Escape to: The Black Bull in Sedbergh
An overnight stay in a modern gastropub in deepest Cumbria
Have you ever been to a book town? I didn’t know they were a thing until I went to Sedbergh in Cumbria. Turns out, Sedbergh has been England’s official book town - a town with a disproportionate amount of book shops - since 2003. There is a sweet shop too, and a pet shop which doubles as a taxidermy outlet. So far, so League of Gentlemen.
The thing about quirky towns like this is, they suck you in (“You’ll never leave!”) with their gorgeous views and disarmingly friendly people. We spent a good hour chatting with a stranger at the Gundog Coffee Shop over the road the morning after we visited its flagship gastro pub The Black Bull. So evangelical was he about his recent move to this one-horse (and approx 15-bookshop) town from the far less picturesque Warrington that we were ready to pitch a tent in his garden and never go home.
As passionate as I am about championing Manchester’s food scene, I’m always a bit envious of Yorkshire and Cumbria with their rolling hills and countryside larder. While The Black Friar, The Edinburgh Castle and now Skof have all brought something of that ilk to Manchester and Salford, I still think we are short of great gastropubs here. Our hillier neighbours have them in bushels.
This brings me to The Black Bull in Sedbergh. A truly modern gastro pub that stands out from its colloquial surroundings not least by way of the Japanese roots of head chef Nina Matsunaga (who you may have seen on Great British Menu). Matsunaga was born in Germany and came to London at 18, later spending considerable time in Manchester - including working at Levenshulme bakery Trove, whose team is behind one of my favourite restaurants, Erst. Together with her husband James (who she met in Manchester when he was working at The Mark Addy), Nina opened a cafe called The Three Hares in 2014 and The Black Bull came later in 2018.
Nina’s German and Japanese roots can be seen poking out of dishes which are nonetheless firmly rooted in local produce. They only serve meat from animals reared less than 20 miles from the pub’s door. This is enhanced by other produce from what they call ‘the neck of Britain’ (Yorkshire, Cumbria, Lancashire, Northumberland, Durham, Derbyshire and Cheshire). James also forages in the beautiful local countryside, all of which makes for an exciting hyper-local approach.
We’re greeted so warmly that I wonder if I might have met our young host before, but no, it seems the ‘old friend’ approach is part of the charming service here. The pub is gorgeous, all creaky, dark polished wood and old books on Yorkshire dialect. The rooms are smart and classic but with touches of Japanese minimalism. I like that the bath products are named after one of my favourite words: petrichor. Unlike the dawn chorus of students returning from a night out that our earplugs protect us from in our Manchester city centre flat, we are awoken by a couple of ravens having a natter in the morning. God, it’s good to get out of the city sometimes.
We’re here to try Nina’s new tasting menu - with matched wines, naturally. And the wines are very much on the natural and low-intervention end of things. I recognise some of my favourites on the matched flight including Staffelter Hof’s Magnus Riesling with the snacks.
About those snacks: A classic crispy canape shell is filled with layers of cold, raw scallops and topped with caviar. It matches beautifully with the twang of the riesling, giving Michelin chippy tea. A warm spanakopita-esque pasty of wild garlic and Killeen cheese is a different kind of comfort snack. Not as pretty but packed with flavour. I love the hot/cold contrast of these appetite whetters.
Lamb fat butter could be my “what three words”. Wherever you locate a quenelle of it, you’ll find me there slathering it thickly on freshly made bread. In this instance, the bread includes ‘pretzel’ and beery varieties. This is the main carb hit of the meal. Something we are grateful for as neither of us is into carb-loading but it’s substantial enough to ensure we are full from this otherwise delicate meal.
Venison tartare is next, served with sauerkraut made from fennel, one of my favourite things in the whole world when it’s good which this is, and crispy puffed grains. It’s served with a chilled glass of Claus Preisinger’s cherry bright Puszta Libre, a crunchy red blend from Burgenland in Austria.
But it’s the main event of British White beef with asparagus and morel that stops us in our tracks. I’m not sure I have ever eaten a piece of fillet so tender. There must be something to that 20-mile rule. It’s served with a puffed-up piece of tendon (a posh pork - well, beef - scratching), a smooth morel puree and cross-section slices of white and green asparagus dotted with black garlic gel. It’s a masterclass in simplicity and sourcing but I wouldn’t have said no to at least a small spud on the side.
The cheese course is my second favourite. It’s a charred, thick slice of every chef’s fave cheese Baron Bigod with rhubarb chutney and craggy fig leaf crackers. I’ve never thought to set fire to a hunk of bloomy rinded cheese. It’s a strong move.
We skip dessert wines (we’re sweet enough) and enjoy the next courses without booze.
The first, our waitress tells us, was Nina’s golf-themed pre-dessert on Great British Menu. It’s fun and interactive with a white chocolate golf ball served on kalamansi ice cream. You get a little golf club with which to putt the chocolate ball into the hole and then smash it open to find the squishy white bean mochi that’s hiding inside. Love it.
To finish, a pristine dark chocolate mousse in a crisp, cocoa-dusted shell served with crushed macadamia and a silky smooth cherry sorbet. This would normally be served with Pedro Ximenez sherry but I can’t stand the stuff. Give me a fino any day. Instead we choose a glass red from the wine menu for after dessert and head to the comfort of the bar to brush up on our Sheffield cutlering vocabulary.
What a treat it was to stay in Sedbergh, such a beautiful, bookish town. It’s worth it for the Black Bull alone but we went home with armfuls of local sausages from the local butcher, a couple of dog-eared books and lungfuls of fresh air.
The Black Bull in Sedbergh, 44 Main Street, Sedbergh, Cumbria, LA10 5BL
*This visit to The Black Bull in Sedbergh was very kindly gifted to me by a PR, thanks Greg!
Excellent stuff - I was going to say that surely Sedbergh is actually in the Yorkshire Dales (which it technically is) but, when I also Googled 'Cumbria', Sedbergh is clearly also a Cumbrian town, which I find confusing that somewhere can be both in Yorkshire & Cumbria 😅
I also love Petrichor, I was reading about it recently actually. I've always, from a young age, been able to smell when slugs are invading a garden (but I think what I was actually smelling was either geosmin or petrichor): https://sciencenotes.org/petrichor-and-geosmin-the-smell-of-rain/
I also like Yorkshire too - for a start they make a great cuppa, but yes I also love the outdoors it provides and the friendly northern charm. I really liked the time I spent living in Roundhay (which whilst still essentially a suburb in the surrounding area of Leeds), I felt closer to nature around there (although we do have some parks in Manchester)