Regional & Seasonal: Lord Crewe Arms, Northumberland
Moorland produce is enjoyed at this homely 12th century inn, steeped in history and festive atmosphere
Ahaze of pearly mist hangs over a sheep-clad valley tinged by silvery frost. Its diaphanous wisps move and swell, almost imperceptibly, through leafless branches and over rolling hillside, shrouding the landscape in a misty veil. Beneath its opaline cloak nestles a honey-coloured village, built from the remnants of a medieval abbey and threaded by centuries of history.
Country lanes wind between stone cottages; spirals of smoke rising from their chimneys, hinting at crackling log fires burning within. Holding court over the village is a Grade II listed inn, dating to 1165 and dominated by crenellated towers and large stone archways. Starting life as an abbot’s lodgings, with a cloister and guest house for visiting clergy, the inn is now lively with the chatter of moorland visitors. A warm glow emanates from the deep, mullioned windows, reflecting its monastic heritage, while a sign outside reveals its revived purpose. During the festive season, leaf and berry wreaths adorn the heavy, studded doors, and the courtyard glimmers with the lights of Christmas. This is the Lord Crewe Arms, where provenance is valued as highly as comfort, and the secrets of the past are revealed within its ancient walls.
Swept up in the wilds of the North Pennines, the inn lies in the Derwent Valley, on the southernmost tip of Northumberland, within a short distance of the historical sights of Hexham and Hadrian’s Wall. Behind the cloister garden, the gentle current of the River Derwent drifts idly by, opening to a rolling swathe of hills and moorland. “The scenery is magical here; like something envisioned in a picture book,” says Tommy Mark, who started at the inn in 2013 as general manager. “I used to visit the village as a child, as did many of my family members, and now I only live 10 miles away. The surrounding countryside is wild, but breathtaking.”
Refurbished and reopened in 2014, the inn is a careful blend of old and new. There are two dining areas: the light and rustic Bishop’s Dining Room, with its pale-washed floorboards, arched windows and contemporary paintings, and the medieval-style Hilyard Room, decorated with heraldic shields, a flagstoned floor, an elegant candelabra and a large inglenook fireplace.
“It’s very homely at this time of year,” says Tommy. “Winter is perfect for fireside feasting and settling by warm embers.”
Open fires flicker in most of the rooms. One hides a secret priest hole, where Jacobite rebels sheltered during the 1715 uprising.
Steered by fireside cooking, the regularly-changing menu is as fitting as the building’s decor. Fresh vegetables are plucked from the larder of the walled kitchen garden, and dishes emulate the rhythms of the season. “We’ve been able to grow globe artichokes, juicy tomatoes, turnips, beetroot, courgettes and apples,” says head chef Emma Broom, who aims to produce food associated with the moors. “Fennel crowns picked from the garden are dried out for fennel pollen, used in our fish dishes. We source fresh fish from Hartlepool and Northumberland dairy produce from Slaley, which is local to us. It’s fabulous having fresh ingredients so close to hand.”
At Christmas, dishes of butter-roasted turkey breasts, soaked in steaming hot gravy, are served alongside sweet apple and cinnamon crumbles, sherry trifles and glasses of creamy eggnog. Berry-filled chutney, with fruit from the garden, is dolloped on plates, and the spicy scent of hot mulled wine fills the air. Long wooden tables become a patchwork feast of vibrant colour, while outside, milky-white snowflakes fall to the ground. “In midwinter, the landscape shimmers with a light dusting of snow,” says Tommy. “It takes on a starker beauty.”
As the gentle snowfall dampens the noise of holidaymakers and locals, the village is hushed into quietude, as it was in a bygone age. In this fleeting moment, it is clear why monks of centuries ago chose this Northumbrian valley as a haven of peace and celestial solitude.