Restaurant Review

The Devon Doorway

2 Telegraph Road, Heswall, Wirral, CH60 2SA

By Robin Brown | Gastropub | ££ |

When I was a nipper, my parents would whisk me off to the countryside or the coast most Easters. My father possessed an unbeatable mental map of every pub in the North East and the Yorkshire Dales, and we would drop in as if by divine providence. The Mad Dog, The Green Man and The George & Dragon: names to conjure with. Inside, we’d find pies, meat and fish dishes made from scratch by a cook using local provisions. A proper cook in every kitchen; ‘real’ food. On any given day, there were likely a thousand people across Great Britain hand-crimping steak and kidney pies. It stirs the soul.

In 1990, there were 60,000 pubs in the UK; today, that figure has nearly halved. Moreover, the ‘managed’ houses like Greene King and JD Wetherspoon now account for over half the market. There is likely one within a mile of you right now serving a pie that has journeyed from freezer chest to microwave, its pastry crust unmolested by human hands. The food is passable, the sort of thing you’d drop £14 on without a second thought.

I remember the pubs I entered as a fearful whelp in the late ’80s: toilets you’d expect to see in a horror flick, waiting two hours for sausage and chips at The Ramside in 1985 and, famously, a man being assaulted with a coconut at the New Inn one long, hot summer. Yet, there was also an abundance of seasonal and locally sourced food. Run those keywords through a search engine today and you’re likely to find a website using the word ‘deconstructed’ near a price tag you’d mistake for a typo. Somewhere along the way, however, there are happy mediums.

Which brings me to The Devon Doorway in Heswall, a ‘premium’ Mitchells & Butlers site. Its website promises ‘fine country pub dining’. While it is certainly a cut above the average managed house, it isn’t quite fine dining, nor is it meaningfully a ‘country’ pub despite its astonishing thatched roof and ancient timbers. However, the chefs here are permitted their own flourishes and daily specials. Refreshingly, there are no pizzas, no dirty fries and only a solitary Wagyu burger.

The menu leans toward duck breast, heritage tomato tatin and lemon sole. Pleasingly there is a pie of the day. It is good, old-fashioned fare elevated by a sensible injection of modern British and European influence. I opted for the scallops (£14.50) followed by a substantial hunk of cod with ’nduja and butter beans (£24.50). The portions were generous and well-executed, though the seasoning in some dishes felt as if it had been handled by a glitching TikTok robot. A smarter deployment of salt and acid would have made these plates sing rather than bawl or whisper. The starters were strong, particularly the unctuous pulled pork croquettes, while desserts like the sticky toffee pudding and chocolate cake were well-pitched at a tenner or less.

There were puzzles, though, chiefly a heroically baffling salad accompanying the children’s meal. If your six-year-old willingly scarfs down chicory, bulgur wheat and watercress, I would like to shake your hand. We eventually cleared the £180 mark for two adults and two children aged six and one. We ate well and we enjoyed almost all of it.

The Devon Doorway might not be my natural habitat. I’ll happily suffer a wonky table and a grumpy landlord for a sense of original character – the thrill of stumbling across an independent pub with a cantankerous alcoholic wielding offal in the kitchen is what gets me in the car. But I am a creature of habit, much like the regulars in Heswall, who are clearly grateful for this peculiar slice of Devon on their doorstep. For the vast majority of people, a happy medium is exactly what they’re looking for.

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