The term ‘gastropub’ is thrown around too often and too willingly in my humble opinion. Once reserved for pubs and inns that had crossed the boundary from basket food and fish and chips, into the realms of truly exceptional cooking, today it seems anywhere that serves up a decent sirloin and offers more than five types of wine ‘per colour’, feels it can take on the mantle.
For me, these are misnomers. A ‘true’ gastropub isn’t one that wheels out the same formulaic menu with a frisson of luxurious ingredients for six to eight weeks at a time. It’s where the chefs really, truly care about what they’re putting on the plate, taking the time to source and respect local ingredients, lean into the seasons, cook as much as possible from scratch, and demonstrate innovation and technique.
MJP @ The Shepherds, in Fen Ditton (just a short drive from central Cambridge) ticked all the boxes when Mark Poynton (of Michelin-starred Caister Hall, formerly Alimentum), opened in 2020. The premises closed this spring, but emerged anew over the summer – Mark joined by business partners Emma and Gareth John in creating Ancient Shepherds.
 | The dining rooms are elegant, cosy and welcoming at Ancient Shepherds |
Their shared vision was to create somewhere that inspired food lovers, while remaining a destination the local community felt they could pop to for a drink and a bite to eat without breaking the bank. Excellent food and drink without the frippery and Insta-frills so many resort to for ‘likes’.
It’s a sweet historic building – formerly three 16th Century cottages - and sleepy Fen Ditton is just a hop from the A14.
From the car park, the scent of butter pervades the senses – the work of the pastry section laying an almost tangible, mouth-watering path for hungry diners.
Inside, the design is succinct but classic, split into a bar space, separated from two dining areas by a curtain which, when drawn, glimpses open fireplaces, simple marble-effect tabletops, low lighting and painted beams.
The kitchen is (bravely) open, giving a window straight into the hub of the operation where, on our visit, chef Chris Lee (who’s heading up the stoves with Mark) leads from the front. I’ve eaten Chris’s food multiple times at his previous locations, including The Bildeston Crown and Packhorse Inn at Moulton, so knew we were in for a treat.
Lunch is an incredibly reasonable £35 for three courses, including snacks and bread, with the option of a wine flight add-on at £30.
If you’re not feeling particularly ‘boozy’, you’ll be glad to hear there are plenty of no and low options across wine, beer, gin and cocktails. Our mocktail – Country Garden – was a great livener, being all spritzy with apple, elderflower and lemon.
Lunch begins with nibbles... and they’re exquisite. The highlight being a delicate, gossamer-thin croustade, layered with a boujie take on Coronation chicken, instead pairing lobster with a subtle curried emulsion, pickled mooli and apricot puree. The accompanying Assyrtiko was uplifting, bringing bags of zest, a hint of stone fruit, and a dry-ish finish that hinted at milk chocolate.
 | Lunch begins with nibbles - and they are exceptional |
After an amuse bouche of pumpkin espuma (the very essence of the gourd), a Marmitey glazed Japanese milk bun, designed to share and tear, landed on the table, shiny as a polished conker, and pert as a bottom. This is the kind of bread you tear (and then share) reluctantly, drawing an invisible line across your half to ensure you get what’s rightfully yours. Bouncy, buttery, sweet. Joy in dough form. We generously dosed every part with soft cultured butter from Fen Farm Dairy.
Even this masterpiece, though, was outshone by what could make it onto my top three dishes of the year (and there’s been a lot). Something that, on paper, really shouldn’t work, but does. Exceedingly so. The kitchen prepared a crisp tartlet, encasing silky, bosky, earthily rich mushroom parfait, cubes of espresso jelly, toasted hazelnut, pickled shimeji mushrooms, sesame seeds, chives and truffle shavings. Almost like a savoury, umami praline. Such clever, intriguing cooking.
The cured Chalk Stream trout that followed, with fennel, thick yoghurt, cucumber and dill oil, felt like a bit of a misstep afterwards. The fish had been cured perfectly, rendering the flesh toothsome, but more salt and a spritz of something sharp was needed to lift the bones of the dish. I really really enjoyed the Grillo that arrived with it, and recommend this if you’re not having the flight. You’ll get a ‘pow’ of sticky ripe quince on the nose, mellowing into honey and melon. It’s dreamy.
 | The glossy Japanese milk bread is almost too good to share |
Minervois – briny with olive, and sweet with bursts of plum and violet – was a match made in heaven with the ‘meat’ course of tender guinea fowl rolled around a jiggly piece of indulgent duck liver. It’s great to see the bird back on UK menus after a shortage over the last couple of years. Its gamey nature (almost like turkey) is infinitely more flavoursome than chicken, and makes some of the best stock going. Here it had been handled very well – especially the delightful confit leg – and the accompaniments of mushroom puree, cabbage and bacon and truffle cream sauce served to enhance, not overpower, the star of the show.
I’ll always be a fan of savoury dessert courses, and Ancient Shepherds’ Lancashire Bomb rarebit was a tongue-twistingly good, sharp, bitey little number, though the homemade crumpet underneath felt a tad dry, which was a shame. Kudos to the choice of Rivesaltes to go with it. Ooh, this is Christmas cake in a glass, with bags of dried fig and date. It’s one to buy for your festive table.
We ended on a supreme high of the chocolate variety. The kitchen’s elegant dark chocolate mousse cut no corners, being made the French (proper) way, showcasing a balanced cocoa flavour. The caramelly, snappy chocolate tuile was moreish. The banana/lime ice cream smooth as freshly spun silk. And the biggest surprise came in the form of dried frozen, cracked banana, which ate like a cross between honeycomb and one of those foam banana sweets we all used to love as kids (maybe you still do).
 | Expect pared back culinary flair, with an emphasis on doing ingredients justice |
Sticking around for (excellent) coffee, the treats kept on coming. Do not leave this place without sampling the petit fours, because they are out-of-this-world good, demonstrating so much skill. A bon bon brought the flavours of tarte tatin, with buttery caramel, apple and shortbread pieces. The chocolate fudge was dark as night, with a bitter chocolate bite. And as for the strawberry and pink peppercorn pate de fruits? Amazing.
As the nights continue to draw in, there’s nowhere we’d rather be than in a pub like this, warming ourselves from the inside out with good wine, nourishing ourselves with exceptional food, and hunkering down in a setting that feels cosy and special all at once.
The staff are brilliant too. Oh, and you can stay awhile in one of the five onsite rooms (where, spoiler, homemade chocolates are included).
Find out more and book here.
