Little 3, Thirsk

IT’S been good to see a bit of debate about the merits of this column in recent weeks, even if some of the sentiments expressed have been slightly puzzling.

Primarily, it’s intended as a guide to readers seeking introductions to potential places to visit.

Subjective and one-sided? Yes, of course – that’s the nature of criticism. It is objective only in the sense that its authors perhaps eat out in the region a little more than most, and so are able to rate establishments on fixed criteria on an unashamedly unscientific basis.

Acutely aware of the effects – for good and for ill – our words might have on people’s livelihoods, we choose them very carefully and endeavour to be fair. We give credit where it is due and, where appropriate, put criticism in the context of personal preference. After all, one man’s meat is another man’s poison.

Thankfully poison, neither from a pen nor on a plate, awaited us for a recent Friday night visit to Thirsk’s representative of a growing stable of pubs coming under Richard Sykes’ West Park Inns banner.

Little 3, is in Finkle Street, the narrow one-way thoroughfare that is the marketplace’s main entry point from the south.

Inside, it’s clean and tidy and the welcome warm (though not from two of the three fireplaces, which are occupied by cold, look-the-part-only stoves). The décor though is a bit reminiscent of a fairground haunted house, with topsy turvy ‘wooden’ beams in the walls and a nicotine yellow colour on the walls that serves like a hangover from pre-smoking ban days. There are, of course, some (three?) tuns – large casks – dotted around.

Some of these hard to eradicate twee touches perhaps date back to its previous incarnation as Ye Olde Three Tuns? It was renamed to distinguish it from the larger Three Tuns nearby.

It’s important to remember though that this is a pub (or more precisely, a “Real Ale Bar & Brasserie”), and I for one would rather be in an ugly pub with good beer and food than a pretty place with neither. It’s busy too – both with diners and drinkers out to make the most of their Friday night.

A pint of Farmers Blonde from Sheffield’s Bradfield Brewery, served by friendly manager Sean Kirkley, gets me off to a good start, while the driver goes for a fruity mocktail (part of the pub’s health drive for January which also includes a “Skinnylicious” menu). Appleberry or somesuch; it came in a big jam jar with lots of ice and was, she said, like a posh Ribena.

We made our choices over drinks in the bar and, nice and promptly, were ushered upstairs to the brasserie dining area. Again, we’re not talking an interior designer’s dream here – there appeared to be a bit of an heraldic theme, with a shield on the wall and three lions paper bunting. I liked the battery operated glow worm jam jar light on our table, mind.

Starters were a mixed bag: I had the Tuscan bean soup (£4.95) which was quite rich, but with black-eyed peas instead of the usual cannellini beans and a flavour of (I think) smoked paprika rather than pancetta – not very redolent of Tuscany, somehow. Perhaps there’d been a requirement to keep it meat-free?

Anna’s lamb koftas with tzatziki and sweet chilli (£6.95) were an unusual option. The lamb-on-a-stick was pungent, the tzatziki a palate-refreshing, minty contrast.

Other starter options included a vegetarian spinach, mushroom and applewood tart (£5.95), pulled pork, ginger and beetroot chutney, brioche crisps and crackling crumb (£6.95) and smoked haddock fishcake, poached egg and Hollandaise sauce (£5.95). In retrospect, all seem more appealing that what we opted for on the night.

Main courses were much more successful for both of us.

My wife opted for the venison special (£19.95), this looked, and tasted beautiful, a delightful range of flavours in each mouthful.

My rump of lamb, celeriac puree, sweet potato fondant and charred balsamic shallots (£16.95) was great – a real triumph of quality vs quantity. Some might have added a side of chips or more vegetables £2.50), but in terms of flavour and variety, it was ample.

Coming from the school of squirts and smears, chef John Robertson populates his plates with a tasty dab here and a colourful slick there. All to good effect, and moving the meal from the realm of pub food to restaurant fare. Mind, the prices had already raised expectations to that point in any case.

Other options for mains ranged from beer battered fish, chips and mushy peas; spag bol and a vegetable burger with mozzarella and roast red peppers (all £9.95) to confit port belly (£14.95) and an 8oz sirloin (£16.95). I remain curious about a second veggie option of curried cauliflower florets with orzo pasta (£9.95).

Onwards and upwards to puds, a chocolate brownie with salted caramel ice cream and orange puree £4.95) was a pleasing mix of salt and sweet, while my banana bread and butter pudding with rum and raisin ice cream (£4.95) was a nice variation on the familiar theme, with caramelised fresh banana mixing with crunchy banana chips and a pud that was just the right side of stodgy.

But the dish was spoilt by the awful ersatz rum flavour in the ice cream. Strongly chemical, it dredged up a long-forgotten memory of anaesthetic from the days when dentists put you to sleep to get to grips with your molars. Yuk.

The bill, with two beers and the fruity mocktail, came to just over £67. Easier on the wallet options include an early bird menu (available Wed-Sat, 5-6pm) of £10.95 for two courses, £13.95 for three, and regular special nights – for example two steaks and a bottle of house red for £39.99 on Fridays.

So, all in all, a generally good meal served by friendly, competent staff in a lively pub atmosphere.

But, as ever, don’t take my word for it – go and see for yourselves.

Little 3, 13 Finkle Street, Thirsk, North Yorkshire, YO7 1DA

Tel: 01845 523782 Web: littlethree.co.uk

Food served: Wed-Sat noon-2.30pm and 5-9pm; Sunday noon-7pm (pub is open seven days)

Fine for disabled (entry via rear car park)

Ratings (out of ten): Food quality 8 Service 8 Surroundings 6 Value 7