AN ANCIENT beech tree dominates the heart of Husthwaite, its branches spread out to shelter a triangle of village green beyond the 12th-century churchyard.
From here, the roads depart in divergent ribbons, the houses a miscellany of architecture from the faded red brick and sash windows so fitting this bucolic scene to prosaic cement render and double glazing. Those north of the main street have views towards Kilburn’s white horse.
Just down from the church is the village pub. In the past, it has been the Blacksmiths Arms, the Orchard, and the Balmoral, but in its latest incarnation, it has been beautifully extended and sumptuously fitted to become the Plum and Partridge, with fine dining and beautiful bedrooms to match.
The name combines the fruit trees in the garden with the local passion for shooting; each bedroom has a tall gun cabinet. Its re-opening was timed nicely for the approach of the glorious twelfth.
From the red-brick storm porch of the front door you emerge into a long, open-plan space with drinking spaces to either side, a long attractive bar to your right, and a beautifully-fitted dining area dead ahead – the twinkle of wine glasses, the glint of highly-polished cutlery, the linen napkins a shock of geometric white. The floor is expensively tiled, giving a passable impression of traditional Yorkshire stone flags, while the hunting theme is maintained with displays of antlers and horned skulls.
There are three real ale handpulls on the bar. The choice of beer changes, though Timothy Taylor Landlord seems to be a popular fixture here.
So after a first drink in the bar, we are shown through to an intimate table in the corner of the dining room and treated to a three-course meal whose wonderful consistent quality is matched only by the kind and attentive service.
I start with the chunky discs of rich black pudding topped with a runny poached egg and a brittle slither of crispy ham. My partner’s garlic mushrooms might seem a prosaic choice, but here they are dramatically presented atop a long raft of toasted ciabatta adrift on a small sea of creamy sauce.
Our glasses of a rather splendid Rioja are replenished before the main courses arrive, for my partner a sturdy ribeye steak with all the trimmings, for me a moist fillet of seabream, potatoes, and a generous sprinkling of crunchy, tasty samphire.
A shared cheeseboard and some devilish oily espressos round off an evening of truly excellent pub dining. The fact we are staying in one of the perfectly re-fitted bedrooms upstairs has enabled us to fully indulge; there’s certainly no wine wasted tonight.
And after a great night’s sleep, we were back at the same table for a hearty full English breakfast, which we only partly walked off during a brisk morning ramble around this pretty village just north of Easingwold.
And yet, lovely as this all was, I do sense that the Plum and Partridge has missed a significant opportunity. A village pub should be the beating heart of the community, the place where folk comes for a pint after work, to meet their friends, to chat, to socialise, and – if you’ll forgive the word – to enjoy some banter at the bar.
And I’m sure all these things are allowed, but the Plum and Partridge is not set up to accommodate them. The open plan design means there’s really nowhere to sit without feeling that you’re in the dining room, or where your conversation would not intrude.
Telephone: 01347 868642
Website: www.plumandpartridge.co.uk
This is an edited version of an article that appeared in the Yorkshire Evening Post in 2018.
