THERE'S a sign for Barrow, one to Kendal and one to Lancaster, which one do I want?" I know that using a mobile phone while driving is illegal but this was an emergency, and technically at this point, I was stationary, paralysed by indecision and a
growing fear that lunch at the award-winning Punch Bowl Inn might not happen before we undertook the drive north.
The friendly voice explained that Lancaster was the direction we wanted and that we were only about five minutes away, so not to worry. Plainly the panic in my voice was more obvious than I'd hoped. (The recommendation from a friend to visit this pub/restaurant tucked near the village of Crosthwaite was: "You'll never eat in a better gastropub"?)
In all honesty, being a bit lost in countryside as beautiful as the Lyth Valley is hardly a chore. Lush green fields crisscrossed by undulating drystane dykes, whitewashed cottages with tiny leaded windows and postage-stamp gardens oozing lobelias, it is picture-perfect. And even more than that, it feels a million miles away from the touristy throngs of Windermere and Bowness, although it's just a few miles (I later discover) down the road.
But still, there's no view good enough to fill an empty stomach.
As promised, after five minutes or so of winding country roads watched over by skipping lambs almost cute enough to put you off certain menu options, there sits the 300-year-old Punch Bowl Inn. It is as close to perfection as you'll find in this kind of country pub. Comforting and comfortable, impressive yet intimate, relaxed yet reliably excellent.
In a lunch that offered a selection of high points there was one that for me captured why The Punch Bowl nabbed Michelin's Best Pub 2009 gong. Carrots. Or more precisely a side order of utterly delicious and moreish carrots served in a lovely herb butter. You might think I'd lost my marbles if I was to say that, having tasted them, I'd happily drive more than three hours to eat them again, but I would. And if you'd tried them you might too.
What's special about the carrots can be applied more generally to the food that emerges from the kitchen of head chef, John Watson. There is a care and attention lavished on the food here that lifts The Punch Bowl above even a very good gastropub. Each carrot is lovingly peeled and trimmed to an even size which means that they are cooked – every single one of them – to perfection. They don't look absurdly uniform, they still have a kind of rustic charm. Soft on the outside as my teeth squeeze into their smooth, sweet flesh, there's a gentle but pleasing crunch. Wonderful.
And it's not only the side dishes that are excellent. The pub's menu is the kind that has you wishing that you could happily eat without limit, but alas for me during the day, at least, a choice must be made. Will it be starter and main? Or main and pudding? Usually there'd be no contest – in my world, sweet trumps savoury every time – but the lure of twice-baked cheese soufflé or crunchy whitebait with homemade mayonnaise at least had me swithering.
As it was, P – another sweet tooth – and I decide that main and pud is the way to go. For me it's fish pie with seasonal greens (£10.95), and for P it's macaroni with homemade pesto, pine nuts and Parmesan (£9.95) with that side order of carrots (£3.95).
Served on a rustic, wooden board, the fish pie is mouth-wateringly good. Steaming hot, the creamy juices have escaped down the side of the oven dish and the light cheese topping smells rich and delicious. Beneath the light crust, satisfyingly large chunks of white fish and meaty prawns swim in a sauce that's rich and flavoursome but runny enough to allow a bit of dunking with the greens served alongside. It's a homemade delight.
P's pasta is a generous bowl of steaming hot macaroni coated in vibrant green pesto and topped with shavings of nutty Parmesan. The pine nuts give it crunch and it's fresh and full of flavour.
Neither of us finished every morsel of our main courses but this had nothing to do with the food, or portion size, and everything to do with the dessert menu. I love Eton mess (£4.95) so never miss an opportunity to eat it and P is a sucker for a knickerbocker glory (£5.95). We waited with bated breath and we weren't disappointed. My dessert was pretty as a picture. The sticky sweet meringue, cream and strawberries was served in a little Kilner jar decorated with a sprig of mint, a juicy strawberry and a dusting of icing sugar. P's sundae was a towering vision of gooey charm. Homemade chocolate and berry ice-cream and raspberry sorbet set on top of two layers of delicious red berries, cream and the masterstroke, crumbled pieces of what they call cinder toffee in Cumbria but what I'd call puff candy.
We cleared our plates, given an extra bit of energy from the sugar rush no doubt. With room for only a double espresso (£2.25) to make sure there was no dosing at the wheel, the M6 was calling and the multitude of lefts, rights and the odd U-turn seemed utterly worth it. The Punch Bowl is a treat not to be missed.
The full article contains 935 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
