’s foodie claims started to make sense. Lunch was top quality, straightforward with the occasional flourish, as was the car – although the car, admittedly, doesn’t come atop unctuous black pudding.
In an ideal world, I’d have stayed in Rye, and in the Ypres, and taken advantage of the rather good Harveys beers on offer. However, when you’re balancing driving and dining, you have to pass on the beery joys. It was a disappointment, but a short-lived one as, from Rye, it was foot down – sort of, it doesn’t take much pressure – to the New Forest and The Montagu Arms.
The Montagu received a Michelin star in early 2009. Like the Beamer, it provides a few modern twists to old-fashioned, solid principles. It’s no surprise then that both wear their respective badges with such pride.
Dinner and the squidgy bed at the Montagu meant a fine night’s sleep and so, after a lightish breakfast of poached haddock, it was back in the car for the push north. Sort of. You can rush in a car like this – and it’s comfortable enough to keep driving for hours – but why would you, particularly when a small detour can get you to Marlow for lunch in the Hand & Flowers?
That venue provided yet more BMW/Michelin-starred pub grub analogies, about things that aren’t perfect – a soggy soufflé, the frustrating iDrive – but, overall, are still very easy to like. They have surprising similarities in terms of economy too. Lunch at the Hand & Flowers is a bargain at two courses for ten pounds. BMW claim average consumption of 39mpg. They’re modest. I averaged 41mpg over assorted terrains, motorways, and a single track masquerading as an A road: if it requires passing places it's not a bloody A road, alright!
From Marlow, it was a relatively short hop to Chipping Camden, a town so pretty it could be a Cotswolds theme park. It proved frustrating though. For the car, it was the lack of big roads – under 40mph, it feels like a German porn star, urging “schnelle, schnelle”, er, Liebling. For the driver it was the Blumenthal-wannabe chef at the Cotswold House desperately missing the mark. Ambition is great if you have the talent and quality to back it up. The car has it. The chef doesn’t.
The hotel itself though is beautiful but, as I’ve already done a modern flair/classic styling reference, I’ll talk ‘extras’ instead, like the pillow menu (‘duck feather, goose or synthetic?’) and the bath TV. The car is similarly well appointed: Bluetooth, iPod connectivity, reversing cameras, drift, blindspot and parking sensors... and the infamous, Clarkson-baiting iDrive. The awkward positioning I understand – right hand drive means you have to negotiate the iDrive left-handed – but why can’t you put whole postcodes into the sat nav? That’s just silly. Never mind. The engine makes you forget such niggles. The next leg to Manchester brought about the first chance to try the car on the open motorway and, well, wow. I reckon I hit 0-60 in 5.1 seconds. And if it wasn’t illegal – cough, splutter – I could tell you that 70 to 120mph takes a smidge under six seconds, but if you’d prefer to know BMW’s official figures, they are 0-100 km in 7.2 seconds.
The penthouse suite of the Manchester Radisson Edwardian offered superb views over this reinvented city and, inevitably, a BMW metaphor: underneath that classic, functional surface beats a racy heart. There’s good eating in Manchester too, and next time you’re at Old Trafford, head ten minutes out to Isinglass instead for ox cheek stew served with black pudding mash and kale with bacon and cream. Doesn’t that sound better than a prawn sandwich? And surely nobody in their right mind could resist a starter of Welsh Rarebit-topped crumpet? From Manchester, it was the joyous open roads to and through the Lake District, some of the best countryside driving the UK has to offer. The car ate up the miles and showed off on the curves... and then we reached Cartmel.
Cartmel was always likely to be a stop-off, given the spectacular dinner/accommodation pairing available at L’Enclume, Simon Rogan’s delightful Michelin-starred restaurant. However, the roads and gateways – particularly the gateways – predate cars of the 730d’s size, especially when it comes to parking. It wasn’t the easiest of negotiations, but the power steering and parking sensors made relatively light work of the challenge and car and Cartmel escaped unscathed. L’Enclume is worth any such hassles though. The room was Lake District meets New York loft, the meal was top three of all time – challenging, original, delicious and witty – and proof that a lot of thought goes into these luxurious end products...
