27 perfect pies for British Pie Week
Published 04 March 2025

Describing their venue as a neighbourhood restaurant inside a 19th-century pub, the good folk at The Camberwell Arms have an appealing proposition on a busy road that slices through SE5. 'Compelling, simple, seasonal' food is the real deal, served up in relaxed, pared-back spaces where the bones of the old pub remain in its stripped floors, fireplaces and high Victorian ceilings. There's a hatch window out front so drinks can pass to thirsty locals on the pavement, and a private dining room with its own bar at the other end of the spectrum. The gauntlet is thrown down with 'Scotch bonnet pork fat on toast' – a dish of fire and fat, and not for the faint-hearted. Share a few small plates such as semolina gnocchi in a 'bright, fresh' San Marzano tomato sauce or charred onions with artichoke pesto and pistachios; otherwise, stick to the trad two- or three-course format. A bigger helping of grilled fish (wild bream or plaice, maybe) arrives with chips and aïoli, while thinly sliced porchetta is dressed with white peaches and rosemary. Two like-minded people can go for sharers such as half a spit-roast chicken (with blistered hispi cabbage and crème fraîche enriched with chicken fat) or aged Hereford rump steak with anchovy dripping. To finish, a 'beautiful' apricot and chocolate galette with crème fraîche and sour-cherry molasses sent one reader away very happy. Sunday lunches catch the eye with more of those sharers as well as roast potatoes cooked with sage and lemon. The drinking options include cocktails and well-chosen wines (from £26.50).

*Bangkok Diners Club will open in Edinburgh Castle's restaurant space from Wednesday 2nd April. Watch out for a new review coming soon.*

Not that Castle. This one is a reconditioned late-Georgian pub in the Ancoats district of Manchester, now part of a regeneration zone that has conjured a modern neighbourhood where once there was industrial wasteland. Generously upholstered banquettes, mirrors and plenty of daylight from big windows are spirit-lifting in themselves, but the cooking lifts the place into another dimension. There is a traditional Sunday lunch offering, but the more speculative contemporary food makes weekdays equally popular with readers. Locally grown purple artichokes are served alla giudia, a Roman Jewish deep-fried treatment that produces a crisply seared surface on a creamy, bittersweet inner texture – not to be missed in their season. When did you last eat a fantail squid? Here they are, hauled in from Brixham and served with new season's peas for textural contrast. For main course, there might be a satisfying fish dish such as hake with pepper dulse and Jersey Royals, while meats offer locally farmed Tamworth pork belly with hispi cabbage or lamb shoulder with broad beans and – of all the things to come upon in Ancoats – nasturtiums. A whopping great pie of Ryeland lamb shank should provide plenty of sustenance for a hungry pair of diners. Seasonal fruits make the dessert list a welcome recourse, whether it be strawberry fool and elderflower cream or Yorkshire rhubarb sorbet with a brandy-snap.

A gem of a village pub, owned and run by Will Orrock and his wife Cassidy Hughes, where there’s more than a passing nod to the Fergus Henderson (St John) school of cookery. Chef Adam Spicer's menu is brisk – beautiful ingredients are left relatively unadorned, and flavours are full. What a vol-au-vent lacks in flighty height it makes up for in crispness and the springtime deliciousness of foraged morels and wild garlic, and how good to see tenderly seared cuttlefish among the starters, alongside a silken ink-black mayonnaise studded with cod's roe – don't forget to save some of the excellent house bread for mayo-scooping purposes.

A terrine of brawn and ‘blood cake’ is as muscular as its name suggests, but alongside the heft is deft culinary balance from the crunchy bite of radishes and some zippy piccalilli. As for seafood, expect a few luxuries. The delicate flavour of lobster is somewhat swamped by its coronation sauce, although a turbot main course is memorably good. Served with fat mussels, the saline pep of monk’s beard and a gently spiced mouclade sauce, it’s a dish to hurry back for. Local produce stars throughout – from vegetables and leaves courtesy of nearby organic Maple Farm to chocolate from Pump Street or the St Jude cow’s curd served alongside a caramel tart. This is ‘proper cooking,’ notes one reporter.

The Greyhound is also a proper boozer, welcoming drinkers for honest sustenance. Do check out the great-value bar snacks – say Welsh rarebit or a ploughman’s including homemade pork pie and house pickles. Perfect with a pint, or a glass from a wine list which is fit for every occasion – be it a classy Burgundy (a 2021 Saint-Aubin 1er cru ‘Clos du Meix’ from family-owned Domaine Hubert Lamy, perhaps), a steely Austrian Riesling from the Arndorfer winery or a simple lunchtime sip from the Languedoc.

