When it comes to pub-grub, I would not say I am particularly difficult to please.
All that I ask, is that when I leave the establishment, I am not left thinking about what's for dinner.
Seems pretty simple, no?
Well on many occasions I have been left holding a bill which should have been served in Napoleon's hat, given the price, stomach grumbling and brow furrowed.
The Lancashire hotpot, a 19th century industrial revolution concoction, came into my life by chance, looking for meal prep recipes which carried a bit of heft.
My eyes lit up when scrolling; the hotpot had it all. Meat, veg and potatoes are all you can ask for the perfect winter meal.
Truth be told, however, I just couldn't be bothered to make it on a Friday night.
Under the false pretence that it would be better to try a professional's version first, I decided to wait until I was in Lancaster the following day.
So Saturday came, and by lunchtime, I was pretty starved and, with no signal on my phone, I was forced to walk into the first place I thought might have it.
Cue Merchants 1688.
My reasons for believing this place would have a hotpot were not too complicated: a pub/ restaurant in Lancashire that pre-dated the American War of Independence by almost 100 years. It was therefore bound to have a sacred county meal.
I was rewarded for my lack of forward planning. The hotpot was brilliant.
Delivered at a temperature that pays homage to its name, the dish was served with good-looking, thinly sliced potatoes with considerate garnishing.
The spuds may have appeared small, but they packed a mighty punch, each delicately cut and well-cooked, acting as the perfect bouncer to what lay underneath.
Below, the lamb, the star of the show, was exactly what I had hoped for. Soft and tasting like every one of the 72 hours it had waited to end up on the plate.
Its supporting cast, the small vegetables (including the earnest carrot) and the sauce were a lovely addition to the mix when they all decided to cool down.
The accompanying pickled red cabbage on the side (as is tradition) hit the spot, and the focaccia had its work cut out to help me finish the contents before me.
Eating was made all the more pleasant by the venue itself. Tucked below ground like a restaurant you might find in The Shire, Merchant 1688 has nailed the lighting and atmosphere, which many pubs have got wrong in the effort to modernise.
The price came to £22, and yes, perhaps that is slightly steep. But that does not seem all too different to what competitors will be charging (please let me know if that isn't the case).
Rising taxes on pubs and restaurants, as well as the cost of living crisis, have left the hospitality industry with little to no choice on the matter.
Read more
Merchant 1688 is by no means a hidden gem, a scan of the reviews online after I had written the above told me I was not far off the mark, as one person on Tripadvisor summed up the prevailing sentiment: "The second best hotpot in Lancashire, after my mum's !"
A stamp of approval, if ever I've seen one.
As a lover of all hearty winter foods, ranging from Shepherd's Pie to Irish Stew, this one topped them all. My love story with hotpot has begun.
Share