The Farmer's Dog

The farming loyalty that changes everything

If you’ve watched Clarkson’s Farm, you’ll have seen the seed of this place being planted. But there’s more to it than the TV could ever capture. What you walk into is a full ecosystem of agricultural loyalty — the food on your plate is British, the beer in your glass is Hawkstone (brewed with Cotswold water and English hops), the produce comes from the land around you. The Diddly Squat farm shop sits alongside the pub, and the butcher and bottle shop — Hops & Chops — means you can take the whole philosophy home with you.

This isn’t a theme. This is a commitment.

Every ingredient on that all-British menu represents a local farmer, a local supplier, someone who woke up at 5am in the cold to tend to livestock or harvest crops. When you pay your bill here, that money feeds back into the agricultural chain that most pubs have long since abandoned in favour of cheaper imported alternatives.

Here’s the question that never gets asked: what if every pub in Britain did this? What if every landlord demanded locally sourced meat, British-grown produce, regionally brewed beer? Every pub in the country would have to put prices up — because doing things properly costs more. The fact that most don’t isn’t something to celebrate. It’s something to be ashamed of. The Farmer’s Dog is showing the industry what integrity looks like, and some people have the audacity to leave a one-star review about the cost of a steak.

The team

Walk in, and within five minutes you understand this isn’t a corporate machine with high staff turnover and a laminated training manual. The team here feel like they belong here. There’s a warmth and a genuine pride in what they’re serving and why they’re serving it. It’s the kind of atmosphere that’s closer to a family gathering than a hospitality shift — the sort of ease and connection you only get when the staff actually believe in the place they work. That’s rare. Genuinely rare. Treat them accordingly.

The beer

Hawkstone. Don’t overthink it — just order one. The Premium Lager is clean and crisp, the IPA has a proper bitter finish, and if you can find the Black on tap, that smooth, full-bodied pour will ruin you for mass-produced stout forever. This is what British brewing looks like when someone takes it seriously, and having it on the pump here rather than some fizzy multinational lager is another deliberate, principled choice that deserves recognition.

The garden

Step outside and you’re reminded that this pub exists within something far bigger than four walls and a bar. The outdoor space breathes countryside air — big sky, open Cotswolds landscape, the kind of garden where you can sit with a pint of Hawkstone and genuinely feel the connection to the land the whole place is built around. Take your four-legged friend, find a bench, and slow down. It’s worth every second.

The verdict

Go to The Farmer’s Dog not despite the prices, but because of what those prices mean. You’re not just buying a meal and a drink. You’re voting for British farming, for local staffing, for authentic hospitality, for a model of what the British pub could be if we all demanded better. Jeremy Clarkson has done something legitimately important here — built a place where the agricultural community is celebrated rather than quietly stripped out of the supply chain to save a few pence.

If this place inspires even one pub owner in Britain to rethink where they’re sourcing their food, then it will have been worth every penny — yours included.