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Can an inn with culinary pretensions avoid scaring off its core trade? It can when it's as good as this
It's only a £2.95 side salad, but it tells you just about all you need to know about Freemasons at Wiswell. Bright buttons of broad beans and peas, a few leaves, wisps of pink radish and pale mooli, sprouting broccoli poking out here and there, sweet-sour baby onions, roasted almonds for crunch and snipped chives for oniony sharpness: beats the usual bag-of-mixed-leaves afterthought, doesn't it?
Sure, there's nothing remotely cutting edge about any of that, but even so it is thoughtful, generous – and all too rare. Likewise, the Freemasons' menu headings – first courses include "Soup", "Lamb" and "Hand-dived scallops", mains "Cod", "Fish of the day" and "28-day aged beef" – read pretty much like those at any other inn with culinary pretensions, but the descriptions that follow provoke a swift double take. That seemingly innocuous "Lamb" starter? Turns out it's "roast sweetbreads, wild mushrooms, crispy hen's egg". And the "Cod" main is "roast loin, braised tongue, pig's trotter nuggets, English onions, piccalilli". Eh? That's not the kind of stuff you find in many pubs, let alone one deep in the Ribble Valley, where the regulars are more likely to be semi-retired, golf club and silver Merc types than skinny-jeaned, urban food spods. The decor, too, is no-nonsense rural Lancashire: sensibly sturdy wooden furniture, horsey prints on the walls, flagstones on the floors and a bottle of Sarson's finest on every table.
Local lad Steven Smith's mission statement on the website – "to create an exceptional dining experience, but without the formality" – is backed up by his menu, the £13.95-£15.95 set in particular (though he also has a £55 tasting menu, which is pushing it a bit, not least as that's dearer than the one at the much-hyped Dabbous). The genuinely welcoming front-of-house are on-message, too. Our waitress plonked an unasked-for jug of iced water on the table before we'd even sat down, then, without pausing to explain any "concept" (praise be!), asked what we fancied to drink. The correct answer for menfolk round these parts, by the way, is, "Pint of best bitter, please"; it's the law.
It's one thing to write a menu that pulls you in; it's another to pull it off. And, by and large, Smith passes the test. That sweetbread dish, say, had the tongue-fizzing, metallic tang you get from only the freshest offal, plus a bosky ragout offset by the crunch of a panko'd egg that oozed daringly soft-cooked white and golden yolk; the vaguely mushroomy foam that topped the lot, though, was a fussy touch too far. It would have been nice to have been warned that my mushroom starter off the set was the exact same dish minus the lambs' glands, but it's not as if I left any.
Mains weren't helped by turning up on those daft rectangular plates that cooks use to showcase their "serious chef" credentials, but are an annoying affectation to the rest of us, especially in a bloody pub. Roast English rose veal was three thick slices of gratifyingly chewy (non-sous vide?), well-flavoured meat with what came billed as "French-style peas" but were more wipe-the-plate-with-your-finger-good posh mushy peas. The à la carte cod featured a loin timed to a T, cods' tongues so obscenely yielding they deserved their own 0898 line, and porkily moreish pineapple chunk-sized cubes of crumbed, shredded trotter. The accompanying risotto, however, was so nutty as to be undercooked and, though doused in a gloriously sticky, meaty reduction, oddly flavour-free, I'd guess because the two hadn't been introduced in the cooking.
We shared cheese to round things off and, again, it highlighted Smith's attention to detail: six well-kept slices (a crunchily salty, Roquefort-lite Lanark Blue stood out) lined up on a board opposite assorted fruity mounds (sharp chutney, membrillo, grapes, semi-dried apricots), a plate of crackers and – a really neat touch, this – an apple juice shooter.
Smith clearly knows his onions, but you get the sense that he's reining himself in here to avoid scaring off the locals. That's a good thing. We've quite enough ego-tripping chefs to be going on with already, thank you.
• Freemasons at Wiswell Near Clitheroe, Lancashire, 01254 822218. Open Tues-Sun, lunch noon-2.30pm, dinner 5.30-9pm (6-9.30pm Fri and Sat). Set lunch, £13.95/£15.95 for two/three courses; à la carte, around £40 a head.