The Old Mill, Knitsley

12:25pm Friday 25th July 2008

THERE can be few more pleasant spots to enjoy a leisurely Sunday than Knitsley Mill.

A stream moves slowly from the reed beds of the trout lakes, past the chugging waterwheel and under the rickety wooden bridge.

The main entrance is over a stone-built bridge leading to the flagstone courtyard filled with picnic tables overlooking the water.

Fat fish swim lazily downstream; a trio of ducks waddle aimlessly between the benches as if they own the place; doves flutter into the dovecot and on the hill ahead, just beyond the llamas, a truly magnificent stag briefly raises his antlers before returning to munching the grass.

According to the brochure, the family-friendly pub, which lies just off the Consett to Lanchester road, is on the site of a 16th century mill, although how much of the premises is that old is a debatable point - a brass plate proclaims the waterwheel was opened in 2001.

Its formal name is The Old Mill, Knitsley, although it is popularly known as Knitsley Mill and popular it most certainly is - booking is advised as we discovered to our cost a few Sundays ago when we were turned away.

Lesson learned, I returned last Sunday after booking a 5pm table for three with my wife and sixyear- old son.

The twin themes of the ancient and the rustic continue inside. The entrance way is a homage to hunting, while heavy flagstones line the floor. The bar area is cellar-like, dark to the verge of dingy, logs piled in the corner.

In contrast, the small conservatory- style restaurant is light and airy. Various agricultural and angling implements adorn the walls, unidentifiable to a townie like myself, while oars were fixed to the half-domed roof above our heads.

Given the impressiveness of the setting, the food seemed almost an irrelevance, but nevertheless we ordered. The weekday menu is pretty impressive and varied, even daring - among the starters to catch my eye were the duck and chorizo sausage risotto and the oysters in buttered spinach, champagne and cream.

However, the Sunday lunch menu was, like pretty much every pub I visit these days, limited to traditional roasts, albeit with an alternative of cod in white wine sauce and a vegetable puff pastry ragout.

We skipped starters and were advised, given the lateness of the hour, that the roast leg of lamb and pork loin were unavailable. I went for the topside of beef, both my wife and son went for the roast chicken (£7.95 each - £3.95 for the child portion).

It arrived within minutes and an impressive sight it was too, the plates piled improbably high.

The beef was simply exceptional.

The menu blurb said it was locally- sourced from Matfen, in Northumberland, and it was superbly tender, carved in generous portions and perfectly cooked with just the slightest tinge of pink. It came on a bed of deliciously creamy mash with more than a hint of salt, topped with a wonderfully light and crisp Yorkshire pudding, admirable roast potatoes and a full-bodied gravy.

The chicken was equally fabulous, although as a woman who enjoys her food at mouth-blistering temperature, my wife said her dish could have been hotter.

Unfortunately, the side vegetables were a little disappointing.

There were plenty of them - a generous bowl of carrots, parsnip, green beans, cauliflower and broccoli - and they were obviously of good quality. They were, however, considerably undercooked - in particular the broccoli, which took quite some cutting.

Service was equally a mixed bag.

We ordered drinks on arrival and reminded a waitress about our order when our food arrived. When we had still not been served as we approached the end of the meal, I finally had to leave the table to find our original waitress and remind her.

To be fair, other than that disappointing episode, service was very good. The staff were friendly and helpful, despite very obviously being at the end of a long and busy shift. They chatted to the family, volunteered to open the restaurant doors when my son was hot, orders were taken and food delivered quickly and efficiently.

When the drinks finally arrived - a large glass of perfectly drinkable house dry white (£3.20) and a bottle of still mineral water (£1.25) - they came with what was clearly a heartfelt apology, which goes a long way.

The dessert menu was impressive.

My son opted for profiteroles (£3.95), which came filled with vanilla ice cream and smothered in a sticky caramel sauce. He declared them to be absolutely delicious, although having tried them myself I felt them best left to the children or those with a supersweet tooth.

Tempted as I was by the coffee and Baileys creme brulee - and intrigued by the whiskey and lavender creme brulee - sometimes only crumble will do.

The dish in question was a superior apple, raspberry and almond oat crumble (£3.95), which was doused in cream and thoroughly delicious, the oats providing a more adult taste than some sicklysweet crumbles and the fruit retaining a hint of the original tartness.

The final bill for three mains, two desserts and several drinks came to a fairly reasonable £36.20, perhaps a little more expensive than other hostelries, but good value nevertheless considering the overall quality of the food and the fabulous surroundings.

Eating Out