Best restaurants in Lancashire
Published 30 November 2023

A few blocks from the South Promenade and the thrills and spills of Blackpool's Pleasure Beach, this neighbourhood Indian restaurant is everybody's idea of an invaluable local resource and ‘brings something a bit different to the local area’. The name means something like 'At the sign of the pomegranate', and behind a leafy-green frontage, the place exudes a family feeling, with cooking that is steeped in the Subcontinent's ancestral traditions and executed with impressive flair.

Sharing platters encourage a sense of togetherness (try the yakni Kashmiri pulao served straight from the stove), although most of the menu works in the expected way, with extras of naan breads and parathas alongside main dishes such as Irache dry-roast beef curry with mustard seeds, punchy sarson prawns in coconut milk and poppy seeds or a special family-style lamb curry that takes influences from Rajasthan and Kolkata. You might preface these treats with Darjeeling chicken momo (dumplings), tandoori wings or the unmissable lehsuni houmous – textured with garlic oil and the pop of pomegranate seeds, served with tandoori roti. Desserts herald some of India's aromatic classics including mango and cashew kulfi, ‘tres leches’ kheer (rice pudding) and pistachio crème brûlée. 

Other attractions include a highly popular supper club and a proper Indian breakfast/brunch offer, complete with naan rolls, chilli cheese toast, pav bhaji and Indo-Chinese noodle-based ‘masala Maggie’, all washed down with chai and lassi. Varietal wines do their job, while fruity cocktails offer a true taste of Blackpool. 

While Lancashire has long since ensconced itself on the northern culinary map, its administrative centre (a full-fledged city for over 20 years, after all) has awaited its moment in the spotlight. Step forward Aven, which opened in an odd backstreet site in the vicinity of its near-namesake Avenham Park in October 2023.

Under the eagle executive eye of Lancashire-born chef-director Oli Martin (ex-Northcote et al), this city-centre venue is a tiny room (seven tables) done out in impeccable decorative style, with dark olive panelling offsetting brilliant white door frames, glass panels partitioning the space, and menus presented in little envelopes bearing the name of the booking.

Set four-course menus are the mainstay, with an evening taster adding another two courses, as well as a vegetarian alternative. An opening soup of fermented mushrooms is piled with diced Jersey Royals, maitake, peas, braised radishes and bites of smoked eel, under ruffles of tasty chicken skin. To follow, a commendably imaginative fish course offers a sliver of opalescent monkfish in brown butter, topped with soft baby leek and pickled magnolia petal.

The star dish at our meal was a piece of splendid chicken breast with braised and puréed turnips, wild garlic pesto and a strong chicken jus – an object-lesson in the savoury arts. The bemusing presentation of dessert saw its elements marooned in a little cluster at one edge of a huge platter, as though awaiting rescue: fine honeycomb, apple-peel tuile, cultured cream, surprisingly delicate pine parfait. That said, there is enough creative energy here to make Aven one to watch. Slick professional service adds to the gloss, while a modestly proportioned wine list is big on pairings, opening with recommendations by the small glass from £8.

Chef-proprietor Mark Birchall came up through the ranks at L’Enclume and over the past decade has created his own forcefield here in Lancashire, cultivating a new generation of talent from across the UK and Europe. So, if you’re going to go all in on a gastronomic experience, Moor Hall is the place: one of Britain’s all-time greats where no stone is left unturned in the quest for perfection. Of course, fine dining restaurants should nail hospitality, ambience, service and wine, but the thrill here is the level of precision and attention to detail delivered by the sizable brigade over 18 or so courses. Every fuss and flourish of napkin folding, table sweeping, butter scooping and sauce spooning is pure theatre.

In winter, proceedings begin in the wainscoted lounge, but the best time to go is in the summer where you’ll be seated in one of England’s most beautiful kitchen gardens in view of the green beans and perfectly symmetrical mulberry tree. Snacks arrive at pace and culminate at the kitchen pass, where you’re invited to marvel at the cornucopia of ingredients – Louët-Feisser oysters, Isle of Mull scallop, Sika deer, kuri squash, Black Hamburg grapes – that will be heading to your table over the next couple of hours.

