I’ll get the criticism out of the way first. I had to get my own vinegar for my chips. Well, I didn’t have to. I could have waited, but I did get it myself in the end, ducking under the stairs by the bar to retrieve a bottle of Sarson’s.
I think it was because I wanted to help out. Because the cooking at the Parkers Arms, named last week as the best gastropub in the whole of the UK, makes you feel that way. It’s food to feel thankful for, not entitled to. I wanted to give something back, in this case, saving them a job. A very, very small job, but a job nonetheless.
Other than the vinegar incident - glad to get that off my chest - the rest of lunch last week was as close to country pub perfection as you could hope for. Set on the edge of the Trough of Bowland, outside Clitheroe, chef Stosie Madi, her business partner Kathy Smith, and Kathy’s brother, ebullient front of house maestro AJ, run things at this handsome Georgian inn on the green, where they set up shop 15 years ago.
Indulge in more of Ben Arnold's food writing covering Greater Manchester...
They’ve been slowly building up its reputation ever since. It’s the kind of pub those living abroad for too long might get all misty eyed about. A fire roaring in the hearth, stone flags on the floor and rolling countryside through the window. That the food is faultless completes the picture.
Arriving first, a bowl of homemade salted potato skin crisps, and then a plate of little croquettes (on the house, to celebrate their birthday). They’re like miniature fried blobs of gnocchi, and quite seriously what’s not to like about that?
The menu is set (£45 for three courses), and changes constantly, often twice a day depending on what’s available from suppliers and what’s in season. It might also depend on what’s happening around and about.
The marrow pickle on the day’s terrine, for example - Bowland pork and game, and really excellent - is from a neighbour up the road who often gets a glut of marrows. So as a result you won’t find the menu posted on their website. I put this element of surprise firmly - very firmly - in the plus column.
More starters arrive, a plate of plumped and pickled anchovies, with bright green olive oil and slices of scorched blood orange. It’s so pretty it seems a shame to break the spell. The citrus cured Chalk Stream trout, sitting in a pool of warm buttermilk and parsley sauce, is very handsome too.
But with a thick chunk of the pub’s homemade bread, and some Lancashire butter, none of it lasts much more than five minutes, almost disrespectful considering how long it must have taken to put together - to cure the trout, marinate the anchovies, not to mention the years, perhaps decades cultivating the bacteria for the sourdough, which is as good an example of the craft of breadmaking as there is. These dishes are regrettably victims of their own success.
You can dance around the fact, but the Parkers Arms has become known for its pies. The pie, humble as it is, comes in many forms, from the pale and pasty thing sitting in a chip shop warming box all the way up to what this pub turns out - the Rolls-Royce of pies. This is pie as close to artform as it’s possible to get using the medium of pastry.
Today’s curried mutton pie, using sheep from Burholme Farm on the other side of the Lakes, is encased in pastry made with mutton fat and is stuffed generously with slowly-cooked pieces of mutton shoulder and offal. It is so golden it almost glows, and when you nudge the top with a knife, gravy comes out of the little hole at the top.
If it wasn’t already perfect, the little jug of curried gravy to pour on every mouthful sealed it. It’s close to a religious experience. The pheasant pie is made with pork fat, and is just as good, with another little jug of a sauce so creamy and so perfect for dipping chips in, it could spell the beginning of the end for chip condiments the world over.
Oh, and the chips. Fries, really. As good as they could possibly be, and the mash. Who can say for sure how much butter and cream goes in, but it’s best not to ask. AJ will lie to you anyway. “There are no calories in any of this food,” he says, deadpan. Just accept that as the truth and move on quickly.
Puddings were difficult to justify, but they’re included with the set menu, so in for a penny. A browned puff pastry galette with almond custard, bitter marmalade ice cream and preserved pieces of Seville orange from co-owner Kathy’s garden in Andalucia was spectacular. As was a dark slab of Valrhona chocolate, shot through with peanut butter, accompanied by a salty milk ice cream. Might have been a bit delirious by this stage.
This neck of the woods is home to both the Parkers, and the number three pub in this year’s list, The Freemasons at Wiswell, a 20 minute drive away. Not to mention the Inn at Whitewell, just 10 minutes away. Then there’s the Three Fishes in Whalley, another 20 minute dash. Should the Parkers be unable to accommodate - quite possible given recent events - then you’re spoiled for choice nearby.
And while it’s a solid hour’s drive from Manchester, it’s worth it, not least for the dramatic drive, littered with stray sheep on the roads and juddering cattle grids. It’s worth every single centimetre.
It is a place generous in every sense, from the welcome to what arrives on the plate. But most of all, it is generous in spirit. And that’s a rare thing indeed.
The Parkers Arms, Hall Gate Hill, Newton-In-Bowland, Nr Clitheroe BB7 3DY
Read next
