Jeremy Clarkson’s revolt against the super-priced gastro pub – despite everyone advising against it

Prepare for top beer, get ready for the grand pour: Jeremy Clarkson is opening a pub. Having been thwarted by West Oxfordshire District Council in his attempts to open a more traditional restaurant at his farm, Diddly Squat, the presenter has taken an ancient rural-celebrity path and bought a pub instead. 

Clarkson, 64, has taken over The Windmill in Asthall Leigh, just outside Burford in west Oxfordshire, an old pub which stands on five acres of land. He announced the news over the weekend, revealing that he had paid “less than £1 million” for the premises, after a lengthy search. 

“I’ve bought a pub, even though everyone advised against it,” he added. “It’s about 20 mins away from the [Diddly Squat] shop, with staggering views.” Among the tragic dead pigs and charming yokels, Clarkson’s pub is surely set to be a large part of the next series of Clarkson’s Farm, if not its own series.

This well-heeled corner of the Cotswolds has no shortage of bougie options for those who want restaurant-quality food and hotel-standard accommodation in buildings that look – if you squint – a bit like pubs. 

The Bamford empire, which radiates from its fragrant headquarters at Daylesford, has several, including the Three Horseshoes and The Fox at Oddington. Range Rovers jostle with Porsches for parking space; a burger is 20 quid. At the time of writing, a room for two for two nights at The Fox, July 26-28, will set you back £836 (£1,036 if you want breakfast). At the Double Red Duke, down the road in Clanfield, a main course of duck with beetroot and ginger purée is £48. These places are reassuringly expensive, designed to coax the London expats from their luxurious lairs, or Soho Farmhouse.  

By the sound of things, Clarkson is planning a counterpoint: a more traditional boozer. Although it has been used as a wedding venue, the pub does not have rooms. He says he hopes it will serve produce from Diddly Squat as well as pints of his Hawkstone Lager, which is brewed nearby. He knows he has a struggle ahead. 

“[As] I’ve been told time and time again, people just don’t go to country pubs any more,” he writes. “I think there are good reasons for that. Some have three locals at the bar who stare at you when you walk in, and some are full of octogenarians complaining that the carrots haven’t been cooked for long enough before going home at 8.30pm. Fun is in short supply, and fun is what I want to put back. There will be bar billiards, there will be darts and in the garden there will be Aunt Sally, although I’m not entirely certain what Aunt Sally is.”

While Clarkson has not been specific about his plans, he says it is likely the pub might not reopen until next year. Its website says it has closed and that those with bookings will be contacted individually. But locals say he has made a shrewd purchase for what he has in mind. 

“It has always been a bit of an odd pub,” says Ryan Humphrey, former co-owner of The Carpenters Arms, another nearby pub. “It sits on this roundabout with no obvious entrance, and signs out front saying carvery and wedding venue. Nobody I know has ever been up there. But it has gorgeous views; it’s a beautiful spot. It was crying out for someone to do something proper with. It’s a great venue for him to have bought.” He adds that Clarkson is a popular local figure and was good for business at the Carpenters.

“He’s got the more down-to-earth, forget the Soho Farmhouse bunch, let’s get the Joe Public in to drink and have a good time attitude,” he says. “I get the vibe that’s what his pub is going to be, which I think is a great thing.” 

It is easier said than done. The dream of a cosy rural pub, where charming locals will mingle with red-cheeked visitors for pints and delicious but simple meals, is one of the country’s most enduring visions: a kind of idyll of Albion. These premises embody hospitality as convivial patriotism: it is not just that only Britain does country pubs, it is also that country pubs could only be in Britain. Countless entrepreneurs have been drawn to them; many have crashed on the jagged rocks of reality. To make a go of such a place, a landlord must contend with unreliable suppliers, tiny alcohol margins and strict drink-driving laws. Above all, with a nightmarish post-Brexit staffing situation. It is no wonder other publicans say Clarkson has an almighty challenge on his hands. 

“My instant reaction was ‘ugh’, because it’s a bit insulting that Clarkson could think he could just rock up and do it,” says Dan Brod, co-founder of the Beckford Group, which has four pubs across Wiltshire and Somerset, as well as two restaurants in Bath. “Because it’s a bit insulting to think you could just rock up and do it. But my second reaction was that it could be good for country pubs because it could show how difficult they are to run, and how the public needs to support them. 