Down at the quieter end of Fowey, the Friskney-Bryer's converted boatshed restaurant not only enjoys oblique views of the comings and goings of small craft out on the creek, it has also ‘brought great energy’ to the town. The main room features a long, communal table down the middle, with a kitchen that is not entirely open to view, but rather half-protruding into the dining space. Festoon lighting makes the place look bonny as the Cornish dusk descends, and the blackboard menus are cause for unmuted celebration (note that lunches are for walk-ins only, so arrive early).

Ethan Friskney-Bryer was head chef here before acquiring the place in February 2024, and remains as committed as ever to seasonality and sustainability, helped by chefs who go out to catch fish and also grow vegetables for the kitchen. Porthilly rock oysters au naturel are a reliably popular draw; otherwise, kick off with brown crab rarebit or fried whiting with curried mayo. Main dishes might take in Cornish sole with tomatoes and garlic butter, gurnard with runner beans or mackerel with green sauce. There are usually a few veggie plates, too – perhaps braised courgettes with goat’s curd.

After that, it’s hard to resist the dessert of the day, perhaps baked cheesecake with strawberries or the ever-popular chocolate mousse with caramel and salt. The vibe is infectiously informal, while Ethan’s partner runs front of house with ‘efficiency and friendly charm’. To drink, a handful of natural wines by the glass just about do the trick – or you might fancy some grape juice from the Tamar Valley.

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.

The Latin moniker harks back to a time when this veteran Dean Street site was home to a grandiose, old-school Italian restaurant of the same name. A great deal has changed since the old days, although some original features such as the dining room’s distinctive stained glass front windows remain intact. With the Hart brothers and long-serving chef Jeremy Lee running the show, the food is a sprightly mix of reworked British classics, leavened with French bistro standbys and the occasional Mediterranean riff, while ‘the attention to quality and seasonality is second to none.’  

The menu is a joy to behold – a mock-up broadsheet replete with jokey line drawings and special boxes advertising everything from the much-lauded smoked eel sandwich with pickled red cabbage to the mighty ‘pie of the day’ and specials such as spiced beef with artichokes and Parmesan. Opening salvos given an idea of the kitchen’s repertoire, which spans everything from artichoke vinaigrette to crumbed lamb’s sweetbreads with peas, almonds and mint. Mains of skate with black butter and capers or marinated lamb rump accompanied by sweet cabbage hash and green sauce uphold the British tradition or you could speed off to Italy for a serving of cannelloni, fennel, winter greens and three cheeses. For dessert, sticky toffee pudding has its moment (served with custard and cream); otherwise, consider gooseberry sorbet, lemon posset or ‘les QV profiteroles au chocolat’. 

The wine list takes diners on a whistlestop world tour, although its heart is in the classic French regions, with plentiful by-the-glass options for those on a strict budget. Overall, regulars confirm that the place is still a Soho diamond: ‘No matter when you visit, you can always be assured of an extremely warm welcome and superb service.’

Three decades on, St John appears to have changed not one jot. Still the same whitewashed walls, the same squat wine glasses, the same commitment to ‘nose-to-tail’ cookery. When we visited, there was a dish on the daily menu from the restaurant's second cookbook (published 2007): called simply ‘kohlrabi’, it is simply kohlrabi – albeit mandolined and lavished with olive oil, lemon, capers and chervil. An excellent use of a maligned vegetable, but the £11 price tag speaks of 2025.

There's no doubt that eating at St John can sometimes test your faith. Our beef broth was straightforward enough, but the vegetables looked like they had been chopped by someone’s granny in a rush to get tea on the table (but, oh boy, can granny cook). Likewise, a serving of sea bass was no looker: battle-scarred from a hot pan, it came with slow-cooked fennel in a state of near-collapse and a Pernod-splashed liquor into which some anchovies had long since disappeared. A food stylist would shudder but, again, such flavour!

While some dishes such as the signature bone marrow and parsley salad still resemble exhibits in an edgy east London gallery, others look like they’ve emerged from the kitchen of an old Parisian bistro, where the chef no longer gives a fig about wooing Le Figaro. If they have a pair of tweezers in the cupboard, they’ll be for plucking bristles from pig's trotters, not garnishing quail's eggs with micro herbs. However, a serving of wild boar terrine (with cornichons and excellent sourdough) and a plate of mallard (with parsnips and pickled walnut) both successfully combine sharp looks and keen flavour.

‘Are paper tablecloths and one wine glass for all wines and water taking lack of pretension too far?’ asks one fan. We might say the same about a dessert plate that arrives with a chip in it the size of your thumbnail. That said, puddings are terrific and there are no fewer than 10 to choose from: our lemon pie had sticky, jammy citrus sandwiched between crisp, sugared pie crust, while chocolate mousse was made from first-rate confectionery. The wine list is the type you'd find in a Parisian bistro, with a tip-top house pour, St John Rouge, ushering in a glorious selection from the French regions.

