GOURMET evenings at the Farmer's Boy were always memorable occasions.

Back then, in the mists of time, Friday nights were a time to savour.

It was on Fridays, around 9 o’clock, that landlady Christine would unveil her famed culinary creation.

Pie and mushy peas was her signature dish, the speciality of the house, each pea individually pricked and served in a soup bowl, with a garnish of mint or brown sauce – or both – according to taste, to be washed down with a foaming pint of landlord Gordon’s finest hand-pulled Bass Charrington’s bitter.

I distinctly recall introducing my wife-to-be to the delights of the Farmer’s and those legendary Friday night bowls of pie and mushy peas.

Her reaction was not at all what I expected.

Not being from these parts, she found the whole Friday night ritual hugely amusing. She just laughed at us, and still gets a fit of the giggles when she re-tells the tale of her "initiation".

Pie and peas in a bowl!

How uncouth.

They didn’t do that sort of thing in Derbyshire.

The Farmer’s Boy is a legendary hostelry. A true ale house – it did not have a spirits licence until more recent times

The stories of the place abound, of its locals, all village characters, who used to congregate in the kitchen and sup ale poured from flagons drawn straight from the wood.

Last week we made a nostalgic return.

The pub has changed little from how I remember it in the pie ’n’ peas days.

The distinctive fireplace, the serving hatch into the ‘snug’ and then through to the converted old barn.

The Farmer’s Boy was until relatively recently a working farm, a smallholding with land bordering on to Jenkyn Lane and the barn had a practical use.

Nowadays it is the venue for fine dining and that’s fine with a capital F.

My reunion with the Farmer’s Boy turned out to be an inspired choice and our friends from the far side of Sheffield were hugely impressed. Well worth the 50 mile round trip, they thought.

We had booked in on the Thursday night and it is a measure of the popularity of the place that we took up the very last of the parking slots in the sizeable car park.

After a drink at the bar and a chat with some of the many familiar faces, we were shown to a table for four in a back corner of the atmospheric stone and wood clad building which was formally known as the Old Barn, but which now simply the Farmer’s Boy.

The evening was one of surprises, the first of which was being served ‘pre-starters’ in the form of delicious home-made assorted breads with green olives and ornate pats of a selection of spiced butter.

Then came our starters. Three of us opted for the Farmer’s Boy sardines on toast – pan fried sardine fillets served with a roast plum tomato sauce and garden pesto. Our fourth order was for chestnut mushrooms, oven baked with port, oregano and Yorkshire blue cream.

Friend Barry declared that his starter gave a whole new meaning to the concept of sardines on toast. They were simply the best he’d ever tasted. We couldn’t disagree, although, apparently, the mushrooms too were a delight. They certainly looked good and the portions were most generous.

I made a pioneering choice of main course, going for the surf and turf in the form of oven roast monkfish fillet served with garden pea, clams and homemade smoked chorizo sausage broth. It was a truly memorable gastronomic sensation.

One of my fellow diners opted for the beer-battered haddock with ham hock, mushy peas, tartare sauce and hand-cut chips. As with the mushrooms which she had chosen for starters, the portions were sizeable, a veritable whale some might say, but apparently delicious.

Wife Carol went for the vegetarian option – the ricotta, spinach, roast red pepper and courgette canelloni topped with melted Taleggio and served with dressed rocket and parmesan salad. Again the portion was lavish and the dish met with suitable approval.

The fourth choice was the free range guinea fowl breast, stuffed with lemon and thyme served with roast tomato and fresh herb pappardelle.

"You’re so lucky to have restaurants like this on your doorstep," said friend Barry.

"Yes, but you live in a big city, you’re spoilt for choice," I replied.

"Nothing as good as this though," came his reply.

The fact that the restaurant was completely full on a Thursday night in the middle of the traditional Huddersfield holiday fortnight was a lasting tribute to the quality of fine dining at the Farmer’s Boy restaurant.

The whole meal was a delight and the friendly, efficient service just added the finishing touch to a memorable gourmet experience.

Delicious as they were in their time, the Farmer’s Boy has come a long way from the pie ’n’ peas days, but the good news is that the Farmer’s Boy meat and potato pie, under short crust pastry and served with mushy peas, pickled red cabbage and HP sauce is still on skilled chef Darren Milner’s menu .

But I don't think you get it in a bowl nowadays.