Day 3 of my Grand Tour round North Yorkshire, and we’re in sight of Castle Howard., ancestral home of top pub ticker Si BRAPA Everitt (possibly) and only a few miles from the home of Bad Kitty. Of course, Brass Castle once again wasn’t open, which is why it’s in the Beer Guide.
The Howardian Hills were at their best as I entered Crayke (pronounced craic) on the last sunny day of Spring.
Hilly climbs, cobbled streets, twitching curtains; all you want from an English village,
That and a “Proper Pub Sign” and a window full of Michelin stickers to entice you and your £50 lunch budget into the village gastropub for Thursday lunch.
Inside the beer choice was slightly better than that for dogs, but only just.
This is certainly a lovely dining pub. When we brought my parents to stay at Terrington in 1995 (you remember, the time Mrs RM drank two pints of Old Peculier in 20 minutes) we thought the Duck a ‘l’ Orange* round here as good as anything we’d had in England.
They’ve even provided a picture of the award-winning chef so you can see how happy and diverse he is. And people think Mark Crilley is a child prodigy.
But if you don’t want to eat, here’s your table;
I’m scared of dogs and I’m scared of chess boards, so I stood at the bar with my half of Boltmaker.
But this isn’t a place for barflies, even me, and I stepped outside to avoid bumping into plates of DalesLlamb and Tarte Tatin. And popcorn, the new hipster food.
In any south-eastern town on a day touching 13 degrees the outside area would have been packed, but Yorkshire gentlefolk wear cardigan when it hits 25, and I had the patio all to myself.
An OK Boltmaker/Best Bitter, no more. Tim Taylor’s great beers are rarely worth their price premium in my experience.
But the Eucalyptus and Frankincense handwash was to die for.
*We were middle-class back then, of course.