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Daily Telegraph
Saturday 27th February 1999
You’re right, Mike – The Bay Horse is a good bet
Some time ago I got a letter from a reader called Mike suggesting a visit to The Bay Horse Inn in Cumbria. The food’s good, he urged. But each time I gave the hotel a ring the answer was the same; no room at the inn. Until one day luck struck…
Which is why this Saturday evening we’re weaving our way through the industrial environs of Ulverston wondering if we’re on the right track. Spotting a parked taxi, my husband leaps and ambushes the driver. After much arm-waving, he rushes back and leaps into the car.
By now it’s dark and the urban landscapes getting spookier by the minute. Is that a space station ahead, I wonder? It has launch pads, eerily bright lights, metal platforms and convoluted pipes and steps leading straight to the stars. Any moment now an alien will be landing on the car roof and… “That must be the Glaxo factory the taxi driver mentioned,” says my husband.
There’s just The Bay Horse… and a lonely stretch of estuary. The nice thing is that is hasn’t been refurbished beyond its station. Just inside the door, on the bar counter, a white plaster head of The Bay Horse stares inscrutably into space. The carpet – although new-looking – is pubby. So is the furniture. The walls are freshly painted. But apart from a cat, it’s empty.
There’s not a sound. Taking a peep into the adjoining conservatory, we see beautifully laid tables with elegant black candle-holders, the candles of which are unlit, crisp white cloths, starkly modern cutlery, fanned napkins. It’s like the Mary Celeste.
“Unwind from the stress and strain of everyday life,” the brochure had said. Our introduction to this novel idea eventually comes in the guise of an unstressed, unhurried man – the house manager, Peter McKinnon – who takes us to a small room decorated in shades of terracotta and cream. It’s warm in here. There, curtains are drawn. “When you wake in the morning, pull them back and all you’ll see is the water,” he promises.
Without inspecting the minutiae, we feel instinctively this is a room we can trust. (Habit dies hard though. I try out the hot water just in case.)
Dressing up, we saunter down to the bar… to find its full of people. Half an hour ago it was deserted – now it’s a frenzy of conversation. The little bar tables and alcoves are all occupied – we just manage to squeeze in a corner. Where have all these stylishly attired people come from? A woman in a cream dress is speaking in reverent tones about a recent weekend spent at Sharrow Bay. The men wear suits. Almost everyone is local, though they’re not locals, if you see what I mean.
Menus are correspondingly best-bib-and –tuckerish. Chicken, pork and pistachio terrine with Cumberland Sauce – yes, right up my street. Up my husband’s is smoked Aberdeen Angus fillet steak on a fresh spinach salad. So is breast of new season’s pheasant with sliced leeks, mushrooms and fresh sage wrapped in air-dried ham baked and served with a Madeira and port wine sauce. “Real fancy stuff,” he marvels. I go for the rack of New Zealand Lamb because it’s with roasted onions and I’m a roasted onion addict.
At 7.30 precisely, the curtain goes up and if by osmosis, everyone rises and walks expectantly into the now candlelit conservatory where the waitresses are wearing white blouses and long black skirts slit up to – well nearly though not quite. They bring divine leek and feta bread and a dish of butter sculpted into baby swans. To this that my husband was expecting Morecambe bay shrimps and Lancashire Hotpot!
The Lamb is pink and tender. The red onions – mmmmmm. My husband is purring like The Bay Horse cat over his pheasant with “fancy” bits. “This is serious food. I like the fact it comes complete with vegetables instead of a side plate of nasty limp things.”
“Except they wouldn’t be limp here,” I reply. “Mike certainly knew what he was talking about.”
Morning brings a view over mudflats, the estuary, a bridge and sea birds. Sliding the glass door open on to a private balcony with chairs and a table on which to read the newspaper. Why isn’t it summer? Nevertheless, we’re bathed in sunshine when we come down to breakfast in the conservatory and are treated to thick pulpy orange juice, strong coffee and what they call The Bay Horse Platter, a delicate rather than hearty affair.
Everything about this place is beautifully, lovingly done… the whole slick operation masterminded from behind the scenes by chef proprietor, Robert Lyons… Not cheap but certainly value for money.
Paddy Burt
Room Service
BAY HORSE STILL A WINNER AFTER 15 YEARS
Lancashire Life Magazine April 2002
Can it really be 15 years I drove along the road running through the industrial landscape of the Ulverston Glaxo Factory heading for The Bay Horse Hotel and Restaurant at Canal Foot, wondering with trepidation what lay in store for me?
What lay in store for me, in fact, was a superb dinner at a comfortable inn overlooking the Levens estuary which so abounds with bird life that the bedrooms facing it, with patio doors leading to a terrace, includes binoculars among their comprehensive equipment.
And that industrial landscape? It has disappeared in the hinterland, though I still imagine with amusement the emotions of a first time visitor who, to paraphrase Stevenson, travel hopelessly the better to arrive delightedly at what was this magazines Lake District Hotel of the Year in 1998-99.
The Bay Horse formerly a brewery coaching inn in the days of crossing sands at Morecambe Bay, and the fishermen’s cottages was an offshoot of Miller Howe and John Tovey, as Chairman, still takes a benevolent interest in it from warmer climes. The original team are still there, Robert Lyons, the former Miller Howe head chef who tool the place over, runs it as resident director, controlling the kitchen, with Lesley Wheeler and Peter McKinnon Managing the front of house operation.
Robert evens finds time to run day cookery courses in the spring and autumn in the demonstration kitchen. The chef patron system produces wonders from the kitchen and the 15 years were celebrated at a luncheon with a menu from which I selected fresh crab and avocado salad with lemon and chive mayonnaise, roast ribeye of Aberdeen Angus beef served with mustard popovers and fresh horseradish cream and brown sugar meringue with fresh strawberries and mango, washed down with a couple of Stellenbosch wines. JT maintains the interest in wines from the Cape. All was as it should be.
I will not however leave the subject of food without reference to the breakfast. Intending guests still inquire if the standard is maintained. It is. The Bay Horse provides the most comprehensive breakfast in the North West, in my experience. The Bay Horse Platter consists of bacon, egg, tomato, mushrooms, fried bread, baked apple ring (cuts the fatty stuff, you know), sausage, black pudding, white pudding and kidneys. There, I think I’ve remembered everything. No baked beans of course, they are not really civilised. And you can take buck’s fizz before cereals, fruit or porridge. Can anyone beat it?
Other quotes…
The Bay Horse is one of those finds that will send you home thinking that you have been very, very clever in discovering it before anyone else. The food is sublime, the view divine.
FLYING SPRINKBOK MAGAZINE
Robert Lyons – he has a keen eye for detail, creating dishes which reflect a clever combination of the traditional and the innovative
HOUSE AND GARDEN
Try the welcome shelter of The Bay Horse
Awards
Lancashire and Lake District Life Magazine “Lake District Hotel of the Year” 1998 – 99
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