With forested hills sloping onto fields of grazing sheep and the Gothic remains of Byland Abbey towering over the entrance, this pub with rooms is a dream ticket – no wonder it was snapped up by chef Tommy Banks (the Black Swan at Oldstead is nearby). Inside, there’s a little bar with a snug for those wanting a drink, but the main action takes place in the three dining rooms, one of which is the former piggery – an expansive room with beams, giant flagstones and a double-facing log-burning stove, all illuminated by a conservatory-style skylight. The mood is relaxed and staff stay on top of their tasks, while cute details in the handsome finishes speak of Tommy Banks’ pedigree.

The food also makes a connection to the Banks family farm (without labouring the point), and chef Charlie Smith serves up a procession of seriously appealing, modern pub-style dishes – an incredibly original Dexter steak tartare, perhaps, cut into uniform nuggets resembling translucent rubies decorated with grated wild horseradish, fermented peppers and smoked bone marrow. Elsewhere, there might be a light, elegant plate of smoked Pablo beetroot with ewe’s curd, preserved Yorkshire rhubarb and linseed crackers for texture. Some of the meaty main courses such as a pork rib chop with fermented mushroom béarnaise could do with a little finessing, although fish dishes hit the spot – judging by a pitch-perfect serving of cod with a splendid mussel cream sauce and purple-red potatoes on the side.

Everything is executed with flair, professionalism and a deep respect for local ingredients – and that extends to the dazzling roasts served for Sunday lunch (check out the rare-breed Berkshire pork and Herdwick lamb from the family farm, just two miles away). If you're looking for real value, however, order the mighty Dexter cheeseburger with fries, plus a pint of Yorkshire-brewed ale and a shared dessert – say a soft-serve sundae topped with Douglas fir, blackcurrant and white chocolate. Aside from real ale, drinks include seasonal cocktails, homemade libations and a short but decent selection of wines with plenty by the glass.

From the Cubitt House group, this transformed Mayfair pub comes across as a genuine local, refreshingly free of affectation and resolutely faithful to its pub roots. The impressive ground-floor bar has held on to its darkly varnished wood and etched glass, packing in drinkers for pints of proper beer and a bar menu offering the likes of hot meat buns or sausage rolls with homemade brown sauce. However, the real action takes place upstairs in an intimate, richly decorated dining room. Here chef director Ben Tish and head chef Chris Fordham-Smith's influences are to be seen, their talents and food-loving instincts delivering high-impact, no-nonsense British cooking. It’s a clear-sighted, thoughtful approach that pays dividends all round, from starters of steamed cockles (with parsley butter), a house terrine en croûte or brown crab rarebit to desserts such as baked Alaska (for two) and sticky toffee pudding with salted caramel sauce. In between, the kitchen applies a respectful approach to top-drawer ingredients: native-breed beef pie with mash and parsley sauce; an exemplary free-range roast chicken, served with sage and truffle butter; a daily roast of rare-breed meats (the real deal). There’s an inspired cheese selection too, and wine is taken seriously – expect a thoughtful selection that accommodates all depths of pocket.

Standing at a country crossroads on the edge of the Fonthill Estate, this handsome, ivy-clad 18th-century inn (part of the Beckford group, a collection of four independent pubs in the region), is surprisingly handy for the A303. It’s a hugely enjoyable place, very much an all-rounder, with a dog-friendly bar at its heart supported by various dining rooms, all suitably gentrified with cosy country-luxe decor, open fires, evening candles and auction room finds. When the sun shines, a covered terrace opens onto an acre of mature gardens.

The menu hits that ‘something for everyone’ note spot-on, with a line-up ranging from evergreens along the lines of fish and chips, sirloin steak (on the bone) with classic sauces, and an above-the-norm Sunday roast to seasonal ideas such as exemplary chalk stream trout tartare layered with yogurt and plum, or a combo of green and yellow courgettes, cut into ribbons and served in a pleasing jumble with goat's curd and pickled chilli dressing. To follow, our monkfish tail was perfectly cooked on the bone and teamed (deliciously) with leeks and curry butter, while a robust dish of flavourful pork chop with BBQ courgettes and preserved Isle of Wight tomatoes struck a more rustic note.

Desserts are mostly reworked classics – the star turn for us was a chocolate mousse with Wye Valley cherries and brandy. Fast, friendly service is delivered by a young team, while knowledgeable dabbling around the globe satisfies most palates and budgets on a wine list that offers good choice under £40.

