On the road: County Durham

Clare Hargreaves discovers Lindisfarne oysters, lobster sandwiches and savoury chelsea buns spiked with rosemary and cheddar

Sandwiched between the dry-stone walls of the Yorkshire Dales, the wind-tugged moors and forests of Northumberland and the urban swagger of Newcastle, County Durham has a tendency to slip off the culinary map. It’s a region often passed through on the way to destinations that show their charms more overtly. Linger, however, and you’ll wonder why you haven’t explored it before. Among the county’s stone-built villages and rugged moors is a larder as well stocked as any if you know where to look. Durham, with its A-list university and 12thcentury cathedral, seems the natural place to begin, and I arrive just in time to catch the city’s monthly Producers’ Market on Market Place, which also houses a permanent covered market. I’m pulled between voluptuous yemistes (ricestuffed peppers), wood-fired sourdoughs, and burgundy slabs of Aberdeen Angus beef from Broom House Farm (broomhousedurham.co.uk). Towards the cathedral, a queue of students snaking up the cobbled street tells me I’ve reached Durham’s go-to coffee shop, Flat White Kitchen (flatwhitekitchen.com). A sibling of Flat White around the corner, its stripped wooden tables spread over two floors of a 17th-century townhouse. Both serve Ouseburn coffee and cakes made on-site (including a legendary rocky road) but Flat White Kitchen also offers pancakes and savouries and runs a monthly supper club. Nearby, at the relaxed Claypath Deli (claypathdeli.co.uk), a husband and wife team dish out equally fine coffee, plus Mediterraneaninspired produce and plates. Most dishes revolve around home-baked breads, from rye sourdoughs to challas and slowly-fermented ciabattas. For a city its size, Durham is strangely lacking in restaurants, with locals still mourning the 2015 closure of Bistro 21, owned by Newcastle food legend Terry Laybourne. Happily, though, its chef Ruari MacKay relocated to the city’s Garden House Inn (gardenhouseinn.com), so you can still sample the Leybourne vibe. With its relaxed shabby-chic décor, this cleverly manages to be both laidback country inn and elegant restaurant; slouch in a fireside armchair with a Durham Gin and Korean spicy pork bar snack or, in the evening, dine in the candlelit conservatory. Don’t miss the lobster sandwich, a steal at £12. South of Durham, near Darlington, is the Raby Hunt (rabyhuntrestaurant.co.uk). Chef-owner James Close was raised nearby and, as a boy, foraged Hamsterley Forest for wild mushrooms. He taught himself to cook, nearly became a professional golfer, then restored the inn in the village of Summerhouse. Three years later it won a Michelin star, and last year notched up a second – the first restaurant in the Northeast to do so. A warning: when dining here, start early, as the performance takes a good three hours. The only offering is a tasting menu of 11 courses, and many of those come in several ‘stages’, so the real tally is more like 16. Think theatre, not dinner. James seeks out seriously good ingredients and applies technical wizardry to transform them into works of art. I progress from glossy French caviar to plump Lindisfarne oyster, raw Australian wagyu beef and locally grown salad leaves. Yuzu, Japan’s delicious citrus, makes frequent appearances too, and James’ fascination with Japan has extended to sending one of his chefs to train there. I’m captivated by the carefully choreographed flavours – James has a playfulness that makes it all huge fun. There’s the wacky crockery; visual shockery from dishes such as squab leg, claws and all, draped across the plate. There’s wordplay like the truffle truffle petit four. And skulls, about which James seems to have quite a thing. Not only does a life-sized silver skull take pride of place between the wine decanters but dinner ends with skull-shaped chocolates whose message appears to be “Eat well before you die.” If you’ve (cleverly) booked well ahead, toddle upstairs to one of the Raby Hunt’s two rooms. Otherwise, splash out at 17th-century Headlam Hall (headlamhall.co.uk), a mile away. In contrast, it’s the relaxed buzz as well as the food that pulls punters to the 15th-century