Work has been done to improve what once felt like a cool, echoey dining room. Better acoustics, candlelight, a good playlist and the happy hum of a full room bring warmth and a sense of personality. Service is more easy going, truly world class when it comes to the drinks program masterminded by Bence Karpatfalvi, a Hungarian winemaker tuned sommelier. Particularly notable is the non-alcoholic flight of single-estate teas and infusions which prove almost as diverting as an adventure into the depths of a fine and rare cellar.

If you’re staying the night, the secluded cabin rooms among the grounds – some of which boast hot tubs – provide a considered and contemporary place to rest and digest, while the rooms in the house are as-yet unrenovated and still a little blingy. A newly refurbished private dining room for up to 12 offers a uniquely personal way to soak up the dazzling show.

Like a stately galleon, Northcote serenely rides the choppy, changing waters of food fashion. This elegant restaurant with luxurious rooms was one of the first to stamp the hallmarks of 'modern British' cooking onto the Lancashire fine-dining foodscape. And after a change of ownership, those principles remain – overseen by the benevolent figure of Craig Bancroft (aka Mr B), the consummate host, who remains as MD. 

Confident in its ability to chart its own course, the Northcote kitchen is neither stuck in the past nor unduly influenced by metropolitan fads. Still under the personable executive command of Lisa Goodwin-Allen, the cooking is sophisticated but intelligently restrained. It pushes boundaries but with discretion. There remains a sense of ‘special occasion’, enhanced by a little tableside theatre, but the air of friendly Northern hospitality eschews pomposity and pretension; as ever, service is polished and properly paced. Smartly decorated in muted tones, the refined L-shaped dining room is designed for ease and comfort, while a fire still blazes in the entrance hall – as it has since the restaurant opened 40 years ago. 

Memorable tastes on our visit included dinky cheese and onion pies, a sparkling starter of spiced monkfish carpaccio, as finely textured as a silk stocking, dotted with pickled chilli, ‘hung’ yoghurt and fresh coriander, and rich, slow-cooked ox cheek bourguignon with smoked bacon and parsley that was treacly and tender enough to cut with a spoon. To finish, a feather-light blackcurrant soufflé with blackcurrant ice cream fulfilled Mr B’s promise that the choice would be well-advised. Wines from the top-class cellar are suggested to match each dish. Also note the roster of regional gins, whisky flights and cocktails made with homemade cordials and tinctures. 

Equally popular with locals and urban day trippers out for a ‘run in the country’, this substantial red-brick pub is a model of comfortable low-key sophistication, decorated in warm colours with contemporary ceramic plates, leather seating and sepia pictures of old Croston. With the term ‘Social’ in the name, socialising has to be the order of the day, so expect anything from pizza-van parties to weekend breakfasts and alfresco lunches; the place is also home to the Croston jazz club. ‘A real local gem that we’re so lucky to have in our village,’ declared one fan.

Grass-fed British beef and other meats come from Farrell’s, an artisan local butcher, while fish is sustainably sourced from Cornwall thanks to the owners' West Country connections: our grilled megrim sole was a sparklingly fresh treat, served on the bone just 12 hours after being landed in Newlyn. It arrived on the plate in company with some buttered sea greens and herbs, tartare sauce and hefty triple-cooked chips.

To start, pressed ham hock was richly savoury and carefully crafted, although the extra ‘bits’ such as burnt apple pickles, puffed potatoes, Burford cheese and pickled walnut ketchup were largely unnecessary (there's a tendency to gild the lily in the kitchen). For dessert, the house favourite is ‘Nana’s trifle’ with raspberries, strawberry jelly, crème Chantilly, charcoal and pink-peppercorn meringue.

Alongside the carte, there are small plates and ‘grazing’ options including Cornish oysters, ham-hock croquettes and deli boards. Cooked breakfasts deliver the full works, while Sunday roasts are consistently praised. Beer drinkers have a rotating choice of ales, the wine list offers plenty of choice, and there's even a gin club for aficionados.

Famed locally for its food and drink, the Parkers Arms sits on a stretch of the B6478 as it unwinds across the Trough of Bowland, not far from the river Hodder. Locations don't get much more rural than this, and it's all the more gladdening to find the interior hasn't been suffocatingly boutiqued. 

