I went to The Three Fishes in Mitton on a rainy Sunday. Rainy Sundays clearly put me in a cooking mood too; earlier I tried my hand at a Lancashire hotpot at home—here’s how it went.
Mud on my boots. Cold fingers. Big grin. You know what? That wood smoke smell by the door felt like a hug. I sat near the log burner, and I didn’t want to leave. I’d scribbled plenty of notes during my visit, and if you fancy the fuller tale you can read my complete, warm-bellied review of The Three Fishes.
If you want to see today’s menu, check opening hours, or book a table, hop over to The Three Fishes' official website before you set off.
First look, quick feelings
It’s rustic but neat. Stone floors, big tables, lots of light. Staff wore denim aprons and smiles that didn’t feel fake. The bar had real cask pumps. I got a half of Bowland Hen Harrier. Clean pint, good head, citrus and hay. My friend had a rhubarb spritz—soft, tart, very spring.
There’s a kitchen garden right outside. I like when a place grows its own stuff. It says, “We care.” And it looked cared for. Rows of chard and a few stubborn leeks waving in the wind. The whole scene took me back to a week spent roaming Lancashire that smelled of sea air and warm pies.
The food I actually ate
We did the lunch tasting. Five courses. Short menu. Seasonal. No fluff.
- Warm sourdough with cultured butter: The crust cracked just right. Butter was cool and salty and kind of nutty. I could’ve eaten a loaf, honestly.
- Garden salad with fresh cheese: Not just leaves. Little herbs, soft curds, a bright herb oil, and a sharp pickled onion that woke me up. It tasted like the garden smelled.
- Morecambe Bay shrimp on a crumpet: Winner. Brown butter. Lemon. Sweet shrimp. Spongey crumpet. I nodded to myself like a goof.
- Goosnargh chicken over coals: Juicy, with a barley risotto under it. Wild garlic pesto on the side. The smoke was gentle, not “campfire in your mouth.” A side of charred hispi cabbage was good but a bit salty for me.
- Parkin with roasted rhubarb and ginger custard: Sticky, warm, and proud. The rhubarb was bright and soft. The custard had just enough heat. This felt like home food, but polished.
All the while I kept thinking about comforting, hearth-side dishes—like a proper Lancashire hotpot that once hugged me back on a freezing night—and how this kitchen could probably nail one too.
We shared a Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire cheese plate too. Crumbly, tangy, and clean. Warm oatcakes. A little apple jelly. Simple and right. If you’re as smitten with crumbly curds as I am, you might enjoy this ode to Lancashire cheese.
Coffee at the end came lukewarm. They swapped it fast with no fuss. The second cup was hot and bold.
Service and small stumbles
Service was warm and quick with answers. Our server, Ellie, knew where the chicken came from and how the barley was cooked. She didn’t talk like a script. I like that.
One long pause, though. We waited around 25 minutes between the chicken and the parkin. I didn’t mind much—I was people-watching—but my friend got fidgety. A big table near us got loud for a bit too. Pub energy happens.
Little things that matter
- Parking is on gravel. Wear proper shoes if it’s wet.
- There’s a step at the door. Staff were keen to help a couple with a pram.
- Signal was patchy for me. The Wi-Fi worked fine.
- The loos were spotless, with hooks for coats. Bless them.
While I’m on the subject of connectivity, I know plenty of diners who love snapping every plate (and, let’s be honest, sometimes exchange more daring shots in private). If that sounds familiar, you might appreciate the no-nonsense privacy advice over at Nude Snap, where you’ll pick up smart tips on keeping personal photos safe when you’re uploading over flaky pub Wi-Fi.
For others, a great weekend away doesn’t necessarily end when the bill is paid; if your travels ever carry you across the pond to North Dakota’s capital and you’re curious about the local after-hours scene, the thorough listings on AdultLook Bismarck can help you scope out entertainment options, read community reviews, and vet providers long before you arrive.
Drinks worth your time
- Cask ale was looked after. My half pint was fresh. If you like beer, get one.
- The by-the-glass wine list felt thoughtful, not silly. I had a crisp English white with the chicken. It played nice with the smoke.
- I didn’t spot a Lancashire hot pot on the day’s menu, but if that’s what you’re craving, here’s my cozy, crispy-top crush to tide you over.
- For a foolproof way to make your own, the step-by-step Lancashire hotpot recipe on BBC Good Food is a comforting place to start.
Price and value
Not cheap. Not wild either. It felt fair for the skill, care, and local stuff. The lunch set felt like the sweet spot. A service charge was added, and the team earned it.
What I loved
- That shrimp crumpet. I’d come back for it.
- Bread and butter. Simple joy.
- The garden salad—tiny herbs that tasted alive.
- Parkin with rhubarb. Memory on a plate.
- Staff who know their food and also know when to leave you alone.
What didn’t hit the mark
- The salty cabbage side.
- The long gap before dessert.
- The first coffee being lukewarm.
Tips if you go
- Book for weekends; it filled up fast.
- Ask for a table near the garden windows if you like light.
- Bring a layer if you sit near the door; it can draft when busy.
- Walk the Ribble after. Then come back for a pint. That’s a good day.
Final word from a full, happy person
The Three Fishes cooks like it cares—about the land, the season, and your plate. It’s modern but not fussy. I left warm, fed, and a bit smug. Would I go again? Yes. I’d bring my parents and my appetite. And I’d order that shrimp crumpet first.