It's always reassuring to come across a rural pub in an area barely big enough to count as a village – in this case, a seductive corner of Monmouthshire in the rough vicinity of Usk. The whitewashed former farm building is all old beams and open stonework inside, with a pleasant little terrace at the back. 

The weekly changing, all-day menu is built around three each of starters and mains, but opens with an extensive range of snacks, which are definitely worth investigating. Whipped cod's roe with fried potato skins is altogether delicious, as is broad-bean panisse with beetroot ketchup and pumpkin seeds – although our top pick was a smoked beef croquette with anchovy aïoli. A starter of octopus with heirloom tomatoes, garlic shoots and olive oil brought the sun-drenched Med to south Wales, while a main course whopper of a turbot, sauced with white wine and butter, and matched with mussels and kale, was easily enough for two. Meat could be Herefordshire kid goat with braised lettuce, exquisitely layered confit potato, and roasted garlic mayo. 

Desserts bring the house down with the likes of almond and brown-butter financier on stewed rhubarb, topped with heaven-scented saffron ice cream or oat and rye flummery with strawberries and fennel-seed shortbread. The largely European wine list is full of excitement, with interesting grape varieties all over the show, interspersed with some orange stuff and chilled reds. Check the blackboard for excellent by-the-glass selections.

‘Our local’ noted one reader proudly. For anyone with misgivings about pubs with restaurant inclinations, this urban hostelry should set you straight. As befits a sibling of Southwark’s Anchor & Hope, Stoke Newington’s Clarence Tavern, and the Magdalen Arms in Oxford, the Canton Arms is fully committed to its role as an old-fashioned city boozer. Low-lit and friendly, there’s pretty much a 50/50 split between drinkers knocking back pints of real ale in the front bar and diners in for some consistently delicious food in the dining area at the back.

Ingredients are seasonally spot-on, with the daily changing menu delivering anything from labneh with walnut and pomegranate dressing or crispy blood cake with homemade quince jam to roast hake with crab bisque, steamed potatoes and gremolata or duck confit with Puy lentils. After that, there might be bread-and-butter pudding with praline sauce, which was recently reported as ‘something I dream of weekly’.

It’s all considered good value, and that includes the line-up of drinks, which range from an ‘amazing’ selection of real ales on rotation and an impressive list of classic cocktails to a perfectly judged European wine list.

‘What a lovely little place,’ observes one visitor to Dominic Chapman’s classy village pub not far from Maidenhead. All-comers are welcome here, and accommodating staff are keen to keep everyone happy – whether you’re in for a pint after walking the dog in the nearby woods or have ‘turned up from London in a fancy car’. Inside, it looks and feels local but with a gentrified veneer; prices on the seasonal carte are at the higher end of the foodie pub scale, but there’s also a set deal (dubbed ‘the village menu’) which will provide three courses for under £30.

Chapman’s sure-footed cooking brings judiciously sourced ingredients (some of them local) and worldly-wise culinary technique to the table – from his renowned lasagne of wild rabbit, wood blewits and chervil to peppered fillet of wild venison with creamed spinach, celeriac purée and sauce poivrade. He also has a way with fish, be it roast Cornish cod (with gremolata and olive oil) or line-caught Cornish sea bass (with potato gnocchi, purple sprouting broccoli, girolles and a boozy red wine sauce). Alternatively, look to the specials if you fancy a plate of tagliolini with smoked salmon or a stomach-warming oxtail and kidney pie with mash.

Desserts are fashioned with immaculate skill, witness dark chocolate délice with cherries, salted-caramel ice cream and almond biscuit – although there’s also room for a generous helping of steamed treacle pud with custard. The wine list is noteworthy too, offering plentiful by-the-glass options covering most major grape varieties. In short, ‘an all-round perfect local’ and a ‘huge asset to the area’. 

Are Oisín Rogers, Charlie Carroll and Ashley Palmer-Watts champions of a new era in pubs? The Devonshire is certainly one of the most enjoyable places to eat in the capital – if you can get in (far too many people want to eat here). Yet it looks set to become an institution – and long may it continue, for this is no ordinary pub. Ingredients are impeccable and the strong meat-focused menu serves the kind of dishes you want to eat, especially in the lively environment of a central London watering hole where drinkers have their own space and staff are noted for their relaxed expertise. Dining rooms are divided between the first and second floors where, under the direction of Ashley Palmer-Watts (formerly executive chef at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal), the kitchen applies a certain simplicity and accuracy of cooking to impeccable ingredients.

