The Walnut Club, Hathersage, Derbyshire

Please don't think I'm some sort of slavering Jean-Christophe Novelli stalker, even if I confess I followed the trail of the Mr Darcy of chefs all the way to Hathersage. It really was because I'd got wind of a J-C disciple bringing the Novelli effect to the Peak District outside Sheffield. I almost convinced myself I was passing through.

There was no doubt we'd come to the right place, as we picked up the scent of truffle oil, that old seducer's trick and a very Novelli characteristic, the minute we arrived at the Walnut Club. If you can turn a blind eye to his looks, Hell's Kitchen devilment and free hand with the musky fungi flavouring, Novelli's intense interpretation of French food is dazzling and original. And when a few years ago, in an earlier phase of Novelli mania, he had an empire of seven restaurants, Nicholas Wilson headed the kitchens of two of them. So, since this protegé signed to the Walnut Club in May, to offer "West End contemporary cooking meets Peak District organic lifestyle" it has been setting out its stall as a Michelin star-seeker. Hubristic perhaps, but you have to admire the ambition.

A vast Veuve Clicquot umbrella outside the stone building in the market square also signals its aspirations. But the Walnut Club has broken out of the good taste forcefield of country house chintz and tablecloths around Chatsworth. It looks and sounds (jazz soundtrack ceding to Frank Sinatra later) like a wine bar, and it is open from breakfast, through a brasserie-ish lunch to a big deal dinner. There's a £47.50 five-courses and coffee tasting menu, and a vegetarian version for £42.50. Also, comfortingly for vegetarians, we're not convinced that the banquettes are real leather.

I'm a little suspicious of some of its claims. It says all its dishes use wild and organic, local and seasonal produce. Well, king prawns aren't local and asparagus is in season somewhere in the world but not in the north of England. There are occasional problems with scale and proportion. I almost took out the maître d's eye with a corner of the huge, stiff menu. A carte with such an air of permanence suggests that, though some harvests last only a few weeks, the restaurant's seasons last long enough to justify the printing costs. Main courses came on plates so large they overlapped the edge of the table, dwarfing the tiny side plates provided for the terrific thick wedges of flavoured bread, brought after our starters and only when we asked for it.

A menu that runs to 18 meat, fish and vegetarian main courses could suggest over-reaching ambition, and a few things raised that critic's dilemma: is it reasonable to order dishes you don't like the sound of? A sense of honour ruled out marinated tomato filled with crab meat dressed with asparagus and crisp apple with sundried tomato essence. Fair play paid off beautifully with quail and rabbit terrine with fig jam, and a pan-fried terrine of artichokes and ratte potatoes with Gruyère. Both very Novelli-like, beautifully and robustly made and so boldly flavoured (J-C uses salt in biblical quantities) they left a satisfyingly lasting, savoury impression. The plates were pointlessly decorated with more balsamic dots and dashes than the Morse code alphabet, but by the time we'd finished only a few traces of the syrupy pattern showed they'd ever been covered with food.

There were Novelli hallmarks stamped all over the massive, multifaceted plate of British game - pigeon breast with creamed buckwheat, a glazed and braised rabbit leg stuffed with vanilla risotto with a telltale trace of truffle oil, and two tender slabs of venison. A beautifully made seafood nage had prawns and scallops and a crèche-load of baby turnips and carrots, chervil and tiny pieces of tomato rather too literally swimming in the intensely creamy sauce. It's very rich food. "I feel a bit sick, but in a good way," said my fellow traveller.

He gave up at this stage, copping out with some petits fours, while I soldiered on with a Bakewell tart. This interpretation of the local delicacy, as a cliff of fluffy frangipane on raspberry jam and a perfect pastry base, was in a different league from the tourist-shop pastries.

I could be sniffy about the service. But this Novelli-tribute cooking smells and taste like the real deal.

The Walnut Club has broken out of the good taste forcefield of country house chintz

The Walnut Club, The Square, Main Road, Hathersage, Derbyshire (01433 651155)

Food
Ambience
Service
Dinner £90 for two, including wine

SIDE ORDERS: GROWN-UP ORGANIC

Mad Hatters

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Old Pines

The family-friendly place in the shadow of Ben Nevis can't guarantee a supply of fresh organics. But bread, cakes and puddings are baked with pesticide free flours, sugars and dried fruit.

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The Ritz Restaurant

The gloriously palatial dining room makes the greenest royal diners feel at home by having organic smoked salmon, sirloin steak, and rack of Welsh lamb (£36) among the exuberantly classical dishes.

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Yetman's

Ingredients don't travel far to this engagingly small restaurant. Typically, local mussels are poached in garlic, leeks and red onion from an organic market garden. Simply lovely.

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