The best restaurants to eat game
Published 07 November 2024

‘We have been going for over 13 years and it never fails to delight’ is just one testament to the consistently high standards achieved by chef-patron Laurie Gear and his wife Jacqueline over more than two decades at the Artichoke. The plaudits continue, but this attractive, classy little operation on Old Amersham’s main street refuses to stand still. A recent refurbishment has introduced an artichoke colour scheme (as in ‘globe’, not plebeian ‘Jerusalem’) and an etched-resin screen that can be drawn open to reveal the kitchen. This allows diners near the inglenook fireplace – there’s also a private dining room on the first floor – a prime opportunity to watch the chefs patiently creating the components for the various tasting and set menus. Lunch might begin with an appetising cupful of foamy parsnip velouté enhanced by a dainty dollop of truffle cream, both main flavours clear and true. Bread (a miniature loaf of warm wholemeal laced with Chiltern Black Ale) and starters are of equal calibre: lightly smoked trout matched with pungent horseradish cream, rye bread crisps and salty bursts of trout roe, for instance, or a roundel of tender local pork belly, its fat luscious, its accompaniments (cubes of fresh apple, sliced fennel, marigold leaves) adding complementary textural and flavour dimensions. Seasonality suffuses the oft-changing repertoire, so a springtime main course of braised lamb shoulder shares the plate with white asparagus, springy fresh morels, herb couscous (large grains, resembling petits pois) and a wild garlic pesto – the dish made still more mouth-watering with outstanding gravy and a garnish of precisely cooked sweetbreads. Tip-top ingredients are treated with care and skill – witness skrei cod (the salty fillet brilliant white and succulent) with earthy Jersey Royals and plump mussels providing admirable support. The best dessert at inspection was a perfectly wrought passion-fruit soufflé, the zesty fruit also enlivening an accompanying scoop of ice cream. ‘Extremely well-drilled’ staff ensure a meal here is thoughtfully paced, while a knowledgeable sommelier administers the highly impressive wine list. France, Italy and the fruits of the Rothschild vineyards are the strengths, but the collection also ranges from Uruguay to Croatia and Corsica. Even the entry-point glasses (including an Armenian red and an Austrian Riesling) hold ample interest and flavour. The main drawback? Everything at the Artichoke is ‘rather pricey’, but Amersham regulars mind not a jot.

Here we have a little haven of French provincial cooking amid the bustle of Borough Market, a neat, simply dressed bistro with candles on the tables and a menu featuring pâté en croûte, grilled ox heart with Café de Paris butter, and a daily line-up of blackboard specials. Clare Lattin and Tom Hill cut their teeth at London’s Ducksoup, then moved on to osteria Emilia in Devon, so they have serious chops when it comes to running restaurants. There’s nothing quite like the buzz in here when the place is full, with upbeat service adding to the all-round joie de vivre.

The kitchen is run by Elliot Hashtroudi, who takes due account of seasonal British produce for a series of delicious French vignettes where each plate is allowed to shine in its own right. We kicked off with a snack of smoked eel served atop curried devilled eggs, before tackling a starter of white crabmeat perfectly matched with a barattiere melon and cucumber emulsion, heritage tomatoes and a melon granita. For the main course, the richness of a superb Welsh pork schnitzel (crisp on the outside, juicy on the inside) was offset by a salad of greengage and crispy pig's ear – although a combo of octopus, pig's trotter and bacon looked equally intriguing. 

To finish, we were taken by the peach tart and the canelé with lemon curd, but finally settled for a rich dark chocolate marquise topped with Chantilly cream and beef-fat salted caramel. A dozen low-intervention wines from small French and Italian producers start at £35, with by-the-glass selections changing each day.

There has always been something appealing about Richard Corrigan's mission to bring the spirit of his native, rural Irish cooking to the heart of London's West End. It survives its translation largely intact in the form of wild and foraged foods furnished by valued artisan suppliers, via a series of menus that never stand still. ‘The attention to detail is what makes this restaurant different from the others,’ states a reporter, not least because ‘the staff are at hand to ensure the experience is sublime.’

Under head chef Luke Ahearne, the kitchen aims for the stars while keeping its feet firmly on the earth, offering a classic opener such as a fully loaded seafood cocktail of crab, lobster, prawns and brown shrimps or, in true loin-girding fashion, a pigeon pie that incorporates Ibérico ham, foie gras, cranberry, pistacho and pickled quince. Dishes are extravagantly garnished, though without any undue sense of gilding the lily: a majestic main course of wild turbot, for example, might be tricked out with Jerusalem artichokes, pickled trompettes, sea veg and agnolotti of smoked bone marrow, everything on point and playing in harmony.

The game season might provide whole partridge with a pear pickled in vin jaune, but many will find themselves returning (understandably) to the fantastic Irish beef, perhaps in a tournedos Rossini (rich in truffles and Madeira) or a côte de boeuf for two with béarnaise and a slew of creamed spinach.

Lunch and dinner ‘du jour’ menus are devoid of any sense of corner cutting, especially when the finish line is reached via chocolate mousse with malted barley ice cream, or a nutmeg-scented custard tart with pine nuts and raisins. The wine list is vast and authoritative, opening with a changing seasonal selection. Would it be too pernickety to ask for a few more selections by the glass? At least the reds begin with Bruno Sorg's earthy Alsace Pinot Noir at £11.