Flames are at the heart of the operation, with wood-fired Ibérico pork chops, lamb cutlets, fillet, ribeye and T-bone steaks (plus lobsters) keeping company with the likes of lamb hotpot or beef and Guinness suet pudding on the hand-scrawled menu. Three wonderfully meaty scallops, lightly roasted, served in the shell with nothing more than a buttery, vinegary sauce and strips of crisp bacon, is a terrific opener that hammers home the kitchen’s modus operandi – namely sourcing prime ingredients and treating them with the utmost simplicity. And there’s something deeply comforting about a fixed price, no-choice lunch that can deliver real quality and value in the shape of prawn and langoustine cocktail, skirt steak with excellent chips and béarnaise sauce, and light, luscious sticky toffee pudding – all for £29.

Sunday's roast ribs of beef carved from a silver-domed trolley are terrific value too and have helped restore the tradition in this part of town. To drink, everyone orders Guinness – it’s fast achieving cult status here – and you can drink well without breaking the bank from the mainly European wine list. The pub now has its own 40-cover rooftop terrace for fine-weather dining (note that you can't book this separately). 

In 2022, Sam Pullan and his partner Nicole Deighton took over a long-deceased caff in a tucked-away corner off Briggate, turning it into an original and innovative restaurant. The revived Empire feels young and exciting although it's tiny, with room at street level for a smart little bar, where cocktails are shaken and they serve ‘the perfect Guinness’ against a backdrop of sparkling bottles and glassware, high stools and banquettes. You can eat here or in the windowless basement dining room, which may sound bleak but isn't: lamps on each table and Egon Schiele prints on the dark walls give it a cosy, welcoming vibe.

The constantly changing menu is made up of two halves (small or large plates) – perhaps a choux pastry éclair stuffed with duck liver parfait and finished with a sticky blood-orange glaze or pork pluma, cooked over charcoal and paired with a crunchy Lincolnshire Poacher cheese croquette and a lemon and treacle sauce. And whoever added tomato and crab ragù to a simple fried duck egg is onto something.

Roast chicken is the star of the show, turned on a giant rotisserie (billed as the ‘wall of flame’), with the fat and juices dripping down to ‘schmaltz’ the potatoes beneath. Choose whole or half, then pick your 'rub' and your ‘lather’ – perhaps smoked garlic and honey, or yuzu and ginger, or garlic, lemon and tarragon.

Pastel de nata has become an Empire signature, too. Freshly baked pastry cases filled with sweet custard are typically traditional, but they are lifted by the addition of Reblochon cheese plus a spoonful of roast chestnut purée on the side. Service is full of enthusiasm, and staff are great at talking everyone through the menu. 'A breath of fresh air for Leeds.'

‘Excellent hosts, great food and great service,’ was one verdict on this inviting vision of stone-built Cotswold rusticity, and they were delighted to see the place packed with diners and drinkers (the pub is a great favourite with Cheltenham racegoers). Outside, there’s a garden geared up for summertime BBQs and beers, while the interior is a mix of polished chesterfields, chunky farmhouse furniture and fancy touches. Above all, the Halfway is known for its appealing blend of rustic charm and modern dining based on finely honed technique and respect for seasonal ingredients.

Opening salvos keep it simple, perhaps a bowl of pea, courgette and mint soup with Otis & Belle sourdough or creamed wild mushrooms on toast with hazelnut and truffle pesto. To follow, home in on the grilled steaks (from Paddock Farm in Lower Brailes), while the famed celeriac and mushroom pie is guaranteed to win over just about anyone. Otherwise, there might be local venison loin with Evesham tomato, courgette and venison haunch ragoût or baked Cornish plaice with new potatoes and samphire. Also look out for the £16 ‘classic of the day’.

Sunday roasts get a resounding thumbs-up from readers, likewise classic desserts such as apple and blackberry crumble or the pub’s famous steamed sponge pudding sticky with black treacle and dates. Ales from the local Donnington Brewery are the drink of choice in the bar, although there are also some zippy cocktails and a fair selection of fairly priced wines.

‘The quintessential village pub’ is one visitor's verdict on this handsome Cotswold hostelry with rooms – and we wholeheartedly agree. The ‘Killy’ retains the charm of a cosy local boozer – villagers drink real ale and chew the cud around a wood-burning stove in winter – yet its kitchen produces highly accomplished and full-flavoured cooking, courtesy of Adam Brown (who polished his craft at Le Champignon Sauvage in Cheltenham). Diners head for the recently extended restaurant, where flagstoned flooring and stone walls dovetail well with the 17th-century bar. Panache is apparent early in a meal, perhaps with a delicate yet boldly flavoured appetiser of cheese and truffle gougère with a parsley emulsion. A thick little slice of smoked trout could follow, perked up by a zesty buttermilk and lovage sauce poured at table by one of the chatty, clued-up staff. Better still is a hillock of mushroom cream surrounded by celeriac velouté, with slices of cep and crunchy hazelnuts adding to the end-of-year flavours. Mains are similarly seasonal in style – notably a serving of juicy guinea fowl breast matched with nutty risotto-like pearl barley in a creamy chestnut velouté, the dish piqued by the bitter notes of caramelised chicory. A side of shredded ‘winter spiced’ red cabbage – tangy, sweet, rich – adds to the indulgence. Inventiveness and flair continue with desserts, witness a dark and luxurious chocolate délice, spiced with Szechuan peppercorns. The expertly annotated wine list keeps pace too, with big flavours galore – even in the kindly priced house selections.

