Pompette
Oxford, Oxfordshire
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To dine well in Oxford, bypass the chain-dominated city centre and head out to those neighbourhoods where the locals themselves eat. Standing proud in Summertown, Pompette is owned by chef Pascal Wiedemann and his wife Laura (who runs front-of-house) and doesn’t look a million miles away from Terroirs (RIP) – the London venue where Wiedemann made his name: think brick walls, polished floorboards and oxblood banquettes (plus a lovely raised terrace out front). The menu, too, continues Wiedemann’s love of rustic French cooking: la France profonde rather than prétentieuse. It is reassuring not radical, with attention paid to little details designed to foster local custom rather than tourists passing through: the chewy baguettes baked on site are reason enough for repeat visits. You can also drop by for expertly mixed after-work cocktails and faultless croquetas: sweet studs of Ibérico ham bound with Manchego-enriched mash and encased in a crisp, golden crumb. The menu changes regularly. Cervelle de canut – the creamy fresh cheese from Lyon, here herb-flecked and swirled atop crunchy fried bread – might be followed by a rabbit leg with the meaty texture of a life spent happily hopping around. It's all very comme il faut, but there’s creativity on offer when the season requires it: our late-summer starter featured a jumble of sweetcorn, spätzle and 'trompette de la mort' mushrooms lubricated by a crispy egg. Likewise a dessert of cream-filled choux, glazed with a caramel shell, surrounded with a scattering of boozy griottine cherries and then doused with hot chocolate sauce poured from a jug, should not be missed. Pompette is the French word for ‘tipsy’. It feels an appropriate description for a restaurant that, once the bill is signed, leaves one with a warm glow of fuzzy pleasure rather than a regretful hangover.
