Brunch At The Potting Shed And A Forest Drive

Late this morning Jackie drove us to The Potting Shed café at Hyde for an excellent brunch.

Over the years we have been in The New Forest this café has undergone several changes of name and management; the current partners have completely turned it around.

For my very first time I have simply copied these extracts from their own website. I could not have expressed them better:

About The Establishment

“Welcome to the Potting Shed! We are so glad that you are considering stopping by, we strive to make each visit truly enjoyable, from the moment you walk through the door to the time you leave.

“We offer a true Forest Café experience with a cosy atmosphere and homemade food all sourced locally. Our menu is inspired by flavours of the season so you will find a varied choice, including firm family favourites and daily specials. Surrounded by the beauty that is the New Forest with the fantastic Donkeys, Ponies and Deer there is much to do nearby including scenic walks, cycling and a water park. There is something for everyone from the idyllic lazy-day stroll through to those seeking a little more adventure.

“We would love to see you and make your visit unforgettable. So come on, join us and let us spoil you.

Explore the New Forest

“Nestled in the heart of the breathtaking New Forest National Park. Our café is the perfect starting point for your next adventure, offering a warm and cosy atmosphere where you can fuel up before exploring the park’s stunning natural beauty. We’re passionate about the New Forest and its surroundings, and we’re proud to call this magical place our home. Our café is a reflection of our love for the park, and we’re excited to share its wonders with you. At our café, we believe that the New Forest is a true national treasure, and we’re thrilled to be a part of this special community. Come and see for yourself why our café is the perfect spot to explore this natural wonderland, whether you are looking for a quaint tea-room for a traditional afternoon tea in the New Forest or something more to prepare you for a hike across the heath.

BOOK A TABLE

Homegrown

“Here at the Potting Shed, we are passionate about growing our own veg, it might not look like the poster carrot, but it does taste so much better. We have spent hours growing our veg and herbaceous plants and we are so proud to be able to sell these direct to you from our café and in our food.

Locally Sourced

“Everything we do is for the community we know and love. Whether it is serving the friendly faces we have grown to recognise or using the produce around us. Ultimately, we believe that local is best. Fewer air miles, more heart and 100% satisfaction guarantee.

Homemade

There’s no place like home and, here at The Potting Shed, we firmly believe that a meal out should be a home from home for you. However, we want to do it better. We pride ourselves on being feeders and feeding people on only the best produce, cooked with love, by us, fresh for you.”

The warmth and pleasure expressed above are well matched by the attentive and careful service, as is the quality of the food.

I thoroughly enjoyed my The Full Works breakfast, while Jackie did the same with her Mini version.

Once I had cleared a little space on mine, revealing items at first

covered by the bacon, I photographed it again so further ingredients could be seen – note the tasty pork and leek sausage, black pudding, and hash brown. I had eaten the other half of tomato.

Whilst there is a cattle grid outside preventing direct access from the

donkeys that can usually be encountered around the corner, drivers do sometimes meet them on the way in.

Now for the drive:

The verges and fields were dotted with numerous catkins and

snowdrops, while ponies similarly stippled Blissford Hill.

As I disembarked to photograph alpacas in the Godshill farm they trooped off to collect their dinner.

Ponies, ignoring the fact that the bright sunshine belied the cold weather, soaked up what warmth they could on the Woodgreen common.

From Woodgreen through Hale Purlieu stretches a long straight road with ancient hedgerows. The mossy tree-roots must have witnessed generations of the joggers we often see on their runs, like the two we met today.

Ponies basked in the open woodland opposite the high banks.

The residents of Lover have cooperated with enthusiasm to celebrate the upcoming Valentine’s Day. This small gallery is mine,

supplementing Jackie’s longer one.

The thatcher of this cottage roof has, with the addition of colour, taken the traditional straw animals to a completely new level.

This evening we dined on Ferndene pork and apple sausages, boiled potatoes, parsnips, cauliflower, carrots, broccoli, spinach and gravy, with which I drank more of the Douro

Harbingers Of Spring

With a weak sun periodically lifting the grey of the day, after a shop at Tesco Jackie and I drove into the forest, where we found reflecting pools continuing along the lanes and verges,

such as those of Bisterne Close;

Forest Road, where one rather bewildered gull looked bemused as a flock of others took off when we arrived;

and Beckley Common Road, along which the worst potholes have actually recently been filled.

This latter road also harbours discarded wheelbarrows beside mossy roots like those on the bank at the other end of

Bennets Lane from

The White Buck pub.

