L’Enclume

Cavendish St

Cartmel, Grange-over-Sands, UK

www.lenclume.co.uk

+44 15395 36362 

BY NEAL MARTIN | MARCH 20, 2026

The Food:

Toasted seed, salted mackerel and fermented gooseberry tart, juice-infused woodruff

Fritter of Duroc pig and smoked eel, lovage and fermented sweetcorn 

Corra Linn pudding caramelised in birch sap, stout vinegar reduction and aged Corra Linn

Preserved Red Baron onions with raw Shorthorn beef dressed in coal oil, Passandra cucumber and lemon thyme

Ibis celeriac roasted in yeast oil; Buttermilk sauce and smoked pike perch roe

Confit of red King Edward potatoes cooked with pickled Primor garlic, Cornish steamed crab and lemon verbena

Fuseau artichoke purée, crosnes, Welsh truffle and tarragon oil, chestnut with Doddington cheese, fermented pear purée

Langoustine tail, braised pulses, Duncan cabbage, fennel pollen and smoked kombu stock

English mushrooms with seaweed custard, sugar kelp, braised tendons and bone marrow

Monkfish with aged pork, winter brassicas, savoury and cuttlefish

Texel hogget loin, Musselburgh leeks, nasturtium and anise hyssop purée

Frozen Tunsworth cheese, malt crumb, jostaberries and lemon thyme jelly

Poached blackcurrants in pineapple sage-leaf syrup and rose geranium cream, Wraysholme yoghurt, meadowsweet 

“Anvil” caramel mousse with miso, caramelised apple and spruce

Crown Prince squash, pine cone, miso tart and Kendal mint stones

The Wines:

2012 Willi Schaefer Riesling Graacher Domprobst Kabinett	96
2017 Domaine Duroché Gevrey-Chambertin Lavaut Saint-Jacques 1er Cru	94

“London’s three-starred restaurants are not at the same level as those in France…” That remark, courtesy of one of the UK’s leading restaurant critics, raised a few indignant eyebrows. Discussing the subject with that critic, Andy Hayler, at Ploussard just a few days later, I felt our judgments might diverge because his criteria are restricted to what he finds on the plate, not least with respect to sourcing ingredients and constructing dishes from scratch. I have no problem with that militant stance; it mirrors my approach to wine insofar that what matters most is what’s in your glass. However, for Vinous Table, I take a more holistic view and consider the experience between entering and exiting a restaurant’s doors. It is this that guides my glowing sentiments towards L’Enclume.

Hampshire-born chef Simon Rogan opened L’Enclume with partner Penny Tapsell in 2002 in Cartmel, up in the Lake District, where Peter Rabbit and William Wordsworth take Wainwright walks. Cartmel is a picture-postcard village. Indeed, those making the schlep should leave a couple of hours free to admire its unspoiled charm. Located in what had served as the village forge since 1243, L’Enclume is named after the French word for “anvil.” Upping sticks to this touristic yet remote part of rural England was fraught with risk. Cartmel was no culinary destination. It was known for its sticky toffee pudding that incidentally still draws the sweet-toothed masses. Back then, most acclaimed restaurants clustered either in or within the ambit of London, drawn to where the money was (and is). The fact that none of those hifalutin’ restaurants can escape, even to this day, is quite surprising given that their deluxe kitchens lie far from where the finest ingredients grow, sprout, moo or baa. 

L’Enclume was a prescient forerunner of farm-to-table dining. Its reputation grew over time in parallel with Rogan’s standing as an uncompromising chef. Aside from the odd TV appearance, Rogan never sought celebrity status like Messrs. Ramsay or Blumenthal. Awarded its first Michelin star in 2005, a second in 2013 and a third in 2022, L’Enclume nevertheless had its ups and downs along the way. But over the last two decades, this corner of England has become an epicurean destination. Another three-star restaurant, Moor Hall, is not far away. Gourmands could easily tick off six stars in a single weekend, eight if they included the offshoot one-star restaurants situated just a five-minute walk away from each. Rogan’s empire now stretches to London, Hong Kong and Thailand. Yet Cartmel is where it all began and where his farm, uninspiringly named “Our Farm,” provides the ingredients that form the basis for many dishes. Alex Rothnie, who previously served as senior sous chef, is now head chef at L’Enclume.

Readers should note that the menu changes with the season throughout the year—this menu is from mid-February. 2026 L’Enclume currently offers a 15-course tasting menu priced at £265 that is due to increase to £275 in April. Not inexpensive, though that is on par with three-starred The Ledbury and Core by Clare Smyth in London. Examining the respective menus, L’Enclume offers far more courses. There is also a £125 lunch menu that represents outstanding value, given the quality. I was tempted, but hey, I had travelled 280 miles and who knows when I would be back. Might as well go for the full experience. No regrets making that decision.