In 2021, The Hairy Bikers stopped in here, and helped turn the curried mutton pie into a viral sensation, and it remains true that the pies are a powerful part of the draw – majestic constructions of exemplary pastry, crusts crimped, the glaze shining them up like burnished armour, the insides generously filled with good things.  Otherwise, fish from Morecambe Bay is worth considering, perhaps roasted sea bass with foraged samphire and Ormskirk potatoes. Start with a single whopping hand-dived Hebridean scallop in a butter of its own roe and garlic, or salt cod fritters in lemon mayo, and close the deal with cherry frangipane tart and matching ice cream.

Simple lunches for intrepid walkers offer sanctuary from the Lancashire rain-pelt. The Bowland brewery's ales are a mainstay of the drink offer,  while wines are an accessibly priced classic selection.

*Solo will close its doors for a complete refurb after lunch service on 27 July 2025. Re-opening at the beginning of November 2025.*

Tim Allen moved some 250 miles from his former post at the Flitch of Bacon in Essex to set up Solo, his first independent venture. The erstwhile roadside pub is warmly welcoming and comfortable, tables are well spaced, chairs padded and two blazing fires were 'much appreciated' on a wet autumn evening when we visited. Service is relaxed (as is the atmosphere), but it's clear that this is a serious operation. It's a brilliant local asset, too – the no-choice set lunch is excellent value for the quality on offer.

The chef's cooking has confidence, his ideas speak of maturity, and you get the impression that he spends every spare moment trying out new ideas – his six-course evening taster (including vegetarian and pescatarian versions) changes regularly with the emphasis firmly on local and regional ingredients. You might begin with perfectly al dente agnolotti filled with spinach and dressed with a Parmesan foam, sweetcorn, a lightly poached quail’s egg and a rich brown chicken jus, then proceed to Cornish brill with diced salt-baked celeriac, ceps and smoked eel in a lovage-infused sauce.

Cauliflower, heady with Madras spices and the sweet-sour flavours of lentil dhal with lime buttermilk, has the making of a signature dish, while tender Aynhoe Park venison loin, paired with beetroot and red verjus, was evidence of the use of top-quality produce. A riff on raspberries teamed with caramelised white chocolate and verbena could be one of a pair of desserts.

On Sundays, Allen cleverly weaves a traditional roast in a mini four-course taster that is refined enough to wow but served with 'zero pretentiousness'. There is plenty of decent drinking by the glass on a short, global wine list that includes some skin-contact, organic and biodynamic bottles.

From the lowlands of west Lancashire, it’s a pleasure to drive into the immaculate grounds of Mark Birchall's Moor Hall. The Barn itself is a first-floor restaurant that runs the length of a beautifully restored outbuilding, with an open kitchen occupying the far end. Wooden beams criss-cross the airy pointed roof and the red-brick walls exude a warmth enhanced by the friendly but properly courteous welcome.The short seasonal menu is (thankfully) constructed in traditional three-course fashion; prime ingredients are supplemented by Moor Hall’s own produce – including their excellent in-house charcuterie (perfect with a delightful non-alcoholic libation). There are intriguing elements such as smoked marrow and sea buckthorn sauces, but dishes sound comfortably contemporary rather than riskily experimental, and they are well-served by a suitably sophisticated wine list with a broad global spread. Even on a mid-winter visit, the cooking felt fresh and light. A fragile Pablo beetroot tartlet presented like a bishop’s mitre held spiced pieces of the vegetable, a luscious slice of smoked duck ham, blackberries and red radicchio leaves. Equally elegant and restrained in appearance was lightly seared, cured Cornish mackerel draped with translucent ribbons of earthy-sweet salt-baked white beetroot, buttermilk and dill. An impeccable dish of Saint-Sever guinea hen yielded tender white breast moistened with jus alongside a nugget of stronger-tasting leg meat encased in crispy skin as well as a piece of rolled leek stuffed with offal forcemeat – the whole thing pulled together with a bowl of super-creamy, fluffy potato purée. However, Belted Galloway short rib glazed with black garlic, shallot, charred baby gem and smoked marrow sauce was less successful and lacked the coherence notable in other dishes.The kitchen’s patisserie skills are showcased in desserts such as apple millefeuille with buttermilk custard and cider caramel served with vivid apple and vanilla sorbets – although the unexpected star turn was a squash custard tart with clementine and crème fraîche sorbets. The perfect custard, with deep, intense toffee notes, was finished off with the smoky, mineral notes of drizzled birch sap. Petits fours included gorgeous fudge coated in fiery Ormskirk gingerbread crumbs (they should sell this delicacy in boxes to take home).