Another wrecked van has been dumped on the path to a house off Molsley Passage. I hope the residents take comfort from the

golden gorse landscape they can look out on.

Currently the ubiquitous blackthorn rivals the splendour of the gorse.

Although we are certainly seeing harbingers of spring, ponies like this one on Bisterne Close are retaining their shaggy winter coats.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s tasty penne Bolognese with Parmesan cheese. I added Scotch Bonnet sauce to mine. The Culinary Queen and Ian both drank Blue Moon and I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

A Roll In The Leaves

On another sunny, bright, and cold day a brisk morning foray into a garden somewhat

iced up, as on the surface of this water-filled trug,

revealed our model pig celebrating his escape from crushing by the recently fallen tree by casting his shadows across the patio paving.

On the rooftop, the jackdaws are vociferously laying their customary claim to nesting rights in the disused chimney pots.

This afternoon we took a forest drive to Bisterne Close and back.

The decorated post box in Wootton Road now celebrates New Year.

The water-filled woodland as we turn into the close reflected the low sun peering through the trees.

The woodland floor is now dry enough to crackle the leaves, yet still fresh enough for mossy roots.

Ponies wandered freely;

one enjoyed a roll in the leaves, rising in the usually ungainly fashion and wandering off, oblivious of the coat of leaves it now wore.

I spotted Jackie photographing the woodland some distance off and only later realised that she was intrigued by wondering how this hollowed trunk could remain standing.

More sunlight reflections bounced from the icy surface of the close’s seasonal pool.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s tasty beef pie; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and broccoli, and thick, meaty, gravy with which the Culinary Queen finished the Spanish rosado and I drank Carménère Reserva Privada 2022

Woodland Ponies

On this first dry day for a while I was able to tramp among ponies

reappearing in the woodland, through which the sun occasionally filtered, dappling the trees. Recent rains have kept the mossy roots shining bright. The tepees of branches are human structures for the benefit of insects and other wildlife.

This evening we all dined on racks of spare ribs in barbecue sauce on a bed of Jackie’s colourful savoury rice, with tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the shiraz.

Hale Purlieu And Godshill

Yesterday having been Bill’s 90th Birthday, Helen hosted open house today, so, carrying gifts, Jackie and I visited for a short time in the afternoon where we also met John, Stephanie, Billy, Max, and Rory; David and Jenny; and, briefly, Rachel. Helen provided plentiful snacks and a variety of beverages.

We retuned home through the forest via Hale, where cattle were in the

process of leaving the green and following walkers down the rocky sward of the hill.

Further on along the Purlieu ponies on the march rustled and thudded

in the woodland, or, with frisky foals, clopped along the tarmac flanked by mossy roots on raised banks and sculptural piles of similarly greened logs.

On the approach to Godshill we encountered another mare and foal. Note the wooden posts intended to deter drivers from parking on the verges.

We arrived home in time to see the last set of the Wimbledon Men’s tennis final between Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokavic.

Then we all dined on Jackie’s lemon chicken and savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Passamano Frappato Syrah 2021.

Equine Siesta

This afternoon we took a drive out to Pilley, first to book a table at Fleur de Lys, then to have another look at the new foal. The pub was no longer serving meals and would close again in two weeks until new management took over; there was no pony in sight in the village. So we were doubly disappointed yet counted our blessings for having seen the new foal yesterday.

We turned to the Red Lion to make our evening booking.

We drove on to Holmsley, where we felt sure we would see some wild life. This was not to be, and confirmed our growing feeling that ponies at least enjoy a siesta on either side of our lunchtime.

Although some could be seen on distant moorland through the trees alongside Bisterne Close, trilling birdsong was the only sign of life in the woodland.

I wandered among shade-patterned and nibbled trunks with mossy roots;

fallen tree remnants with peeling bark;

decaying branches contributing to the ecology;

and a teepee erected as a shelter for small creatures of all kinds.

The seasonal pond now sports flowing kingcups and iris shoots.

By the time we returned home via Holmsley Passage the previously empty gorse landscapes were populated by grazing ponies, others of

which foraged among grasses on the lower slopes.

The postbox outside the cottage on Wootton Road is ready for the weekend’s Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla.

This evening we all dined on excellent fare with friendly service at the aforementioned Red Lion at Pilley where Flo and I enjoyed battered haddock, chips, and peas; Jackie, Cajun chicken burger, chips, and salad; and Dillon steak and ale pie; we all shared onion rings. Jackie and Dillon drank Peroni; Flo, Apple juice; and I, Ringwoods forty-niner. We then returned home for Flo’s delicious banana cake and clotted cream.