While the postcode-related frustrations of the iDrive continued, the satellite linkage came into its own the following morning, during the long drive to Aberdeen. A voice warned that there were jams ahead and found me an alternative route within seconds. The detour took me under the traffic problem, a tailback of several miles, which generated a VERY smug grin that stayed fixed until I reached The Marcliffe Hotel. With its comfortable rooms and cracking restaurant, I was out of BMW metaphors, but full of impeccable steak and meaty King Crab. Actually, a restaurant that hasn’t greatly reinvented the wheel, but just delivers grade A quality time after time. Add that to the list...
From Aberdeen, and full of prime Scottish breakfast, it was north to Wick and my end destination. That – oh joy – meant the A9, which has to be the single best driving road in the UK. Inland it’s lochs, mountains and stunning countryside. On the coast it’s spectacular cliff tops, uphill hairpin bends and the odd dual carriageway for a car like this to skip past slow moving tankers. The BMW loved it. So did the driver.
The driver also loved Old Pulteney. If your experience of distillery visitor centres is the sanitised version most places offer, go north to this proper working distillery. Like the car, it’s the culmination of years of evolution and thought. It’s also a brilliant product. I can certainly recommend Cask 2993, which was matured in bourbon barrels for 13 years before I got to remove 70cls and fill my own bottle. A bottle that, not particularly ironically, I’ve done my best to empty ever since...
The evening was spent in Helmsdale, a little south of Wick, in a charming B&B called The Bridge. After a hearty dinner and a few nips from my bottle, I woke up late – the events may have been connected – but suitably refreshed and in the mood for a detour cross country to The Torridon. Because when a place has loch views, 320 different single malts in the bar AND makes its own black pudding, quite frankly you make the detour.
The Torridon is tucked away at the end of the UK’s oddest A road: that aforementioned windy track with tiny passing places. According to the car – there’s a display that tells you such things – the speed limit was 60. Could it be done? Yes, but it was truly terrifying and the driver bottled it way before the car did.
Missing the metaphors? Don’t worry, they’re coming back, thanks to the inevitable comparisons between The Torridon and my next stop, Edinburgh’s five star hotel, The Scotsman. The Torridon works around its minor limitations with warmth, lovely hospitality, and inclusive extras like a sherry decanter, free wifi and, for solo travellers, the furry companionship of Torridon Ted. Ooh, look, that makes it almost as feature packed as the BMW, he adds, somewhat inevitably. The Scotsman, while undoubtedly the most glamorous room of the trip, charges for everything. Wifi at eight quid an hour? I can go online in my car for less than that, mate. No. I can. Really.
It’s a crying shame. The staff at The Scotsman were excellent, the building is beautiful and the room, with its views of Waverley Park and the Scott Memorial, was spectacular. Its restaurant, The North Bridge Brasserie, is also a charmer and provided one of the best dining experiences of the trip. You also have to admire the way the sprawling old Scotsman newspaper offices have been converted into a luxury hotel. But when you’re paying £850 for a room, do you really want to be reminded that the toiletries cost x pounds, that EVERYTHING in the minibar has a price and that even the water bottle, should you take it away, will be charged at a rate of fourteen quid? You half expect the toilet paper to have a price label on every sheet... I know you have to pay for extras – a look at the BMW catalogue will tell you the same thing – but sometimes you do expect a little more bang for the buck.
Yorkshire’s excellent Feversham Arms came next, a hotel that demonstrates the importance of passion, vision and a desire to get the details perfect. Just like the BMW, in fact. Mind you, as well appointed as it is, the car doesn’t have a great spa, offer you intense deep tissue massages – I doubt my masseuse has ever had a problem opening a jar – or give you ham, egg and chips as a starter...
And so, finally, came the long cruise back to London. The car was purring, the driver was... well, heavier. Given that it was the last full day with the car, it seemed a shame to rush so, after telling the iDrive to avoid the obvious motorways, we meandered through the English countryside for an enjoyable few hours, slowly eking our way south.
As London loomed ever closer, we decided a swansong was in order and so we called in at Luton Hoo instead. It’s a beautiful stately home with a fine restaurant, a spa and elegant rooms. The golf course is good too and, thanks to the 500 litre boot space, the clubs were on hand.
If you thought Luton had nothing going for it, you should re-evaluate. If you thought the same about BMW, well, the same rule applies.
Ypres Castle Inn,
The Montagu Arms
The Hand & Flowers
Cotswold House
Isinglass Restaurant
L’Enclume
The Marcliffe Hotel
The Bridge Hotel
The Torridon
The Scotsman
Feversham Arms
Luton Hoo
