Sunday Lunch at The Blind Bull: A Delightful Peak District Reward

Inside, there are stone floors, wooden beams, original coaching-inn details and only a limited number of tables. This is not a pub of deep velvet banquettes and enormous, comfortable chairs. The furniture is wonderfully traditional: spindle-backed chairs and rustic wooden tables which look as though they've been there for generations.

It is cosy without trying too hard. The atmosphere was warm and amiable, the service attentive, and there were dogs dotted around the room. My own dog was delighted by the occasional scrap. I was equally delighted by the wine.

The Sunday menu was slim, refined and seemingly quite sure of itself. I like that. When a kitchen offers relatively few dishes, there is less room to hide, and the ingredients have to do the talking.

There were a handful of interesting starters, the reassuring Sunday roasts and just enough alternatives for those who didn't come for Yorkshire pudding. Though, personally, I can't imagine why you wouldn't.

We began with whipped feta with jalapeño, cucumber, grapes and malt vinegar crackers (£15), and torched smoked eel with beetroot barigoule and spiced plum (£15). Both sounded far more ambitious than your average pub starter, so naturally we ordered one of each and swapped halfway through.

The whipped feta was fantastic. Salty, creamy and beautifully offset by those sweet grapes, with the cucumber offering freshness and the crackers a welcome crunch. My one complaint? I wanted more crackers. And frankly, more of the grapes too. When something works this well, rationing it seems rather unkind.

The eel was the more adventurous order, but a very successful one. If your mind has gone straight to jellied eels in London, forget that image. This was meaty and rich, with a character much closer to smoked mackerel. The beetroot and plum made very good companions.

Both starters were thoughtfully composed, though the portions were on the smaller side, particularly the feta. Delicious, yes. Generous, not especially.

One roast beef rump with horseradish sauce (£24.80) and one roast lamb leg with mint sauce (£24.50). The plates arrived with Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, greens and gravy, looking precisely like the reward we'd walked all those kilometres to earn.

Both were delicious. The portions were healthy without being enormous, and the cooking struck a happy middle ground between a comforting country-pub roast and something a little more considered.

Was it the biggest Sunday roast I've ever had? No. Was it the most refined? Also no. But I enjoyed it immensely.

Now, the gravy. We asked for more, as people with sound priorities tend to do. I did wonder whether the extra helping had quite the same meat-rich depth as the gravy on the plate originally, although I couldn't be certain.

Look, I know proper gravy takes time, effort and precious roasting juices. I know a kitchen can't just produce endless quantities out of thin air. But if you're serving Sunday lunch, you must understand the assignment.

We finished with a mille-feuille with mascarpone, blackberries and oat milk ice cream, and a Devil's food cake with hazelnut crémeux and salted caramel ice cream, both £12.

Another plate swap was inevitable. The mille-feuille was wonderfully light, particularly beside the more decadent chocolate cake. Both were good, though neither quite exceptional. I found some of the elaborate piping a touch overworked; occasionally I'd rather a pudding looked a little less busy and just got on with being delicious.

And £12 each? Perhaps a little strong. Those are starting to feel like London prices in the Peak District, although I appreciate how much time and effort goes into desserts like these. Enjoyable, yes. The part of lunch I'd return for first, no.

Sunday lunch is, in my view, an occasion for red wine. The Chakana Malbec was entirely appropriate, and the bill also included a pint of Guinness. By the time we'd worked our way through two starters, two roasts, cauliflower cheese, two desserts and drinks, we'd spent a fairly substantial amount.

That's around £73.47 per person. Not inexpensive for a country-pub lunch, especially when the starters are fairly small and the puddings cost £12 each.

But context matters. This isn't a pub you'd necessarily nip into for a quick bite on the way to the supermarket. It is a destination: a remarkable old building, beautiful countryside, attentive service and a menu with genuine ambition. On that basis, I left feeling we'd had a really lovely afternoon, even if every dish hadn't been a triumph.

Prices are from our receipt on 20 September 2026. The menu, prices and booking arrangements may have changed since our visit.