Written by the morning, cooked by night
The menus shift with the beds, so what follows is a guide rather than a promise. On any given evening we cook what came in cool that morning, and little more.
The Harvest Menu
One seasonal journey for the whole table, drawn from the beds we picked that morning.
Vine tomatoes carried in at dawn, dressed with green oil and basil cut two rows away.
A whole young cabbage cooked slow over embers and brushed with its own roasting juices.
Sweet peas steamed in the pod, opened at the table over cultured butter and mint.
A handful of tender herbs over fresh curd, set while still warm from the morning milk.
Beetroot buried in the coals until soft, peeled at the pass and finished with aged honey.
Late squash roasted in its skin, spooned over toasted seeds and a little smoked oil.
Espaliered plums warmed by the fire, served with cream skimmed that same afternoon.
From the Beds
Single plates to order, each built around one thing at its peak.
Crisp cucumber pressed with verbena and a splash of fermented whey.
Hispi cabbage scorched over wood, dressed with young garlic from the spring beds.
The earliest potatoes baked in ash, cracked open over herb oil and sea salt.
Shelled broad beans warmed in stock, lifted with lovage grown by the door.
Carrots roasted whole and pressed into a juice reduced down to a dark glaze.
Whatever the cold frame gives that day, wilted gently in cultured butter.
Cellar and Pours
Low intervention bottles and garden infusions, by the glass or the flight.
A cloudy, textured white from a small grower up the coast.
Light red poured chilled, all bramble and crushed herbs.
Hot infusion of lemon verbena and fennel tops, caffeine free.
House soda built on a honey ferment and pressed cucumber.
A sharp, green aperitif drawn from tomato leaf and citrus.
Three pours chosen by the table for the night, mock pairing.
Tell us about allergies and the things you avoid when you book. The kitchen plans around the garden, and around you.