The Brick Yard, Brighouse: 'Yorkshire newest hidden gem is a restaurant worth getting lost to find'

Not auspicious, but some of the best places are tucked away. They’re not called hidden gems for nothing.

The Moorcock at Norland, high on the moors above Sowerby Bridge, up winding one-car-width lanes and hopeless as soon as there was a frost got the attention of restaurant reviewers from all over the country, and my attention about once a fortnight.

Everyone knows now how to get to Tommy Banks’s Black Swan at Oldstead but before the Michelin people tipped up, none of us could find it. In Port Mulgrave (where?) too small even to call a hamlet is Restaurant 20.

Literally blink and you miss a top quality dining experience at the hands of Jason and Sue Davies – don’t take my word for it, take the Good Food Guide’s.

Recently I ‘found’ Finns Bakery – you might recall me gushing about precisely judged fish dishes, superb soup and perfect pastries – at ‘90s prices - on these pages.

It’s behind a retail park in the arse end of Guisborough with little or no signage but man it’s astonishing and always packed.

The Brick Yard is at the bottom end of what looks like a mini-trading estate (silly me, looking for a post-industrial building that might have been a brick factory) “Nah,” says owner Josh Stephenson-Williams when I quiz him.

“It was a double glazing showroom, but that didn’t really trip off the tongue.”

Josh and his husband Huw set up an events and catering business, The Grazing Guys, in Leeds during lockdown, and as the world opened up the business took off and they found themselves needing a bigger kitchen, they set their sights on Brighouse.

A year or so later when they were established they opened the restaurant.

“We had this great space and a massive kitchen, and thought we might as well make best use of both,” says Josh. “And since chef Sean McFarlane joined us from Rudding Park in March this year we’ve not looked back.”

Inauspicious it might look from outside, inside it’s a lofty, bright space with huge shimmering orbs hanging from high ceilings, scrubbed wood tables, a well-stocked bar at one end and cool tunes playing at just the right volume.

The small plates menu lands and in true style we order a fair number of them – we’re now all familiar with the likes of jamon croquettes, baked Queen scallops and spicy chicken thighs, but hang on – I’ve never seen wood pigeon Kiev with pickled blackberries or a crab taco with avocado crema before – and what’s this – tartiflette?

But first things first; ‘snacks’. Freshly baked focaccia, crispy roast spuds with harissa, feta and honey, or how about giant chilli corn?

All tempting but the main event reads so well we dive straight in with those croquettes (fabulous crust on them and the soft, silky cheese and ham inside making us go ‘ahhh’) followed quickly with a beautifully creamy burrata sitting on a pile of roast courgettes, with crispy capers for crunch and bite and a slick of winter kale pesto that has me wiping the plate with my finger.

Crab taco is a triumph, the sweet, fresh flesh holding its own and not being bullied by the poky slaw and lime – a riot of autumn colours too.

The next two plates are outstanding.

The tartiflette is just lovely, with artichoke, potato, raclette and pancetta, the skillet piping hot as it comes to the table, the top nicely crispy and going down a storm with a glass of red and I’m minded of time in a previous life spent up mountains pretending to ski, but actually just taking the lift up and lounging in Alpine sun drinking cocktails and eating fondue. Whoever thought this up as an activity was a genius. Drinking and skiing don’t mix at all.

The final plate is wood pigeon Kiev which more than any other dish gives away McFarlane’s Rudding Park history; fabulous depth of flavour, precise, text-book cooking of the bird and clever, well-thought-through textures and colours (the pickled brambles ooph … you’ll travel a fair distance to find a dish as consummate as this one.)

There are desserts. They look unremarkable in print (boozy tiramisu, millionaire mess yada yada) but who isn’t going to order Crack Pie when it appears on a menu? Not me. It looks innocent enough, but the first bite into it and a celestial choir of angels burst into song.

Soft but with a slightly crunchy top, it’s gooey, buttery, salty sweet, and undeniably moreish. It’s not called Crack Pie for nothing.

It turns out that they ‘borrowed’ the recipe from the famous Milk Bar in Manhattan on a recent visit, and Huw’s years as pastry chef at the Hilton in Sydney wasn’t time wasted. An excellent toffee apple bread & butter pudding was brought to the table too, for balance, you understand.

An hour has gone by and the room’s filled up and there’s a lively vibe going, as if a party is on the point of breaking out.

If you could bottle it you’d be rich. It’s a gift to be able to pull a room together like this – some folk have it, many don’t.

It helps of course that McFarlane is sending out fabulous food, and maybe all the years at the hospitality coalface the Stephenson-Williams’ have put in are paying off.

Whatever; The Brick Yard is worth getting lost trying to find.

Welcome 5/5

Food 5/5

Atmosphere 5/5

Prices 5/5

Plates around £12 each, bottle of wine £31

The Brick Yard, Unit 10, 370 Bradford Road, Brighouse HD6 4DJ www.thebrickyardbrighouse.co.uk