“Hmm that’s another fine place you’ve got me into”
Lancashire once again throws up another place to drive out to. Truth be known Ive been passed The Waddington Arms a few times on the way to north west foodie favourite, The Parkers Arms (reviewed here). We regularly meet up with a couple from Leeds and often meet halfway. This time I suggested The Waddington Arms in (guess where)? Waddington as a decent meeting point.
All the accoutrements of a fine Sunday lunch were in place. Sleepy idyllic village, check, good country walks, check, fine country pubs to stop off at, check. However, the sleepy village bit wasn’t quite as sleepy as anticipated. Being fathers day and the annual Waddington duck race it was far from sleepy. Indeed the place was cordoned off and suitably rammed with revellers intent on losing their mortgage on the dubious fate of a numbered plastic duck! Thankfully I had booked a table, and it was with a suitably smug swagger that we entered this fine establishment and took our place in the rather grand dining room. Set to one side of the heaving traditional stone floored bar, the space held host to several enormous, antique dining tables. Im sure one could seat twelve easy, indeed ours could have sat eight. We sat in huge comfy carvers and glanced out into the duck waving throng through heavy tartan drapes.
A couple of Harrier pale ales had the gentlemen in the crew purring nicely. We surveyed the enormous, cream and blue menu card. Along with a chalked specials board it covered all the British classics and a few other bits too. The card promised the best of the local produce.
Starting off I was left slightly disappointed really. My confit duck spring rolls on a pineapple and a chilli chutney base were pleasant enough, but a poor second to the wonderfully peppery, chunky vegetable soup, the sensational black pudding, poached egg, haddock, bacon on a crumpet and the sublime fish cakes enlisted by the others.
I was much more enraptured with my main. A rather super fillet of sea bream atop an uncious seafood risotto, bursting with meaty mussels and flavour. Others had a creditable fish and chips and a rather good steak and ale pie with all the trimmings.
I ventured, as always for a sweet end. A cuboid of bread and butter pudding, slicked in cream for me. Would have preferred a grand, messy dollop courtesy of a shovel from a huge earthenware bowl, but hey it tasted fine.
I should mention that after Donald (duck number 343) had romped home down the fast running village stream the heavens decided to disgorge its torrent. Waddington Arms being the centre of all the action became the natural refuge for the bedraggled hordes. Our previously civilised dining area became the place where tortured parents rested their weary and increasingly bored youngsters. We took the light hearted commotion in our stride. It went to show really just what community spirit is all about. Clearly Waddington Arms know their place in it, right at the centre. It’s a super place and I’m sure with kinder elements and a less frenzied pace it is a definite thumbs up and one to get to again.