It may only be a few miles from the brash lights of Blackpool but this remodelled 17th-century coaching inn beside the tidal river Wyre is light years away in style and atmosphere. There are tranquil views of the Fylde plain across to the Bowland Fells, and restaurant tables overlooking the river are always at a premium – although there is much more to engage both eye and palate here.

To the rear, a small garden-courtyard, edged by a deli, gallery and jewellery shop, is festooned with painted bird houses, trees strung with coloured streamers and sequinned bunting. Inside, the decor is not so much quirky as idiosyncratic, with an eclectic collection of art and craftwork brightening up the bar and dining areas. It might not be to everyone’s taste but it’s fun and engaging.

On the whole, the food matches the setting, with a good selection of seasonal dishes served at wooden tables decorated with whimsical hand-blown glass mushrooms. The menu has serious French aspirations, and there's an emphasis on big, bold meat and game specialities such as local wood pigeon saltimbocca, braised pig's cheek tacos and grilled, stuffed lamb’s heart. Prissy it ain’t. The Gallic blow-out entitled 'premeditated gluttony’ needs to be ordered 48 hours in advance and features a ‘grands fruits de mer’ platter that has been described as ‘the best we have had anywhere in Britain or France.’

Concepts are contemporary but avoid falling down too many ‘creative’ rabbit holes – although on our latest visit it was the small things that let the side down (salty and oily potted hot-smoked trout, for example). Our daily fish special, however, was memorable: line-caught wild sea bass from Morecambe Bay, served with vegetables from the garden and a delicate lemony sauce. For afters, the choice might include banana parfait choc ice with hazelnut praline and goat's milk caramel or a ‘croissant’ bread and butter pudding embellished with roasted peach, while the enterprising wine list is noted for its global spread, fair mark-ups and by-the-glass selection.  

As befits a constituent part of the Duchy of Lancaster Estate, this grand old inn is a suitably substantial prospect. It has also been refreshing weary travellers since the 18th century, so you are in experienced hands. These days, a sensitive touch with modernisation has produced a dining room that looks over the kitchen garden and the meandering river Hodder. Jamie Cadman is comfortably into his third decade at the stoves, overseeing menus of modern pub food that deliver plenty of flavour, with generous helpings of Lancastrian ingredients underpinning the repertoire – from moorland game and beef reared on nearby Burholme Farm to smoked salmon cured over oak and alder chippings by Giles, the local fishmonger. To start, black pudding is a regular contender, perhaps added to a ham hock terrine or served as a warm salad with smoked bacon, chorizo and salsa verde. As a main course, the Whitewell fish pie is a majestic assemblage of poached haddock and prawns, flashed under the grill to bubble up its Cheddar topping, while slow-roast local lamb might turn up in Gallic garb alongside roast garlic mash, braised lentils, fine beans and pancetta. The day's desserts tend to be old dependables along the lines of treacle tart, sticky toffee pudding and millonaire's shortbread. Imbibers will be pleased to learn that the inn is also renowned for its ambitious wine list, which is arranged by style and accompanied by genuinely helpful tasting notes; the by-the-glass selection is rounded out with a small spread of French poshos from the Coravin.

In the relatively short time since the Rum Fox opened, its owners have 'immersed themselves in village life' and the place has become a much-appreciated local asset. Nestled in the lovely village of Grindleton in the Ribble Valley, against a backdrop of rolling Lancashire hills, this splendid double-fronted pub has been stylishly renovated and is now in fine fettle. You can eat in the traditional beamed bar area (presided over by the antique, red-coated M Reynard himself) or in a spacious, light-filled open-plan contemporary room with its flagged floors, solid ceramic tables, contemporary stoneware and open kitchen. Service from a band of genuinely lovely staff is confident and enthusiastic.

