Menu

A cup of the season's sweetest tomatoes, clarified down to clarity, served cold with a scatter of tiny basil leaves and a thick ribbon of green oil. Bread to soak up every drop.

Thin slices of duck we cured last month, laid across bright orange and purple carrots put down in vinegar and mustard seed. A handful of peppery watercress, a drizzle of walnut oil.

Creamy burrata torn open over charred spring onions, finished with broken pieces of fried sourdough and a single anchovy fillet. Simple, but that's the point.

A whole trout split down the spine, roasted until the skin is crackling and the flesh stays tender. Served alongside waxy new potatoes boiled in their skins, and a butter sauce made rich with tiny brown shrimp from the coast. Finish with a squeeze of lemon.

A slow-roasted short rib, so tender it falls from the bone, surrounded by whatever roots are coming this week — likely turnips, parsnips, and beetroot, all charred at the edges. The gravy gets its depth from roasted bone marrow, silky and dark.

Sweet corn and a tangle of green and yellow beans, bound in a light cream sauce and topped with breadcrumbs and cheese. Buried underneath are wild mushrooms we forage most weeks, earthy and meaty alongside all that sweetness.

A whole bird split in half and weighted down as it roasts — the skin crisps to nothing while the meat stays juicy. Served with a sharp, herbful salsa verde and a half of charred lemon and orange to squeeze over everything.

A cloud of meringue, still soft and marshmallowy in the centre, piled with whatever stone fruit's at its peak — apricots, peaches, plums — and their own juices. Thick cream and a whisper of fresh mint.

A small, deep pot of dark chocolate mousse, almost liquid at the centre, served warm. On top: roasted hazelnuts we've glossed with sugar and a pinch of fleur de sel, and a quenelle of mascarpone that melts into it.