How brilliantly bonkers is Blagraves in Barnard Castle?

The hinges of the heavy wooden door from the stone flags of the street creak and groan like a Scooby Doo sound effect and visitors drop into a dark, panelled vestibule. On the door immediately in front is the skull of a roe deer with the word 'open' written on its forehead (it's tempting to add 'in blood' but that would be an exaggeration as it looked like a black Sharpie).

Opening as instructed, visitors find themselves in the low-ceilinged front room with a stuffed head of a large boar, its features frozen in a tusk-filled welcoming smile, staring straight at them.

It's hard to know where to look because Blagraves doubles as an old curiosity shop as well as a restaurant.

“Ooo, jewellery,” said my wife, Petra, getting distracted by a blingy torso as we were led to our table.

Blagraves is the oldest domestic building in Barnard Castle. In 1484, it was given by Richard III to Joan Forest, whose late husband had been the Keeper of the King’s Wardrobe and who had reputedly smothered the princes in the tower. In 1648, Oliver Cromwell slept upstairs when his army was camped on the demesne nearby (the wifi password is a variation of ‘cromwellwozhere’).

It has been an inn known as The Boar, the Shoulder of Mutton and the Bucket of Blood. More recently, for nearly 30 years, it was a highly regarded restaurant run by Elizabeth and Ken Marley. That closed before the pandemic, and Blagraves – named after the 16th Century family who lived there – fell dark.

Just a fortnight ago, it reopened as an interiors shop and restaurant, serving mezze/tapas style small plates which build into a gargantuan feast.

Once Petra had peeled herself away from the bling, we were led from the front room and its burning fire through the bar, out through a cold courtyard dominated by an ancient statue of Charles I, and back in to a large dining hall featuring a tall Elizabethan stone fireplace (below).

Uncluttered, the hall would have room for 30 or 40 diners, but instead it seats – well, it lounges, as most of the diners recline on low sofas or chaise lounges – about 15 because of the classical nick nacks scattered everywhere.

There’s a huge dresser crammed with pottery, and a vast table filled with anatomical models – heads of Greek gods, monkey candlesticks and amputated fists. Plus roe deer skulls (£19 each). There are roe deer skulls, mounted on little shields, everywhere.

The walls were lined with nature prints and phrenological drawings, and we dined beneath the detailed sketch of a moustachioed cadaver which had been trepanned so that his brain was exposed for medical instruction.

It was bonkers.

It was also cold – with the door to the courtyard being regularly opened, it was just bearable.

The menu was equally bonkers.

There’s no discernible theme as dishes range from Teesdale Doris to Spanish salami, although every single one of them sounded intriguing, and most of them had a little ping of an unexpected flavour to them.

From the fish menu we might have ordered the smoked mackerel and celeriac remouldade (£6.50) but instead chose the lime and chilli fish tacos (£8.50). From the meat section, I really fancied the red partridge pate (£7.50) but instead chose the most expensive item – the seared beef flat iron steak (£11.50). In the cheeses, Teesdale Doris was tempting but instead we chose the baked boxed camembert (£9.50), and all six of the vegetable dishes sounded good enough to eat but we whittled it down to the winter vegetable gratin (£6.50) and the green beans and tarragon (£5).

They all arrived at once, carried from the cold of the courtyard on trays.

Rather than a concentrated meat and two veg, we love this dip-in sort of a meal of many tastes.

The tacos (above) had a lovely white fish in mayonnaise with a slight touch of chilli (I would have liked a little more) and a fine splurge of lime. The slightly red steak was great, in a nice gravy, with a pile of eye-popping pickled peppers on top, which were a bit too much for me.

The Camembert (above) was creamy and piping hot. It was punctured with sprigs of rosemary and blistering cloves of garlic, and was served with fingers of sourdough toast. It was divine. There were not enough fingers of toast, so we ordered some extra bread which allowed me to scrape out every last morsel from the box.

Petra particularly liked the vegetable gratin (above), which included crunchy broccoli, large pieces of courgette and a gorgeous mush of leeks covered in a crumb and served in a lightly creamy sauce. For me, the seared beef (below) was good, nicely cooked in an understated sauce, although the sharp, pickled red peppers on top were probably a little too sharp.

On the first visit to a tapas bar it's always difficult to judge how many plates to order. Five dishes would have been ample between us. We’d ordered six but, in truth, neither of us was wowed by the cold green beans in tarragon, lemon and truffle oil (below). The beans themselves were fine, but the tarragon and lemon were just too bright and forthright.

For desserts, Blagraves has a selection of homemade cakes, and while Petra had a coffee – served with a meringue with an explosive centre – I had a really good coconut and chocolate pyramid (below). It was like a Bounty bar in cake form, and although 39 per cent of people apparently want Bounty miniatures 'banished' from chocolate collections, I found it a confection to celebrate.

As Blagraves is also a shop, we were encouraged to explore the fabulous building, looking at the items for sale. The first floor dining room was as cosy, thanks to its huge fireplace, as our hall had been chilly. Its low ceiling featured expansive plasterwork dated 1672 and a marvellous carved door, both original features, while on a wall was a series of decorative plates featuring nipples from famous paintings, which were probably not.

While Petra inspected the wallpaper books, I visited the toilet, which starred a stuffed fox above the nappy changing table (above), upturned deer hooves as towel holders (below) and an array of mounted skulls.

It was bonkers, absolutely bonkers.

Brilliantly bonkers.

We loved being among the centuries of history (the upper floor where Cromwell slept may soon be opened). We loved being among the quirky ornaments and adornments, and we loved the sharing food and all of its tastes and curiosities.

Our bill for two, including soft drinks, came to £57.45, for a hugely memorable evening. I would like to return for another Camembert and to try the red pheasant pate, although if I’m destined for the dining hall, I’ll take an additional jumper.

FOOD FACTS
Blagraves, 30-32 The Bank, Barnard Castle DL12 8PN
Website: blagraves.com
Tel: 01833 637668
Open: 10am-10pm, Mon to Sat

Ratings (out of ten)
Surroundings: 11
Service: 8
Food quality: 8
Value for money: 8