I cooked a Lancashire hot pot on a gray Sunday, when the rain hit the window like it meant it. If you’d like the quick low-down on where the dish comes from (and why it’s so beloved up north), the overview of a Lancashire hot pot is a neat little rabbit hole. Turns out I’m not alone—someone else cooked a Lancashire hotpot on a rainy Sunday too, and their notes pushed me to finally try it. Honest? It felt like a hug in a pan. One writer even dubbed it the “bowl that hugged me back”, which is exactly the vibe. Slow, simple, steady. And that potato lid goes all golden and crisp. My kids call it the “potato roof,” which cracks me up every time.
Why I wanted this dish
I grew up with stews, not this exact one. But a mate from Manchester swore by it. He said, “It’s proper tea,” and I had to see why. Plus, I had lamb neck fillet from Aldi sitting in the fridge, and a bag of Maris Piper potatoes giving me the side-eye. Waste not, right?
I also tried a pub version near Preston last winter. It was good, but a bit flat. The top was pale, and the lamb felt shy. If you want to see how the professionals elevate it, book a table at The Three Fishes in the Ribble Valley—a proper showcase of Lancashire comfort done right. So I wanted to make one that sang. Loud but warm. Like a good scarf.
What I used and how I cooked it
Here’s the thing: it’s not fancy. It just asks for time. (I also cross-checked my rough measurements against this rock-solid BBC Good Food recipe to be sure I wasn’t completely off-piste.)
- Lamb neck fillet, about 600g (I’ve also used lamb shoulder from Tesco—worked fine)
- 2 big onions, sliced
- 1 carrot, thin slices (I know some folks skip it; I like the sweetness)
- Maris Piper potatoes, about 1kg, sliced thin by hand
- Beef stock (Oxo cubes and hot water), a splash of Worcestershire sauce
- Butter for the top, salt, pepper, fresh thyme, and a bay leaf
I browned the lamb in my 24cm Staub Dutch oven. Not rushed. I wanted those brown bits on the bottom. That’s flavor. Then onions and carrot went in to soften. I stirred in the stock, thyme, bay, and a dash of Worcestershire. Back went the lamb.
Now the fun part: I shingled the potato slices on top. Tight little rows, like fish scales. Brushed on melted butter. Salt. Pepper. Into the oven at 160°C fan (about 325°F) for 2 hours with the lid on, then 30 to 40 minutes without the lid, so the top got crisp and lovely. I took it out, let it rest 15 minutes, and tried not to eat it straight from the pot.
Served it with pickled red cabbage and crusty bread. If you know, you know. That sharp crunch cuts through the rich gravy like a dream.
The first bite (and the day after)
The potatoes on top were crackly. If you’re also after that crackly, golden lid, this step-by-step on achieving a cozy, crispy-top Lancashire hot pot nails the technique. The ones under the top went silky, like they took a bath in gravy. The lamb fell apart with a spoon. No fuss. No chewing battle. It tasted deep and kind of sweet-savory, with a hint of onion and that cozy stock flavor. It smelled like Sunday.
You know what surprised me? It was even better the next day. The sauce thickened, and the potato edges were still crisp after a quick blast under the grill. I packed some in my little Pyrex for lunch, and yes, my coworker asked for a bite. I said no. I’m not a monster, but I worked for that.
Real wins
- The potato roof is everything: crisp on top, tender underneath
- Budget-friendly cut of lamb, but it feels special
- Easy steps, no fancy gear, just time and patience
- Leftovers taste deeper, like the flavors got to know each other
What bugged me a bit
- It takes time; you can’t rush it (I tried once—meh results)
- The top can go pale if you don’t brush butter or finish uncovered
- The house smells like lamb for a day (I opened a window; no regrets)
- Kids may pick at the fatty bits—mine did—so trim if you must
Little tips I wish I knew
- Slice potatoes thin and even. A mandoline helps, but I used a sharp Victorinox knife and it was fine.
- Don’t skip the rest after baking. It settles the sauce.
- If the top isn’t crisp, brush a touch more butter and give it 5 extra minutes.
- Want it richer? Add a tiny spoon of Marmite to the stock. Sounds odd. Works.
- If you’re going veggie for a friend, I’ve made a mushroom and barley version with the same potato top. Not classic, but it hit the spot.
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How it stacks up against the pub version
My home pot had more body and a better crust. The pub bowl was faster, sure, and nice on a cold night, but it leaned thin and light on seasoning. At home, I could salt layer by layer and get that deep, stick-to-the-spoon gravy.
Who it’s for
- Folks who like “set it and forget it,” slow cooking
- Families that want one pot and few dishes
- Anyone who loves a crisp potato moment
- People who plan for leftovers (this makes killer lunches)
A tiny contradiction
I thought it would be too heavy. It can be. But the pickled red cabbage and the crisp top balance it. So it feels hearty, not leaden. That surprised me, and I liked it.
Would I make it again?
Yes. I’ve made it three times this year—rainy Sundays, a midweek snow, and even for a small birthday tea for my aunt. It felt homey every time. It’s not flashy. It’s steady. And sometimes steady is exactly what you want.
If you make it, save me a corner with the extra-crispy potato slices. I’ll trade you bread for it.