The sign outside this whitewashed 17th-century inn – and its logo – reference the local custom of curling on the frozen waters of nearby Loch Kilconquhar, although most attention focuses on the output of the pub's kitchen these days. This part of Fife feels fairly remote, but chef/co-owner James Ferguson is plugged into local supply lines – not least from the Balcaskie Estate, which oversees 2,000 acres of mainly coastal farmland hereabouts.

Menus change daily, depending on what produce arrives at the kitchen door, so expect anything from refined seafood dishes such as steamed razor clams in oloroso to a starter of Shetland lamb offal, fired with pickled chilli and served with yoghurt flatbread. Line-caught mackerel might take its place among mains, grilled and served with horseradish-infused baby beetroot, while russet Tamworths provide the pork chops that are cooked with fennel, onions and sage.

When it comes to finishers, homemade ice creams with oaty shortbread are hard to beat, or look further afield for a sorbet of Amalfi lemons soused in Polish vodka. Drinks include craft beers and cider, plus a short but enterprising wine selection.

There are tables outside for the balmy seasons, and an air of simple rusticity within (complete with candlelight in the evenings) – thanks to co-owner Alethea Palmer, who runs the place with appreciable cheer and a breadth of welcome that extends to pre-advised dogs in the bar area.

The venerable Merry Harriers is to be found in the village of Hambledon (not the Hampshire one) near Godalming, a rural enclave set in a buffer of fields and woodland. It has been kitted out to suit the modern mood, with a soft green colour scheme and bentwood chairs at unclothed tables, plus candlelight in the evenings and fires in winter. A menu that exhaustively lists all the kitchen's and cellar's local suppliers inspires confidence, and the food is just what country-pub aficionados want to eat, with plenty of praise lavished on the Sunday lunch offer – a choice of ‘impeccably cooked’ roast platters, piled high and designed for two to share.

On the regular menu, lightly horseradished smoked mackerel pâté might compete with Trenchmore Farm beef tartare and plum ketchup, before mains take flight with some more adventurous ideas. Pork chop with sweetcorn, girolles and pickled walnuts delivered an impressive array of flavours when we visited, the superlative quality of the meat shining forth; a pheasant schnitzel with pickled red cabbage and pink firs was almost as good, although it needed a little more in the way of lubrication than an evanescent suggestion of beurre noisette. A fish option could be baked hake in bouillabaisse with saffron-scented fennel, while pumpkin and spelt risotto with hazelnuts, sage and chilli provides robust sustenance on the vegetable front. 

At the sticky end of things, everybody will feel spoilt by the likes of gingered-up sticky toffee pudding or a version of knickerbocker glory that finds room for chocolate mousse, candied orange and bits of homemade brownie. There's an impressive varietal spread on the carefully compiled wine list, ascending to the majesty of a mature classed-growth St-Émilion at a fraction of what you would pay in the not-too-distant capital.

*Elly Wentworth (previously head chef at The Angel) has been appointed as executive chef overseeing The Millbrook Inn and Fowlescombe Farm from 1st July 2025.*

In 2021, new owners gave the Millbrook Inn a much-needed makeover, but thankfully the refit has been done with restrained taste and the place still retains its identity as a local pub in a pretty south Devon village. There's a spruced up outdoor terrace with parasols, a pair of new holiday cottages across the road for tranquil getaways, and an extra dining space on the upper floor, where spindly old rafters and a paper globe lantern set the tone. 

Better still, the menu is now buttressed with organically produced rare-breed meats from the family farmstead (Fowlescombe) and the cooking is now in the experienced hands of Tom Westerland (ex-Gilpin Hotel in Cumbria), who is nudging the Millbrook in the direction of destination dining. Look at the precision and quality in a starter of pickled and salted farm cucumber with miniature cucamelon, sheep's curd and mint, or the savoury indulgence of beef carpaccio adorned with truffled horseradish cream and crispy capers.

Dressed Salcombe crab is every bit as fresh and toothsome as is proper, although it could do with a little more of the gribiche and farm herbs that partner it, while the Manx Loaghton hogget (cut into thick chops) is sensational, its fatty fringe blistered, the interior rosy-pink, sauced with its own jus at the table and accompanied by surprisingly delicate charred spring onion and courgettes. The day's fish is done in the charcoal oven and presented with smoked potatoes and samphire in caper-strewn brown butter.

