"I'm Not Really a Fan of Nostalgia and Storytelling": A conversation with Head Chef Chris Archer, Pentonbridge Inn
- James Massoud

- 19 minutes ago
- 5 min read
In the quiet borderlands of Cumbria, far from the noise of Britain’s major dining cities, Chris Archer has helped transform Pentonbridge Inn into one of the country’s most respected destination restaurants. As head chef of the Michelin starred inn, Archer champions exceptional local produce, a fiercely consistent approach to cooking and a philosophy built on authenticity rather than culinary theatrics.
In this conversation with The Knife, he discusses life in rural Cumbria, the pressures of Michelin recognition, why great hospitality starts with the right people, and why he’s wary of the storytelling trend that has come to define so many modern tasting-menu experiences.
How do you turn a seemingly remote location into an advantage rather than a limitation?
For me, having a remote location is an advantage. It can feel hard in the beginning, but for a fine dining/destination restaurant, being remote adds to the story.
It also means you can really target the audience you want because you don't have to pander to the 'existing' customer base or local footfall.
What do you hope guests feel in the moment they arrive for the first time?
I still remember driving the road to Pentonbridge for the first time myself, thinking where is it? It must be here somewhere, and then it just appears. You take a look at the view, the fields and the hills, and then you walk inside and instantly feel at home. I want all my guests to have that same feeling.
You’ve worked in some serious kitchens before leading your own brigade. Which lessons from those earlier chapters still shape the way you cook today?
Theres's way too many lessons to count, every day you are learning something new (cliche I know), but it's true. However, if I had to pick one that I tell myself more than any other, it's probably a lesson I was taught before I actually became a chef. Treat others how you want to be treated. It can be a difficult one to execute consistently because kitchens are hard environments, but I always say to myself, 'Would I want to work for me now, when I was younger?' Thankfully, more often than not, I think I would!
Michelin recognition often changes how a restaurant is perceived from the outside. Internally, how did winning that star change you, the team, or the standards you set yourselves?
I'm a pretty humble guy (most of the time), and when I became a 'Michelin star' chef for the first time, I was almost embarrassed to tell people when the topic of what I do for a living came up. 'Oh, I'm just a chef.' I think the standards we set have always been high, but it drives you to be more consistent and work harder because the fear of losing is worse than the fear of never having won.
Cumbria has become one of the UK’s most exciting food regions. What is it about the county that makes it such fertile ground for great cooking?
I think Cumbria is having its moment in the Michelin sun, so to speak, that's for sure. As to why, it's multi-faceted. We have some of the best produce in the country, obviously, but also it's a great place to live, and that's a big draw for bringing talented chefs to the area. And of course, success breeds success. Other restaurants doing well make the rest of us want to do better. We have a 3 Michelin starred restaurant in the shape of L’Enclume and loads of one stars, I think all of them are pushing to become the next 2 star place.
Pentonbridge Inn has access to produce from the restored walled garden at nearby Netherby Hall. How does having that relationship with the land influence the way you build menus and think seasonally?
I think it's the same as for anyone else who has the privilege of a kitchen garden, in that you just have a deeper knowledge of when things are available and when they are at their best. Buying veg from a supplier will be consistent, but you will never have the highs of quality you get when you are growing your own. It makes you work harder to capture and enhance that product when it's at its absolute best.
Your cooking has been described as "modern British". What does modern British food mean to you?
I think modern British is just an umbrella term for chefs of a certain era who like to cook a mixture of everything. Whether that's a bit of French, Italian, British, or even Asian. And that's what I love about British food, we can take fantastic raw materials and apply flavours from all around the world. I do think we have the most diverse eating habits.
In smaller destination restaurants, every cover matters and every guest experience is personal. How do you balance Michelin-level precision with the warmth people hope for from an inn?
I think that's all down to the people we have in our team. Warmth cannot be taught; you need to find the right people and then teach them Michelin-level precision. You can’t fake it!
Are there flavours, dishes or family meals from your own life that still find their way onto the plate in one form or another?
I'm not really a big fan of nostalgia and 'storytelling' in restaurants. It's all a bit too gimmicky for me, and people then tend to look for a story where there isn't one, and the whole experience loses its authenticity. However, there's always an exception. The signature dessert that I've been cooking for over 10 years (fig parfait with pistachio and green tea) always reminds me of eating fig rolls at my grandad's house as a kid. The flavour of the parfait is identical to a fig roll. But that is just a happy coincidence. It wasn't the motivator behind creating the dish, so I don't tell people, unless they ask!
Do you think about pacing or surprise across a full menu journey?
I think surprise is a big thing in restaurants at this level. I like to keep descriptions short so people don't fully know what to expect until they are eating it. I'm a big fan of under sell, over deliver!
What do you look for when bringing people into your team?
This is another cliche, but it's a good attitude and an ability to listen. If someone has both those things, I know they will succeed in my kitchen. The best chefs I've had have been the ones with the least experience, because they grow the most. Someone who already thinks they can do everything isn't going to learn anything from me, which is kind of the opposite point to why they came to work at PBI in the first place. Give me those young and hungry, and I'll make them great.
If someone drives up to Pentonbridge Inn five years from now, what would you love them to say on the journey home about the place you’ve built there?
Well, hopefully I'll still be here in five years! And I'd hope they have been visiting us consistently since I first started. But I think the biggest compliment they could give is that we've constantly improved, never rested on our laurels and always stayed true to who we want to be. I try not to follow trends for the sake of it, but I don't want to be doing the same things in five years that we were five years ago.