“It ain’t easy,” he adds. “It’s probably the hardest time in history to run a country pub. Everyone thinks Covid must have been hard, but it’s much harder now. It’s not just electricity – it’s minimum wages, food, everything. The costs have gone up much more than we have been able to put our prices up. Clarkson will attract thousands of people because of who he is, but you have still got to serve those people at a markup. You could serve a million people but if you serve them all at a loss you’ll lose a million times.” 

Brod, too, is keen that his venues remain pubs, which he defines as somewhere you can “go in for a drink with a dog and muddy boots and not feel uncomfortable”. All the same, having decent food and rooms is an important part of the mix, especially further out from London than the Range Rover-dense Cotswolds around Diddly Squat. “It’s not necessarily the proper countryside there; it’s a manicured artificial countryside full of hedge funders and second homes,” he says. “It’s a different thing. Where we are it’s much more about looking after the locals, that’s number one, and then it’s about having the mix. Having rooms is good because it means you have a certain number of base customers for keeping the kitchen open, especially when it’s not the middle of summer.” 

For their part, the Daylesford team also believe they are playing their part in an ancient tradition, and that there is plenty of business around for everyone. “These pubs have always been here, we’re not building new places, we’re renovating existing pubs that have been here for centuries,” says Nathan Walker-Unwin, a general manager at Daylesford Stays. “I don’t think there is a limit. If someone can transform these old pubs into something that can continue for a further hundred-odd years or more, why would you not want to rebirth them?” 

The overall picture is less rosy. Statistics have shown that almost one in four pubs in the UK have closed since 2001, while Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) has said that 30 close per week. “There’s a lot of talk about pubs closing,” Brod says. “It’s sad, because it’s jobs and livelihoods, but often they should close because they are crap. You’ve got to be good and innovate and keep changing with the times. The Cotswolds in particular is full of pubs that are not really pubs. They’re not complete vanity projects, but they don’t need to earn money like a proper pub does. It’s not necessarily wrong, because different pubs can attract different types of people, but it doesn’t feel like it’s applicable to the UK.” 

Brod is not alone in warning Clarkson he has a job on his hands. “It’s very, very difficult operating a pub,” Tom Kerridge, who was the first chef to win two Michelin stars for his pub, The Hand and Flowers, in Marlow, told ITV. “Even if it’s busy and packed on a Saturday night, the profit margin is very, very small, particularly when you’re a wet-led (drink-led) pub.

“It’s going to be very difficult,” he added. “I’m very pleased that Jeremy’s taken that on because what he did for British farming, he showed actually how difficult it was and how hard it was to make it work.”

For an example to follow, he could do worse than look at The Bull in Charlbury. Routinely ranked among the country’s best places to eat, it is firmly on the restaurant end of the spectrum, but you can still dip in for a pint. There, they pride themselves on using non-British ingredients only where there is no alternative. 

If Clarkson needs advice on his new venture, he need not look far either. His colleague James May partly owns the Royal Oak in Swallowcliffe, in Wiltshire. But earlier this year May admitted that his businesses depended on food. “We are a restaurant, if I’m honest,” he told the Mail. “‘Pubs cannot compete with supermarkets when it comes to the price of beer. I think it is staggering that it’s at least a fiver a pint. Petrol is cheaper.” 

Not every celebrity pub has come good. Piers Morgan, Clarkson’s old sparring partner, had a short-lived venture at the Hansom Cab in Kensington. He does not wish Clarkson good luck. 

 “I wish Jeremy the same thing he would wish me in any new business venture,” he says. “Abject, ignominious, reputation-shredding, wallet-emptying failure.” 

Where new old-fashioned, “wet-led” boozers work, they tend to be in built-up areas, where patrons can have a session without worrying about getting behind the wheel. “Good luck to Jeremy Clarkson but personally I’m glad to be sticking to pints and packets of crisps,” says author and food expert Max Halley. After finding success in north London with Max’s Sandwich Shop, during Covid Halley moved out to the West of England, where he has opened a string of popular old-fashioned watering holes in Salisbury and Bath. While you might find a sausage or a bag of crisps, there is nothing gastro about them, but he concedes this is an urban privilege. “I think if people have to drive there and you don’t do food, you’re in a pickle, booze-wise,” he adds. 

Clarkson has not announced an opening date for his new project, nor a name. At the weekend he said he thought he might need the rest of the year to get it up to scratch. But he will be doing pubs in the Cotswolds and beyond a favour if he can repeat the trick he pulled off in Clarkson’s Farm: making a success of a venture by showing how hard it is to make a success of it.