The views are magnificent – nowhere more so than from the car park of The Shoulder of Mutton. By day you can take in a panoramic patchwork of fields, and by night the distant twinkling lights of Teesside and beyond.

The downside is that on a windy day you might struggle to stand upright. The Shoulder of Mutton sensibly forgoes the option of facing into the view and, instead,hunches its back against the westerlies that come blustering down the valley.

Yorkshire pubs don’t come much more traditional than this, and The Shoulder,which started life in the 18th century, ticks all the boxes: massive stone walls, hefty oak beams, cheery log fires, busy carpet, horse tack. There’s more space inside than you might imagine from the modest frontage, and behind the front bar lies a big barn of a restaurant area that could easily accommodate several large parties. And – surprisingly, for a place that feels well off the beaten track – it’s full to bursting by mid-evening.

The secret of The Shoulder’s success seems to be that they have managed a clever balancing act, keeping the locals onside whilst drawing in diners from further afield. Plenty of places purport to offer a warm welcome, but The Shoulder makes good on that promise. The bar staff were genuinely friendly, and so were the folk from the village who had popped in for a pint and a bar snack. They were clearly very proud of their pub, and delighted to share it with visitors.

Nestled at our neat little table, we tucked into our generously proportioned starters. Mine was a squat tower of smoked haddock and crushed new potatoes topped with a perfectly poached egg. With a sprinkling of chopped spring onions giving a satisfying crunch to the fish and potato mix – and a rich, creamy sauce studded with flat-leaf parsley introducing a measure of luxury – this one earned an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Piers had chosen a warm salad of kidneys, bacon and mushrooms. Plenty of beguiling flavours here, given a kickup the backside by lashings of black pepper. There was a substantial handful of grapes too – an unexpected and unadvertised addition – but anything that helps you clock up your five-a-day can’t be bad.

On to mains, which in my case consisted of breast of Gressingham duck with pear and apple chutney – and, just in case we were feeling short-changed on the fruit front, an artistically sliced plum. The vibrant tang of apple is certainlya plausible pairing for a rich meat like duck, but in this case I wondered if all the fruit was a bit overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, it was a decent plateful – but the duck itself needed a bit of a boost.

Piers’ venison, though, was bang on the money. Melting, gamey meat, nicely seasoned and judiciously cooked. Plenty of it, too. It came with a good wad of black pudding mash and an uncontroversial mushroom and shallot sauce. Good, hearty, satisfying grub, and perfect for an unseasonably chilly night. Our side vegetables, a selection of four or five different elements, arrived on individual side plates – another nice touch.

Since fruit seemed to be the keynote of the evening, I decided not to fight against it and ordered a ‘tropical fruitsalad’. It seems that – and this may come as a surprise to Scottish growers – raspberries and strawberries are tropical fruit. Plums too, for that matter. But hey, who cares, it was a pleasant enough bowlful, bumped up to a whole new level by a delicious mango sorbet. And frankly, after starters and mains of such gargantuan proportions, fruit and sorbet were the only things I could have fitted in.

My new husband, enterprising to the last, opted for sticky toffee pudding. A splendid one it was too, soft and aromatic, with a plump dollop of double cream and a luscious toffeesauce. More sauce wouldn’t have gone amiss, said Piers, but possibly that was sheer greed speaking.

So where did that leave us? Very happy, actually. We had downed some jolly decent food, served with clockwork precision by a friendly team of black-clad ladies, in a relaxing, cosy environment. If you wanted to show a foreign guest what makes English pubs special, you would bring them here. This is the real thing – and a welcome antidote to all those identikit ‘dining pubs’. Check it out.