Ecological Duties

Much of my day was spent on time consuming administration involving e-mails, phone calls, and research concerning blogs, electricity consumption, and on line banking..

Later, after making purchases at Ferndene Farm Shop Jackie drove me briefly round the forest.

Irises have pierced the ground beneath the surface of the reflecting Winterborne pool upon which camellia blooms have mysteriously arrived alongside Bisterne Close. How did the flowers get there?

Mossy tree roots hold firm on the corner of Bisterne Close and

Bennetts Lane, opposite which a tree, toppled

and sawn up a few years ago is steadily carrying out its ecological duties by degenerating into dust to replenish the soil.

A pair of ponies foraged between burnt gorse stems and golden gorse alongside Holmsley Passage.

This evening Jackie and I enjoyed second helpings of yesterday’s Red Chilli takeaway accompanied by Hoegaarden and the last of the Malbec, while Flo and Dillon consumed Ferndene sausages, carrots, mashed potato and broccoli, and Ellie was happy with Mashed potato and mango chutney juice.

Shadow-Streaked Woodland

Although still cold, today was brighter and sunnier, casting long shadows early this afternoon, so we took a short forest drive after lunch.

Tempting me out of the car, a trio of ponies grazed or snoozed on the moorland outside Sway.

I then tramped over the shadow-streaked woodland floor featuring meandering fingers of mossy roots carpeted with golden, glinting, leaves on the approach to Bisterne Close.

This area has its share of decaying trees gradually returning to the soil;

and of scooped out bowls of winterbourne pools reflecting now skeletal trees on their surface on which float fallen leaves slowly descending like rocking canoes onto their clear beds.

Although the anonymous knitter of Pilley Street appears to have stopped decorating her letter box with the death of Queen Elizabeth, the group in Tiptoe Road are continuing their work.

This Christmas offering was rather windswept when I photographed it on our way home.

This evening we dined on tender roast lamb; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes, some softer ones being sweet; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower, and meaty gravy with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Gran Selone, and Flo and Dillon drank fruit juice cordial.

A Damp Drive

On another day of gales, gloom, and bursts of weak sunshine our brief forest drive took us along

Bisterne Close,

with its glistening autumn leaves soaking on soggy verges;

its mossy rooted and speckled lichen coated trees;

other one-eyed specimens with fanged exposed roots rising from ancient hedgerows;

a Magnum mushroom;

and bedraggled ponies wandering across into the woodland.

On the outskirts of Burley I disturbed a herd of fearful deer who didn’t know which way to run.

A so often when we dine beneath heavy rain beating on our Velux window overhead with gale force winds gusting outside, we blessed Barry for sealing our kitchen extension roof after several others had failed. Tonight’s meal consisted of pork spare ribs in sweet barbecue sauce with Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice and tender green beans, accompanied by more of the Cabernet Sauvignon for her, and of the Bordeaux for me.

Alfresco Dining

Much of this sunny morning was spent reminiscing with Becky.

Jackie and I lunched at our normal time. We then joined the others for theirs at The Beachcomber Café, Barton on Sea.

Flo took this photograph on the approach to the café.

Jackie and I enjoyed drinks while the others were impressed with the quality of the food served. Because the albeit extensive establishment was so full we had to dine alfresco and wait in line for that. The service of this family-run business was nevertheless friendly and efficient. As can be seen, Ian occupied himself with Sudokus, while Becky and Flo conversed happily. The final picture in this gallery is our granddaughter’s.

She also photographed me reacting to the apparent seizing up of my shutter while I was trying to capture

shadows of other diners. Fortunately the problem was resolved before they departed.

When we had finished at Beachcomber the others drove back to the house while Jackie and I continued into the forest. Foraging ponies grazed on the soggy turf or tore at hollies on Honey Lane.

The ford across Forest Road flowed faster than we have seen it before.

This mossy bank beside it looked decidedly damp.

Just outside Burley a bay pony also dined alfresco on the contents of a garden refuse sack.

For this evening’s meal Jackie produced roast lamb; sage and onion stuffing; Jersey Royal boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm Brussels sprouts; tender runner beans, and meaty gravy, with which she, Becky and Ian drank Portuguese Rosé, Flo drank Apple and Mango juice, and I drank more of the Monastrell.