White Horse & Griffin, The

Whitby, for me, always conjures up a community hanging on to the steep slopes leading down to the grey North Sea, but well populated with Yorkshire good cheer. Inspection of the menu is encouraging - anywhere that offers a Power Breakfast has to be on the right track, and that's before you even start thinking about the local kippers, Buck's fizz and Bloody Mary's.

Eating at this splendid place is not for the faint-hearted; punches are not pulled, even if the excellent local ales are. I can imagine that discussions with management about cuisine would engender a robust response, along the lines of "but it's all food". And all food it most certainly is; no wonder it's always full.

Look out for beef carpaccio with a caperberry and Reggiano dressing, or mixed cheese terrine with mulled pear salad and a walnut salad. Game in season is never in short supply, and an excellent range of steaks starts with a carpetbagger, with oysters or scallops. But it would be a foolish man who ignored what are referred to as the fishy mains contains a bouillabaisse, packed with the catch of the day, and Quinnie's (don't ask) locally caught lobster, prepared either Thermidor, Mediterranean, Lemon mayo or Newburg.

Puds offer poached pears with pot au chocolat and pistachio biscotti, or perhaps a delicious apple and Armagnac prune crumble, with crème anglaise, finished with a spiced caramel glaze.

Everything has about it a freshness that is convincing. If this kind of food was to be offered in London at the same prices, with allowances made, it would be mobbed.