L'Enclume’s facade is very discreet. You could easily walk past. It belies the fact that the restaurant occupies three of four adjoining outbuildings. Hang around and you see chefs darting in a flash of white(s) from one to another, poring over a wooden box of vegetables or carrying a reduced sauce to another station. The former blacksmith reeks of history with its medieval, whitewashed walls that could repel canon-fire and black-painted oak beams that remind me of Osip. Scandi-style circular tables are widely spaced with a handful of nooks utilising the original layout. One cutaway from an interior coal-grey-painted wall is home to an anvil that presumably came with the fixtures and fittings.

Natural light floods into the rear, which looks over the private lawn and babbling River Eea. The kitchen is housed on one side and is surprisingly smaller than expected. Of course, planning restrictions for an 800-year-old building are extremely strict, but the workstations seem cosy, not cramped. On a Friday at lunchtime, there was a palpable relaxed ambiance, much more than you find in the rarefied interior of an equivalent starred restaurant in the capital. L’Enclume is free of airs and graces, augured by a dress code that simply advises customers to come attired in whatever is comfortable. My freshly ironed shirt remained in the suitcase.

This is an occasion where I feel the cooking is best described pictorially. For once, at a time when many restaurants covet gloomy interiors and lighting so subdued you need a miner’s headlamp, there were decent spotlights overhead, so I could take better photographs on my iPhone. I’ve added brief descriptions to each. 

Toasted seed, salted mackerel and fermented gooseberry tart, juice-infused woodruff.

The first canapé of toasted seed, salted mackerel and fermented gooseberry tart accompanied by a small clay jug of juice-infused woodruff was a work of art.

Fritter of Duroc pig and smoked eel, lovage and fermented sweetcorn.

The light-as-a-feather fritter of Duroc pig and smoked eel was served with an onion tapioca. We were advised to use our hands and mop up the lovage emulsion with said fritter, which was easier said than done.

Corra Linn pudding caramelised in birch sap, stout vinegar reduction and aged Corra Linn. 

The Corra Linn pudding was caramelised in birch sap with stout vinegar reduction and generously sprinkled with aged grated Corra Linn. Surprisingly sweet for a canapé, but it was offset by the nuanced tang of the cheese.

Preserved Red Baron onions with raw Shorthorn beef dressed in coal oil, Passandra cucumber and lemon thyme.

The preserved Red Baron onions with raw Shorthorn beef came dressed in coal oil with fermented and pressed Passandra cucumber and lemon thyme. The problem with this dish was that henceforth, all onions will seem flavourless.

Ibis celeriac roasted in yeast oil. Buttermilk sauce and smoked pike perch roe.

The Ibis celeriac was roasted in yeast oil, with yeast pouring over the buttermilk and smoked pike perch roe sauce. It was not the flashiest dish, but definitely one of the best. I have never tasted celeriac like this. Breathtaking! 

Confit of red King Edward potatoes cooked with pickled Primor garlic, Cornish steamed crab and lemon verbena.

The confit of red King Edward potatoes cooked with pickled Primor garlic, Cornish steamed crab and lemon verbena came with a potato emulsion and a crisp potato nest. This was warm and comforting, a mixture of textures from a humble ingredient. 

Fuseau artichoke purée, crosnes and Welsh truffle and tarragon oil, chestnut with Doddington cheese and fermented pear purée.

Fuseau artichoke purée and crosnes (Japanese artichokes) came with Welsh truffle and tarragon oil, chestnut with Doddington cheese, and a fermented pear purée. The artichokes were stunning, unlike your common garden variety. These came with a side of pumpernickel bread and caramelised onion butter that, to be honest, was a bit superfluous. 

Langoustine tail, braised pulses, Duncan cabbage, fennel pollen and smoked kombu stock.

The langoustine tail was sourced from Gairloch in Scotland, served with last summer’s braised pulses, Duncan cabbage, crispy chicken skin, fennel pollen, a split pea purée and a smoked kombu stock. Divine. 

English mushrooms with seaweed custard, sugar kelp, braised tendons and bone marrow.

This was Rogan’s take on Japanese chawanmushi, with thinly sliced oyster mushrooms, seaweed custard, maitake jam, sugar kelp, braised tendons and bone marrow. It did not quite gel like the other dishes, the tendons a bit out of place. I would have preferred a touch less saltiness.

Monkfish with aged pork, winter brassicas, savoury and cuttlefish.

The monkfish came from England’s West Coast. It was served with aged pork that had been brined for 12 hours, winter brassicas, seaweed and koji oil, and Cornwall cuttle fish that was served raw and glazed in pork fat. Perhaps again, just a touch on the salty side? 

Texel hogget loin, Musselburgh leeks, nasturtium and anise hyssop purée.

