Vegetables, cooked like they matter.
Everything on the menu comes from three farms within thirty miles, and nothing on it is pretending to be meat.
The menu is written by the calendar.
When something comes into season it goes on the menu that week, and when it is over it comes off. September is squash, the last tomatoes and the first leeks.
Lit column: this month. Pale: in season. From our three farms, not a supplier’s catalogue.
Fire, fermentation, and a lot of sauce.
Over the fire
Carrots, squash and cabbage charred over wood until they taste of themselves, only more.
Green sauces
Herbs from the farm every morning, into salsas and oils that go on everything.
Pickled and fermented
Summer’s gluts in jars, so February still has something sharp and bright.
A table in the glasshouse.
Lunch from twelve, dinner from six. Tell us about allergies when you book and the kitchen will plan around them.
Bring someone who says they do not like vegetables.
It is our favourite kind of table. The menu changes weekly with whatever the farms send, so there is always something new.