Review of The Olde Bell Inn, by Nadia Latif

The Berkshire village of Hurley is about as picture-perfect as you can get from rural Middle England. Just a single twisting lane runs through it, the houses are red-brick and perfectly groomed, the gardens are brimming with rhodedendrons and hyacinths and there are two rickety little pubs within walking distance of each other. One of these, The Olde Bell Inn, has undergone something of a transformation by ELLE style-maverick Ilse Crawford. Stripped of its heavily patterened carpets and hunting prints, it is now a country-chic bolthole of the very highest order

The restaurant takes pride of place. With a menu lifted far beyond the expected gastropub fare, you're as likely to try 'spatchcocked squirrel' as to enjoy a pint of locally-brewed ale and rustic nibbles. The garden is peppered with Kidson-kitted children and labradors, as well as an open barbeque for lazy summer evenings. It's very popular with well-heeled locals, not only for the great food and drink, but also the tasteful mix of antiquated horse brasses, exposed wooden beams and contemporary English furnishings.

The pale, wattle-and-daubed walls and uneven floorboards speak of the Olde Bell's 12th-century roots. They form a perfect neutral base, and let the luxe fittings do all the talking. From rocking chairs and sheepskin throws, to king-size beds with Jakob's wool blankets, everything blends seamlessly. Flat-screen televisions hang unobtrusively on the walls, and the DAB radios are great (if you can get reception in this pocket of bucolic). The bathrooms are something else - rain-head showers, gorgeous Aesop toiletries and, in some cases, deep rolltop baths.