Shibden Mill Inn X The Packhorse

Before I start yacking on about a recent mash-up between two of my favourite boozers (one I’ve visited innumerably, one I’ve visited only once, but first impressions do count), let me address the radio silence on these pages of late.

My days are filled with Other Stuff at the moment which means the upkeep of this site has had to take an unfortunate backseat. The eating’s still happening, but the writing isn’t. Or at least not as much as I’d like it to be.

It’s not like nothing’s been happening on the food front either. There’s been, amongst others, a trip to San Sebastian, which warranted more than the few posts on Instagram that I stuck up; a return to the Black Bull in Sedbergh (ditto); and most recently an overnighter in Cartmel, aka Rogan Town, for a sublime feed at Rogan and Co.

There are other Good Things coming up, too, so I’m going to try and get my 20 quid-per-years-worth out of this platform and get back to posting more regularly. I’ve missed it, even if you haven’t.

Back to business.

I don’t usually go in for these chef mash-ups primarily because I like knowing that the menu will be available the week after if there’s something that I like and that warrants another visit. These collaborations are one-off affairs that I can’t really ‘recommend’ given their fleeting one-night-only appearances.

But I can say that this was a finely balanced sequence of stuff that showed plenty of skill from two top chefs, and reminded me why I hold both places in such high regard. Everyone seemed to have a jolly old time and the Shibden Mill Inn is possibly/probably the most handsome pub in the country.

Straight outta Shibden that bread – enriched, sticky, light of crumb – was top-drawer as was Will Webster’s spin on ham, egg and chips where shreds of smoky ham hock were piled underneath a creamy potato foam.

My visit to the Packhorse last year featured some on-the-money fish cookery, and chef Luke Payne took me back to that night with a slab of torched mackerel sparked up with the addition of gooseberry and horseradish.

But it was Payne’s High Peak lamb – three rosy pink chunks of the stuff, the execution of which could not have been more exacting, that was the headline act of the night. I don’t each much meat at the moment being of the mindset that when I do have it I want the good stuff and I want it cooked by a pro. This dish was that.

Payne’s salted caramel custard tart of much wibbly renown seemed popular too, and for good reason. But the preceding dessert from Webster – hay, blackcurrant, malt – one gear down in the sweetness levels, also did the job in its own understated way.

If all chef collabs could take place at the local-to-me Shibden Mill Inn I might just go to more of them. Until then, this was a solid reminder – if one was needed – that the food-led-pub movement shows no sign of abatement, and I for one am all for it.