BY ROGER WATSON

One of the joys of having a small retreat in North Yorkshire is that my wife and I can explore the area, previously unknown to us despite living in the East Riding of Yorkshire for 25 years. There are artisan food shops in Malton and Helmsley, copious farm shops, Ampleforth ale and cider (take care with the 8% alcohol one), country houses, and pubs. We believe we have discovered the best place for a pub lunch in the vicinity—and possibly the best pub lunch we have ever had.

The lovely village of Hovingham, on the road between Malton and Helmsley, has a single hotel: the Worsley Arms Hotel. If you drive past this place at lunchtime, you are making a mistake. Hovingham has the appearance of a model village; it even has a ford over the stream that runs through it. All the houses are built of the same Yorkshire gritstone, in the same style, suggesting they were all originally connected to Hovingham Hall, which dominates one side of the main street. The Worsley Arms Hotel stands directly opposite.

Hovingham Hall is 450 years old, and the most recent person of note to live there was the Duchess of Kent in her childhood. Built in 1841, the Worsley Arms Hotel is a fully functioning hotel. The corridor floor has that slightly uneven feel of being well-trodden, and the walls are festooned with interesting local artefacts.

With parking at the rear—adjacent to a farm entrance—you can enter from the back into the old lobby. Lunches are served in the lounge, accessed through the public bar, which is quite small. When we visited in March (still winter in North Yorkshire), a blazing log fire welcomed us.

Greyhounds and other dogs were tethered to their owners, and the man propping up the bar might as well have had ‘farmer’ tattooed on his forehead. I think he wore a flat cap, but that may be my imagination. He was drinking beer from a dimple pint glass—a sight I hadn’t seen in years.

The lounge is full of cricketing memorabilia and photographs dating back to the mid-1880s. You get the impression that Hovingham wouldn’t be Hovingham without the Worsley Arms Hotel. Considerable credit must go to couples like the present owners, who keep such places going in difficult times.

Service in the lounge was quick. The softly spoken owner is ever-present, and we believe his wife runs the kitchen. The mains are typical pub fare, but the starters caught my eye—among them, parfait of duck liver and black pudding fritters. I chose the latter. When it arrived, I wondered if they’d skipped to my main course. The generous pieces of black pudding were beautifully battered and melted in my mouth.

I followed with a steak and ale pie like no other I’ve eaten. Accustomed to pub ‘pies’ being a meagre portion of stew in a tiny ramekin with a sad slab of puff pastry on top, I was delighted to see a proper pie—one with pastry on the bottom, sides, and top. It was packed with tender stewed beef, accompanied by a small jug of gravy. My wife had roast chicken, its golden hue betraying its corn-fed origins. Verdict: ‘delicious’.

It was a Sunday in Lent, so our eyes drifted to the foot of the menu. My wife had crumble—also ‘delicious’—while I indulged in treacle tart with a portion of clotted cream so generous it would have given my GP (currently concerned about my cholesterol levels) a heart attack on the spot.

Unable to sample the ale as I was driving, I noted a Theakston’s on tap. Pleasantly surprised by the reasonable bill, we left determined to return as soon as possible. Next time, I’ll make sure my wife is behind the wheel.

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Roger Watson is a Registered Nurse and Editor-in-Chief of Nurse Education in Practice.