A good-value set menu culls dishes from the carte, perhaps taking them down a notch or so in terms of refinement – although you never feel short-changed. Our summer menu included a glossy pea, lettuce and mint soup served with one of the kitchen's now-legendary stuffed potato skins, followed by cod loin with salt-and-pepper Jersey Royals and chilli crab sauce (quality fish but over-spiced for our taste). For afters, never mind the weather, it has to be exemplary sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream.

The kitchen's seasonal endeavours have a kind of muscular style and ambition, although it's all very controlled and the chef knows his market – hence popular pies and suet puddings such as chicken and chorizo or ox cheek, onion and mushroom, not forgetting apple and rhubarb crumble to finish. There might also be a riff on venison – perhaps haunch, shoulder and cottage pie with artichoke, wild garlic and rowanberry sauce. Wines and beers do their job admirably.

About three miles outside Clitheroe, Mitton is hewn in two by the river Ribble, with the Three Fishes on the side to the north, properly glorified as Great Mitton. The pub itself can hardly be missed, sitting as it does on a junction in its coat of brilliant white. Nigel Haworth, king of Lancastrian cuisine, has taken the place a little further upmarket from its initial incarnation, but the vibe is ‘neither stuffy nor formal’, according to one local, with helpful and knowledgeable staff ensuring that everything runs without a hitch.

Local suppliers are front and centre on the menu, hardly more so than the pub's own kitchen garden, which you are welcome to explore. Readers' feedback emphasises the attention to detail that lifts a dish such as teriyaki scallops with sublime jalapeño-spiked tartare sauce out of the ordinary; likewise, popping-fresh broad beans add the final flourish to a summer risotto topped with samphire, pea purée and parsley pesto. Loin of venison benefits from slow cooking and a deeply flavoured ragoût, with a wedge of hispi cabbage and mushroom ketchup to carry it, while sea bass is crisp-skinned and delectable, perfectly served by tempura spring onion and dill butter.

To finish, a whimberry pie seemed 'a little cheffy' to one recipient (all feathery delicacy) but damson soufflé was ‘simply outstanding’, packed with deep, ripe flavour and beautifully risen. There's a traditional ‘chippy tea’ on Fridays (6-7pm), and Lancashire-style Sunday roasts are abidingly popular. Drinkers sup real ales in the flagstoned bar, while the wine list offers a decent spread tilted towards the Old World.

There isn't a great deal to Fence, which once lay within Pendle Forest and was surrendered to its tenants by Henry VII. Some of the alleged Pendle witches were tried here in the 17th century, before wiser counsels prevailed. These days, all the running is made by the transformation of a village pub, the White Swan, into one of Lancashire's destination dining venues.

The interior with its burnished wood bar counter still looks the part, but nobody pops in for an evening pint and a game of darts. Instead, the cooking of the prodigiously talented Tom Parker is front and centre, now offered in the format of a multi-course ‘menu surprise’, moving through a parade of dishes that look disarmingly simple, but demonstrate the gastronomic equivalent of perfect pitch. Expect challenges and surprises all the way, from organic salmon with wasabi buttermilk, yuzu and dill to Périgord truffle ice cream. 

An autumnal dinner opened with a small croustade of rich chicken liver mousse, before bread arrived – a mini-loaf for sharing, served with goat's curd and basil oil, as well as butter. To follow, a ‘study in tomato’ produced a trio of sweet-sour cherry tomatoes in intense tomato consommé, prior to a version of beef tartare made with pedigree Dexter, lit up with a great slug of horseradish. For main course, there was fillet of fallow deer, cooked pinkish, with a bonbon of stickily braised meat, a bouquet of mushrooms and Jerusalem artichoke purée, the whole supported by a damson-based game sauce of miraculous potency.

A pre-dessert of pear in honey and verjus heralded the finishing flourish, a kind of savarin liberally soaked in Pedro Ximénez sherry, topped with orange miso cream. You can also add on a plate of cheeses from the Courtyard Dairy in Austwick, served with truffle honey. The White Swan is justly proud to be ‘the only pub in Lancashire’ serving Timothy Taylor's Yorkshire-brewed ales, and it also boasts a smart list of well-chosen wines.