The Pheasant
Without traipsing over old ground, just how a village the size of Harome can be home to not one, but two restaurants is still a marvel. That both of these have the prominence most can only dream of simply beggars belief. They also share more than a postcode with one (The Pheasant) having been owned by the other (The Star) but now operate independently; don’t ask, it’s complicated but seems to be working.
The Pheasant recently scooped up the prestigious accolade of Best Small Hotel at the White Rose Awards. Hence why I was once more headed up Sutton Bank and battling the wind and rain howling across the Moors, in hope it would be worth it.
The Pheasant is saturated in classic English country style, which, though appearing effortless is so carefully thought through that it scoops you up and envelops you in its cosiness. Sinking into an over-sized, under stuffed sofa (despite a slight grumpiness that early diners had bagged the fireside spots) life felt exceedingly good. So comfy was I that I could quite happily have had dinner on my knee.