The loin of hogget (a one-year-old sheep, so between lamb and mutton) was from the Texel breed reared on Gaisgill Row Farm. It was presented whole before being roasted on the bone. Served with sensational tiny Musselburgh leeks, nasturtium and anise hyssop purée, pickled capers and a brown butter/miso emulsion, the portion was small but so packed with flavour that it was more than sufficient. The side of melt-in-your-mouth brioche buns was fabulous. 

Frozen Tunsworth cheese, malt crumb, jostaberries and lemon thyme jelly.

The frozen Tunsworth cheese dish was my favourite dish at L’Enclumm, adorned with a malt crumb, jostaberries (new one for me, too) and a lemon thyme jelly. It was a combination of the coldness, crumbly texture and umami that I found arresting and most memorable.

Poached blackcurrants in pineapple sage leaf syrup and rose geranium cream, Wraysholme yoghurt, meadowsweet.

The colourful dish of poached blackcurrants in pineapple sage-leaf syrup and rose geranium cream was served with Wraysholme yoghurt and meadowsweet, the mousse offering an underlying nuttiness. Again, the balance of this dish was perfect. 

"Anvil” caramel mousse with miso, caramelised apple and spruce.

The anvil-embossed caramel mousse was made from miso, caramelised diced apple and spruce. Small but glorious.

Crown Prince squash, pine cone, miso tart and Kendal mint stones.

A light-handed finish comes in the form of miniature cones of Crown Prince squash that had to be eaten before they melted, miso tart and Kendal mint stones. The bowl contained two stones you could eat, and the rest were just…stones. Fortunately, to avoid cracked teeth, the waiter advised that the lighter-shaded ones were the edible ones. 

Perusing L’Enclume’s wine list and then conversing with our sommelier, I was interested to discover that instead of listing reams of vintages from single producers, their policy is to select one wine from each winemaker. In other words, the list is wide rather than deep. Mark-ups are what you would expect from a restaurant at this level, but definitely not outrageous. There is a commendable selection of wines from South Africa and Germany. Refreshingly, unlike many esteemed establishments, L’Enclume is very amenable to corkage and charges £50 per bottle, perfectly acceptable on the proviso that our sommelier could drink some himself and share remnants with staff. Sommelier service was exemplary from start to finish. How encouraging to find that all staff are given basic wine education courtesy of a local MW, Rebecca Gibb…

The name rings a bell.

I brought two wines. The 2012 Willi Schaefer Riesling Graacher Domprobst Kabinett comes from one of my favourite winemakers, sadly no longer with us. I expected greatness. I got more. Clear with a green tinge, the 2012 is textbook Riesling on the nose, youthful and vibrant with spine-tingling delineation, hints of linseed and lemon thyme, perhaps a background scent of green olive. The palate is light on its feet, tensile with perfect acidity, with a nuance of Clementine on the slightly petrolly finish. Wow. This is everything I want in a bottle of Mosel. 

From there, we moved to the 2017 Gevrey-Chambertin Lavaut Saint-Jacques 1er Cru from Domaine Duroché, as this vintage is drinking well young. That said, I was surprised by the fruit concentration on the nose that manifested with a couple of hours of decanting, which is mandatory apropos Pierre Duroché’s wines. Fragrant redcurrant and white-tipped strawberries, rose petal and potpourri—these aromas are all delivered with fine delineation and purity. The palate likewise is denser than expected for a ‘17 Pinot Noir born in one of the Côte de Nuits’ cooler microclimates. Lithe tannins and an appealing rondeur build towards the velvety finish. This is drinking beautifully now but perhaps has more “legs” than I originally anticipated.

So, what does constitute a three-star restaurant? Perhaps L’Enclume did not have the faultlessness of my memorable lunch at Moor Hall four years ago, perhaps the greatest that I have experienced on these shores. That is only because a couple of dishes at L’Enclume were a touch salty, and, this must be said, the tempo of dishes departing the kitchen could have slowed down a tad. Yet under my own criteria, it was a three-star experience because I factor in food, service and ambiance. Put me on record as saying that this was the best service of any restaurant that I can remember. The twenty-something brigade never put a foot wrong. Throughout, they were friendly and attentive, never overbearing and clearly working together like a well-oiled machine. There was an infectious feeling of the staff doing what they love, and that seeped into our dining experience.

Any gastronome visiting the UK must venture to Lancashire or Cumbria to experience its culinary heights, notwithstanding the stunning scenery. Chatting to the taxi driver en route back to Ambleside, he told us that he always enjoys dropping customers off at L’Enclume. “If you have to wait, a member of staff comes out and gives you something to eat so that customers don’t feel pressured to finish their meal”. 

Going beyond what is necessary. 

Three stars in my book.

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