The Kirkstile Inn (At Loweswater, Western Lake District)

If you want to stay thin, avoid the Kirkstile Inn, at Loweswater, for not only is the food superb, but the portions are “Fell Sized” – and for those of you who don’t know, in Cumbria, they call a mountain a Fell. So by “Fell Sized”, I do mean huge, and I am sure that if you stayed a week, you would simply fall over from the wonderful food, and the superb boutique beers that are both a feature of the Inn. And what better way to enjoy such delights than to stay at the Inn, in a very comfortable room, and enjoy the food, drink, the isolation and the vistas which really do take your breath away. In 2009 it was the Western Lake District’s “Pub of the Year” and it is easy to understand why.

The Kirkstile Inn, Loweswater

There has been a place of hospitality at the site of the Kirkstile Inn since at least 1549, and as you look out over the fields to distant Crummock Water and beyond, the brooding bulk of Melbreak Fell with its green uplands and spill of scree down its slopes, it is not hard to imagine that little here has changed during the in-between years. The black faced sheep still graze in lush pasture, the stone church stands adjacent to the Inn, the Fells beside the Buttermere Valley, still look like the raised knuckles on a clench fist. The locals still speak slowly and with a soft burr, the whitewashed or grey stone houses still stand amid the oak and the yew, and the dry-stone walls still roll over the hills and valleys like exposed intestines. The only ‘flash forward’ are the tiny bituminised roads which amid the stone walls, really make you feel you are in a u-tube, and the bright red phone box with its post box cohort, which are probably a relic of the 1950’s although nowadays they carry a notice that they don’t take coins!

Loweswater countryside

Amid this quiet beauty, the Kirkstile Inn is a welcome stop for thirsty Fell walkers and mountain bikers, as well as lodgers and diners. In fair weather, the drinkers sit at wooden tables on a grass, geranium skirted, terrace, overlooking a rivulet with an ancient stone bridge, all under the dark eye of Melbreak, but inside, the low-ceilinged bar with its exposed ancient beams, is warm and inviting. A bunch of handles, like those in a grab-crane, await the skilful art of the barman for the slow and steady pull of a pint of the local, real ale, although international beers are off to one side, almost as if an after-thought. There are big wooden tables and church pew like seats, and blackboards with the daily specials. The wooden floors all creak, and at smallish doors, there are signs to “mind your head”.

We had booked into the Inn for two nights and were in a modern "add on" to the main building, with a small but comfortable bedroom, toilet and shower, and a small, separate sitting room. There was plenty of cupboard space, good drapes to keep out the 4.30am coming of light, very efficient heating, and a good flat-screen television. From our front door, we had a superb view of the stream, livestock, and Melbreak, and all only a hop and a skip to the bar and dining room.

The dinner that night, set the bar, an excellent, thick and warming mushroom soup followed by a huge portion of steak and ale pie, full of the most delicious chunky pieces of beef which fully filled the crusty pasty like water does a hosepipe! Wonderful gravy and potato mash, traditional fare, but oh so tasty, and filling, especially when washed down with the Inn's own American Invasion beer, surprisingly its strongest at 4.4% alcohol. (My experience of American beers has always been a bit like Monty Python's claim that dring them is a bit like making love in a canoe … rather like {activities near} water!) My wife had the pork with squash mash, a good blend of subtle tastes, and decoratively presented on the plate, with a bowl of vegetables and one of life-boat sized chips. Although fit to bust, I did manage to finish the rhubarb and apple crumble, with a little beaker of canary yellow custard, although I took a long time to finish!

Now the full Cumbrian breakfast (minus the Black Pudding, thank you) really does involve hand-to-hand combat, and mine was consumed under the disapproving view of my wife! The bacon, I am sure, claimed the whole hog, and was wonderfully flavoursome without being too salty or streaky, the Cumberland Sausage was tasty and not too fatty, the eggs looked as though they had come straight out of the sun, the mushrooms and tomato, taken from the earth not ten minutes ago. There was plenty of toast, local jams and hand churned butter, and a wonderfully squat Herman Goering-type teapot, full of external regalia, large, and with a big spout! It is easy to see why in these parts, the men are stout.

View from the Dining Room

After a day of travelling the many spectacular passes, a cake in Keswick, a coffee in Cockermouth, we ambled back to the Inn for a fresh, open-sandwich lunch, white wine for she the Treasurer, an excellent Yates ale for me. Many walkers had gathered in the sunshine for food, for the next stage of their efforts, and their accompanying dogs were all well behaved, Labradors and Westies, Cockers and Staffies, and everywhere, the Inn had thoughtfully provided doggie drinking bowls. Afterwards we lay on our beds and dozed, stomachs grateful, and preparing for the evening assault.

The Chef, we were told, is notoriously shy and prefers to work with food instead of people. Fine by me and I would be quite happy to see him restricted to the stove and bench tops by a long chain, as his food preparations are simply scrumptious. In the evening I started with the Air dried ham and Stilton with balsamic salad and sun blushed tomatoes although if I had been more daring, I might have gone for the Haggis with Black Pudding in beer batter balls, with whisky and onion marmalade! There was an interesting Lasagne and a special trout dish, but I settled for a huge Four Hour slow cooked Lamb Shoulder done with red wine, fresh mint and honey sauce, and buttered mash with side veggies including a delicious red cabbage, all washed down the locally brewed Loweswater Gold ale, the champion beer of Northern England. My wife went for a superbly moist Chicken stuffed with fetta, leeks and red capsicum, and I was glad she gave me a taste. There was simply no prospect for desert after such a wonderfully lavish meal, and our only sorrow was that we had to send a message to the shy Chef, to tell him how much we had enjoyed his art.

Air Dried Parma Ham                                                                     

Stuffed Chicken

The Kirkstile Inn is one of those places where isolation simply does not matter. Good and inexpensive food, fine and original ales, magnificent vistas, why Wordsworth’s “bliss of solitude” is simply made even better!  

Kirkstile Inn, Loweswater, English Lake District, Cumbria, England, UK, CA13 0RU

Tel: | Fax: +44 (0) 1900 85239

kirkstile.com

Winfred Peppinck is the Tales of the Traveling Editor for Wandering Educators