THE Nags Head has a strong reputation for its carvery – but what happens when that shuts and you’re hungry?

We found that out when we arrived at the landmark Ainley Top pub shortly before 9pm on a Thursday evening.

“We’re just shutting,” said the staff as we walked towards the welcoming feel of the carvery. “But you can eat in the pub.”

Which we did.

It’s still a favourite among drinkers and empty seats weren’t plentiful except near the back door where the heating was struggling to cope with yet another barmy cold June night.

The Nags Head used to overlook the M62 until a Premier Inn was built in the car park and instantly became an ideal sight and sound barrier.

It’s still olde worlde inside, retaining most of its distinctive features and sense of being there ‘forever’.

The menu in the bar is very similar to the carvery, ranging from burgers to game casserole and from spinach, butternut squash and goats cheese lasagne to black pudding stuffed chicken breast served on a bubble and squeak cake.

Food has to be ordered from the bar and paid for in advance unless you set up a tab for the evening with a swipe of your debit card.

Our starters were pan-fried Spanish chorizo sausage along with potted pork, chicken liver and real ale pate.

And we were off to a flier with the chorizo unusually cut in slices, giving them a different texture and served with a large chunk of bread. Simple yet spicely effective. The pate was a rich country affair packed with taste.

Ruth chose pan-fried chicken breast filled with cheddar and wrapped in bacon with a smoky bourbon sauce while our other main was slow cooked lamb shank smothered in rich mint gravy.

You then had the option of mash or new potatoes and vegetables. We ordered mash with both.

Things then started to go somewhat awry.

The chicken was fine, the bacon was there but the cheese felt to be more a smattering than a filling. The mash was inexplicably replaced with new potatoes on Ruth’s dish and they were lukewarm at best. Her vegetables also seemed to have gone walkabout as they weren’t on the plate.

The lamb shank was fine – cooked just right and tender enough to fall off the bone without much persuasion. The mash had made it to this plate and was covered in gravy – neither these natural bedfellows could be described as light – but were as promised. The vegetables were disappointing. Plain boiled carrots that hadn’t suffered too long in the water and green beans that were pencil-thin – and we’re talking very thin pencils here – and, more worryingly, some were curling up at the ends. Perhaps Ruth was lucky to be bereft of the green and orange stuff.

We told the barman who had begun to double as the waiter about the cold potatoes. He promised to ‘let the chef know.’

We heard nothing more back from the kitchen which kind of summed up the service that was, let’s say, functional.

The puddings gave a chance of redemption and just about did it with the wild blueberry and raspberry Eton mess giving a real sense of summer and the Belgian chocolate and West Country clotted cream tart one more for the lovers of bitter chocolate than devotees of the sweeter stuff.

Next time we’ll endeavour to get there in time for the carvery especially as the children’s meals seemed good value for a fiver bringing it into the budget for larger families.