Restaurant review: Don't Tell The Duke, Wetherby, Leeds

For instance, the walls are adorned with bizarre pictures: a Maoist bull terrier, a walrus wearing war medals and a crowned flamingo done up like something from the court of Henry VIII.

The theme resonates throughout. Wander upstairs to the lavatory and you will find Lewis Carroll -inspired characters staring down at you and in amongst them one of those old blue RAC badges which motorists used to proudly display on the front of their cars.

It’s all a bit random, albeit deliberately so (if that makes sense). Nothing at all wrong with that and it seems to fit perfectly with what they’re trying to achieve. However, this sense of feeling untethered even extends to the ceiling of the aforementioned loo, which is raunchy enough to prompt embarrassing questions, especially if you happen to be escorting your nine-year-old son at the time, as I was. How so? Well, imagine wandering into a red telephone box in London in the late 90s and clocking a scatter of business cards for ‘ladies of the night’... it’s basically that. While it may be done in line drawings and probably wouldn’t be out of place in a modern gallery (you know, one of those self-reflective nods to modern culture which is both savage and worthy at the same time), it seems questionable here.

Moving on...

We have been to this establishment previously (when it was called Sir Duke’s) and I assumed the slight tweak of name, which happened six months or so ago, was the result of a change of ownership. Not so, apparently. According to their website, it was just that: a rebranding, perhaps to better reflect this sense of the slightly anarchic.

We called ahead, making the reservation the night before. The man on the other end of the line was accommodating and down to earth and sorted us a table out for noon on Father’s Day, when they were running a one-off menu (£28 for three courses). We arrived slightly before our booking and were invited to take a drink in the bar, which is toward the back of the restaurant and reminds one of an old taverna, with its tiled floor and chalkboard drinks lines (they have over 120 different spirits, 60 wines and 12 draught lines, including things like Eternal and Infinity Vortex from Northern Monk and Turbo Shandy from Ilkley Brewery. Two lime sodas (£1.80 each) for the kids were made with fresh cut mint and were superb, while a midday lager (Amstell, £4) never seems to go amiss.

Shortly thereafter, we were shown to our table, which turned out to be one of two booths. One point to note here: there’s not much room betwixt seat and table and I doubt anyone of rotund structure would even manage to squeeze in.

Food came in the form of lobster panipuri (their version of Indian street food and yet another example of this eclectic mindset). The lamb chops hit the mark, the fat rendered down perfectly, the panipuri was okay but seemed out of place to me on what is predominantly a red meat-led menu.

Mains were sirloin and a Sunday roast. The sirloin comes alone, however and while it’s a substantial piece of meat (done medium rare but the fat still too chewy for my liking), I had to order extras to go with it, which obviously upped the bill. So, there was triple cooked chips, which were so big they would put most roast potatoes to shame (£4.25), shredded leaks (£5.95) and onion rings (£3.95), none of which amazed, unfortunately.

Service was a little disjointed, with various people visiting our table and them at one point neglecting to realise we were without cutlery for our mains. Two other criticisms: while I was asked how I wanted my steak, no such preferences were offered for the Sunday lunch, which also came with steak. Meanwhile, the bacon-cheeseburger I ordered for my son (£8.95) was borderline rare.

There was also some slight disappointment during the dessert course. We ordered Eton mess, Jaffa ice-cream and some sugar waffles, the latter of which never materialised, the waiter explaining they were all out of waffles but doing so as the other dishes arrived. So, we ended up ordering sticky toffee pud and more ice-cream, which were £7.50 a throw rather than the £5.95 for the waffles. The final bill came to over £100 and there was a service charge on top of that. It may also benefit from a greater female presence on the staff, as our visit felt very male-dominated.

In summary, I actually like Don’t Tell The Duke. For its individuality and style and the fact they are daring to be different. Overall, the food is good, the ambience is just right and it sits well in Wetherby, which is almost country-gent territory. It’s certainly a place I’d recommend. Just, you know (...what I’m about to say)... Don’t Tell The Duke.

FACTFILE

Address: 6-8 Bank St, Wetherby LS22 6NQ

Opening times: Sunday-Wednesday 10am-11pm, Friday & Saturday 10am-midnight

Telephone: 01937 587897

Website: donttelltheduke.co.uk

Ratings:

Food ***

Value ***

Atmosphere ****

Service ****