I’ll never forget the drive down to Little Stretton – we’d packed the car with enough cheese and crackers to last a siege, but halfway through Shropshire’s winding lanes, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a merry detour through some sheep-dotted backroad. Cue mild panic, a bit of map-scrolling on my phone, and me muttering about how my sense of direction is about as reliable as a chocolate teapot. But honestly, it was a blessing in disguise; those unexpected views of the hills had us grinning by the time we finally rolled up, buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation.

Pulling into the drive of this cosy two-storey lodge – an annexe tucked beside the owners’ place in the heart of the Shropshire Hills – we were smitten straight away. It’s got this inviting conservatory at the front, perfect for sinking into a chair with a cuppa and watching the world go by. Up the spiral stairs, the open-plan kitchen and dining area felt like our little love nest, kitted out with everything you’d need for a proper feast. First impressions? Spot on for a couple like us, keen to potter about and eat our way through the countryside.

Food was the star of the show from the off. We’d stopped at Church Stretton’s market on the way – just a mile and a half up the road – and loaded up on local treats: Shropshire Blue cheese that could knock your socks off, fresh pork pies, and a punnet of the juiciest strawberries I’ve ever tasted. That first evening, I fancied myself as a master chef, rustling up a romantic pasta with those strawberries chucked in for a twist (pro tip: don’t overdo the balsamic). It was a laugh – a bit gloopy, truth be told – but we scoffed it down in the conservatory as the sun dipped low, toasting with a bottle of local cider we’d grabbed too.

Next day, we wandered into Little Stretton’s pub, the cosy Ragleth Inn, for a ploughman’s that hit the spot after a gentle hill stroll. Proper Shropshire fare: hunks of cheddar, pickled onions, and bread still warm from the oven. I couldn’t resist the sticky toffee pudding after – pure indulgence. Back at the lodge, my other half took over cooking duties with a roast chicken using veg from Church Stretton’s farm shop. She nailed it, while I chopped carrots like a pro (or so I told myself). We even tried baking scones one rainy afternoon, inspired by a recipe scribbled on a market flyer. Mine came out more like hockey pucks, but slathered in clotted cream and jam, they were forgivable.

Reflecting on it now, that week was a gentle nudge to slow down – no fancy restaurants, just us, the markets, and pubs within a stone’s throw, feasting on simple, brilliant local grub. Church Stretton’s deli had us hooked too, with their homemade quiches and sausage rolls that vanished in a heartbeat. By the end, we’d eaten like kings, laughed at our kitchen disasters, and stumbled home a few pounds heavier but hearts full. If you’re after a foodie escape in Shropshire, this is the spot – just double-check your sat-nav first.