Tour de Force | Review: The Box Tree, Yorkshire

On 7^th July the first stage of the Tour de France takes place… in Yorkshire, which last time I looked was in the North West of England and not France. It’s one of those new sponsorship deals which doesn’t make any sense at all, but means quiet little towns like Otley, Ilkley and Skipton will get their fifteen minutes of fame as cyclists flash through.

My experience – from the London Olympic Bikeathons – suggests otherwise. Outside my front door there were several days of barrier erecting, several hours of traffic jamming, then fifteen seconds of stretched Lycra whizzing by in a sweaty blur.

Whatever rings your bell.

Some actual Tour de France-ing – Malcolm Elliot, by Bradley Ormesher for Welcome to Yorkshire

About an hour after the cyclists pedal off from Leeds on their pushbikes, they’ll pass through Ilkley, a pleasant, well-heeled town which is neither tourist tweeville nor post-industrially despondent. It’s got two claims to fame, a song “On Ilkley Moor Batat” which nobody understands, and the fact that Marco Pierre White, the most famous early warrior of the British food revolution, started his career at the Box Tree, itself a stalwart of British Cuisine, sitting just off the town centre. The cyclists could pit stop at a marquee for sandwiches and drinks laid on by the Box Tree, but if I was them, I’d dismount and go for the full three hour lunch.

It’s got a Michelin Star, like four other establishments in Yorkshire, which means something. It means that people know what to expect. In France, you can experience endless caravanserai of love touring the one star establishments because they’re not too flash, they’re comfortable, and the food’s bloody good. That’s the Box Tree. Traditional, solid, and divided into little serving rooms where the staff will drop the odd bon mot while sweeping the crumbs off the tablecloth. “Smart dress preferred.” Your mum would like it. But there’s a lot more to it than that.

That’s the Box Tree. Traditional, solid, and divided into little serving rooms where the staff will drop the odd bon mot while sweeping the crumbs off the tablecloth. “Smart dress preferred.” Your mum would like it

It’s been on the go for 50 years now – forever in the Good Food Guide – but more importantly the couple that own it have introduced local staff and modern flourishes from the kitchen (“without foam” says the owner), while also keeping up the standards that made it great in the first place. A solid supply chain of reputable quality farmers and producers, a stunning wholesaler, and a front of house that can explain what the folks in the kitchen are up to. We wouldn’t hesitate to visit such a place in rural France, why not Yorkshire?

I had a set three course lunch for £30 (plus a couple of glasses of wine), kicking off with smart wee amuse-bouche, home made breads and the Box Tree’s own churned butter.

The starter was a thing of beauty – a perfectly crisped and sculpted hen’s egg, the yolk suitably soft, poised above a small plate of smoked haddock in a Dijon mustardy soup, a French tweak away from cullen skink, the famous Scottish dish.

The main was something quite special, roasted pork belly served with buttered spinach – a smooth emulsion with no texture but plenty of taste – and pomme purée loaded with butter a la Joël Robuchon, although possibly not the fully decadent 50/50 mix. It was a smart, metropolitan presentation: a perfect rectangle, cut by the world’s sharpest knife – Stanley-esque I’d call it – the top a crunchy crackling, the layers of meat substantial rather than melting, but with an intense flavour, backed by a little jus. It was twice the size of any portion I’ve had in London. Not huge, just bigger, with a punchy, satisfyingly meaty flavour. Posh, but substantial.

Detecting and following an English thread through all of this, I skipped cheese in favour of a peach and almond soufflé – perfectly risen, crunchy round the outside, soft and melting inside, with an invasion of almond sauce, we’ll call it. God it tasted good, seriously good.

The wines included a soft and fruity Pinot Noir from the Languedoc, a St Desir 2012, selected from a list which starts quite reasonably on planet Earth and ascends to a locked door marked “Romanée-Conti” – where you have to give a week’s notice for a bottle of Burgundy’s finest, held in bond, then shell out a four figure sum for the privilege..

Seems Yorkshire’s already well invaded by the French. Bon. C

The Box Tree, 35-37 Church Street, Ilkley, West Yorkshire LS29 9DR, UK
01943 608484; theboxtree.co.uk