Afters might offer bitter chocolate tart with raspberry sorbet or buttermilk panna cotta with strawberries and elderflower, but the sticky toffee crowd isn't ignored. Fans also say that Tom Westerland's Sunday lunch is ‘absolute perfection’, with superb meat, copious quantities of veg and other traditional accompaniments. In the drinking stakes, South Devon beers and ciders are given a spotlight of their own, while the adventurous wine list reaches for the stars, with glasses starting at £6.80 for a light Lisboa red.

Squeezed between a busy road and the Stourbridge Canal basin, this recently renovated industrial-era pub attracts fervent local support – especially for its Sunday roasts, where ‘perfectly pink’ beef, ‘amazing’ beetroot Wellington, and ‘phenomenal’ Yorkshires are singled out. The modern interior, with wooden flooring, sensitive lighting and a woodburning stove, has a homely, family feel in winter, while a tarmacked beer garden with views of the canal adds summertime appeal and is soon to be converted into a separate dining area.

Local suppliers are proudly name-checked on the main menu, which offers an appealing blend of modern pub food and Mediterranean-accented cooking. The kitchen is renowned for 'very generous portions’, and our visit began with an unnervingly huge ‘small plate’ of tender beef brisket surrounded by cheesy Parmesan polenta and topped with salsa verde. A request for horseradish brought a saucer of the freshly grated root in cream – the kitchen’s attention to detail is impressive. The ensuing ‘large plate’ was equally full flavoured and bountiful: a glisteningly white fillet of cod resting on a stew of beans, tomatoes and chorizo.

Puddings are also enticing – our tangy Bramley and cranberry crumble (paired with salted-caramel ice cream) came with unexpected squares of toasted gingerbread to boost its crunch. Staff receive universal praise; we found them polite, on-the-ball and exceedingly prompt. Breakfast (served Thursday to Sunday) includes the likes of kedgeree and shakshuka as well as the ‘Full Monty’. Wines are supplied by a local vintner, and the brief, good-value list is a cut above the norm; alternatively, enjoy a pint of real ale from a choice of four regularly rotated brews. This is, after all, a proper pub.

Hayfield in the Peak District was the birthplace of Arthur Lowe, Dad's Army's Captain Mainwaring, and is a favoured rest-stop for those tramping the Derbyshire hills. At its heart, the stone-built Pack Horse aims to be more than just the standard village pub, with a conscientious ethos of sustainable supplies from local sources, ranging from meat butchered only four miles away to unimpeachable regional fresh produce.

Menus follow the rhythm of the seasons (as celebrated in the kitchen's own cookbook) and the food has the kind of contemporary appeal that makes the place a destination. Glazed High Peak lamb belly appears surprisingly in a starter with a leafy salad and yoghurt, while scallops in brown butter gain an edge from pickled apple and kohlrabi.

Fish is generally handled with assurance, producing a main course of charcoal-roasted halibut with mushroom and smoked bacon bourguignon and pommes Anna accompaniments, while similar inspiration from the French provincial cookbook informs a dish of pork belly with a cassoulet of trotter and beans plus a salsa verde dressing. The charcoal oven comes into its own on Wednesdays, when a special menu includes Barnsley chops and rump steak.

To finish, there might be blood-orange and olive-oil cake with whipped ricotta or salted-caramel custard tart and almond Chantilly. Quality growers abound on the inspiring wine list, which opens with small glasses at £5.70, before darting acquisitively around both hemispheres.

This former bank makes a formidable dining room, complete with original marble, soaring ceilings, ornate wooden doorways and huge, slender windows. Run with personal charm and good humour, it’s an upbeat place that knows how to win friends. People love the way it strikes the right note between traditional and contemporary, and they also applaud the food.

Lloyd Morse’s kitchen takes a resolutely nose-to-tail approach, showcasing his deep love of Italian and French cuisine, with the emphasis firmly on provenance, seasonality and a style of cooking that is unfussy, hearty and deeply satisfying. In practice, that might mean Guinness-battered Gigha oysters with chilli mayo or roast chicken terrine with asparagus and aïoli, followed by braised leg of wild rabbit (cooked Spanish-style with pancetta, manzanilla, artichokes and almonds) or turbot with raw courgettes, broad beans, peas, tarragon and crab butter sauce. Elsewhere, a fondness for offal could see a weekend special of skewered chicken combs, gizzards and hearts grilled over charcoal (with a parfait crostini on the side).

The much-loved in-house bakery produces exceptional bread, as well as pastries (the Palmerston opens at 9am for coffee and viennoiserie), while desserts such as apricot and almond tart, elderflower panna cotta or chocolate and amaretto ice cream are highly praised. The bar is set out for dining, and is usually the only place you’ll get a seat without a booking. Here you'll find local beers from Newbarns Brewery, a well-thought-out whisky shelf, and a few cocktail options (including a signature coffee Negroni) to throw back while picking through an adventurous wine list that’s tilted towards the Old World, with about a dozen options by the glass.

Tucked deep within Highgate at its most herbaceous, the Red Lion & Sun makes every effort to appeal to what a dining clientele expects to find in a modern pub. Inside, it's done out in cool light blue, with simple wood furniture and a long bar with stools, plus a glassed-in conservatory room and two open garden areas (with heaters) too. It's as near to the ‘country pub’ experience as a hostelry in the metropolis can get.

A well-drilled team fronts the place, and the kitchen turns out a daily changing menu, updated every morning on the website, and formulated in conjunction with the local Highgate butchers: not surprisingly, the Sunday lunch session is always wildly popular, when prime cuts of 35-day, dry-aged Aberdeen Angus beef are the stars (including côte de boeuf for sharing). Meanwhile, the regular repertoire covers a lot of ground: Korean-spiced chicken wings or Dorset crab served in Basque style suggest a cosmopolitan approach to starters, or there might be chargrilled sardines doused in olive oil, lemon and garlic. Roasts typically take in slow-cooked, properly crackled pork belly with a cloud of buttery mash, but casserole cookery is good too – duck cassoulet appears in its canonical bean stew, elevated by the fat from chunks of smoked sausage. 

Desserts plough a populist furrow, taking in Eton mess, sticky toffee pudding or passion-fruit cheesecake. For those who are already sweet enough, British artisan cheeses come with Dorset pear paste and crackers. A conscientiously curated wine list starts at £8 for a glass of organic Montepulciano d'Abruzzo; there are also good cask ales, and not one but a whole selection of mezcals for the truly intrepid.

Beamed unexpectedly into the middle of the Wigmore, you might easily imagine you were in a London pub, albeit one that has been spruced and burnished to a high degree. A happy babble fills the air, there are cask ales and craft beers being quaffed all round (including the house special, Saison) and the offer extends to early-bird breakfasts and roasts on Sundays. The fact that the Wigmore is in a component organ of the conspicuously snazzy Langham Hotel, its kitchen overseen by Michel Roux Jr, is a mere background detail to the scene.

The bar snacks are a noticeable cut above the norm of your average neighbourhood boozer. The focaccia comes with caponata and vegan feta, or you could plump for crispy artichoke with saffron aïoli – in acknowledgement of the instinct for something crunchy to eat with beer. Otherwise, splash out on the gooey ‘XXL stovetop toastie’, a three-cheese goodie. If you graduate to the main courses, expect roast cod with cauliflower and curried leeks, pearl barley risotto or braised venison with pumpkin purée and chanterelles.

Whether you're calling them a snack or a side, the fat chips showered in Bloody Mary salt are worth the asking price, and nobody will baulk at cinnamon-spiced cheesecake with prune and apple compôte to finish. If you're more grape than grain, fear not. There's a decent showing of wines by the glass, with crisp whites and full-throttle reds adding to the gaiety.

Opened under new ownership at the end of 2023, this old red brick pub on a city-centre backstreet has a deceptively large and modern interior. For drinkers, there’s a bar and a cosy snug (along with high-quality real ales and cider on tap), while diners have various options: a section off the bar with round tables as well as seating for couples, a first-floor space (the Gallery) for private parties, and a bright ground-floor ‘Orangery’ overlooking the little urban garden.

Like the decor, the food is contemporary in style – a collection of small and large plates (available all-day on Fridays and Saturdays) served by enthusiastic young staff who also get an honourable mention from readers. There’s ambition here, both in the drinks selection (pairings from the well-thought-out wine list are offered with main courses) and the food, which incorporates fusion assemblies as well as pub food of the burger/meat-platter ilk.

Results can vary, with the stars at inspection being an expertly judged ‘small plate’ of three ox cheek tacos (tender meat and crunchy cucumber salsa, topped with a generous squiggle of spicy chermoula), and a moreish pudding of warm carrot and pecan cake with delectable ‘beurre noisette’ cream cheese and ice cream. Less accomplished was a ‘large plate’ of smoked tofu laksa (one of several diverting vegetarian options), where authentic Asian flavours were hard to discern among the general creaminess. A convivial hubbub and a groovy soundtrack of obscure 60s and 70s tunes (chosen by the staff) add to the vibe, and we've had abundant praise for the Sunday roasts.