A gem of a village pub, owned and run by Will Orrock and his wife Cassidy Hughes, where there’s more than a passing nod to the Fergus Henderson (St John) school of cookery. Chef Adam Spicer's menu is brisk – beautiful ingredients are left relatively unadorned, and flavours are full. What a vol-au-vent lacks in flighty height it makes up for in crispness and the springtime deliciousness of foraged morels and wild garlic, and how good to see tenderly seared cuttlefish among the starters, alongside a silken ink-black mayonnaise studded with cod's roe – don't forget to save some of the excellent house bread for mayo-scooping purposes.

A terrine of brawn and ‘blood cake’ is as muscular as its name suggests, but alongside the heft is deft culinary balance from the crunchy bite of radishes and some zippy piccalilli. As for seafood, expect a few luxuries. The delicate flavour of lobster is somewhat swamped by its coronation sauce, although a turbot main course is memorably good. Served with fat mussels, the saline pep of monk’s beard and a gently spiced mouclade sauce, it’s a dish to hurry back for. Local produce stars throughout – from vegetables and leaves courtesy of nearby organic Maple Farm to chocolate from Pump Street or the St Jude cow’s curd served alongside a caramel tart. This is ‘proper cooking,’ notes one reporter.

The Greyhound is also a proper boozer, welcoming drinkers for honest sustenance. Do check out the great-value bar snacks – say Welsh rarebit or a ploughman’s including homemade pork pie and house pickles. Perfect with a pint, or a glass from a wine list which is fit for every occasion – be it a classy Burgundy (a 2021 Saint-Aubin 1er cru ‘Clos du Meix’ from family-owned Domaine Hubert Lamy, perhaps), a steely Austrian Riesling from the Arndorfer winery or a simple lunchtime sip from the Languedoc.

Brett Graham (The Ledbury) and Mike Robinson (game specialist) opened the Harwood Arms on a quiet residential street near Fulham Broadway in 2009, and the kitchen shows a long-running commitment to prime British produce, delivering a concise seasonal menu of four choices at each course – an extremely likeable line-up of reinvented classics we would be happy to eat on a regular basis. It seemed only fitting to kick off with the dish most associated with this pub – a punchy, golden-brown venison Scotch egg accompanied by Oxford sauce, much copied but rarely bettered. This was followed by a superb warm pumpkin tart topped with Quicke’s goat’s cheese, which worked well with a mushroom purée. Complete technique was on show in a dish of excellent Berkshire fallow deer served with a faggot, red leaves and cranberries, as well as in Cornish monkfish (on the bone) topped with brown shrimps and accompanied by roasted cauliflower, tenderstem broccoli and brown crab butter. The accompanying deep-fried new potatoes with garlic butter had us nodding with pleasure. Desserts are convincingly puddingy and feel absolutely right for the setting – from a perfect custard flan with caramel and spiced plum ice cream to a pineapple upside-down cake with malted treacle and crème-fraîche ice cream. The dining area is a low-key space decked out with dark green wood panelling, a proudly displayed stag's head and generously spaced tables (with cutlery kept in a brown-leather gamekeeper's holster). The vibe is relaxed and service is friendly without being overly chatty. To drink, there is quality across the price-spectrum, from a selection of 21 wines by the glass (from £7) to high-calibre representation from Burgundy (including top producer, Domaine Ramonet) as well as Bordeaux's Left Bank.

A block or two from Piccadilly Gardens, Higher Ground is run by a triumvirate who met while working at Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills in New York State. They have now rocked up at the corner of an office building in, naturally, New York Street, to bring up-to-the-minute bistro food to a vanguard gastronomic city. Much of what comes into the kitchen is supplied by their own farm Cinderwood, a market garden smallholding in Cheshire, and its vivid intensities of flavour inspire chefs and diners alike. Eaten in a bright, spacious airport-style space, with counter seating as well as tables, the result is dishes that you will want to share, rather than merely being told that you have to. Green pea and spring garlic fritters enriched with Isle of Mull Cheddar won't touch the sides, and there are pedigree cured meats such as 12-month air-dried culatello or the cannily sourced salami taormina from Curing Rebels of Brighton. Fish cookery is of the first water: Scottish turbot with grilled lettuce, spring onions and basil is perfect with a side order of waxy Marfona potatoes dressed in roasted yeast and smoked butter. Desserts are, surprisingly, of a more delicate persuasion than puds and cheesecake. Try house-cultured yoghurt with preserved gooseberry and bay leaf, or milk ice cream given a little fairground pizzazz with chocolate malt fudge. Speciality bottled ales from the English regions are a plus point, and wine-drinkers can be sure their tipple will have been left to its own devices as far as possible, turning burnt orange for Ardèche Marsanne or abashed pink for Sicilian rosato. House fizz is a Crémant de Limoux.

Joshua and Victoria Overington opened Mýse (pronounced 'meez') in the summer of 2023. It's a converted inn snuggled in a sleepy North Yorkshire village, but with ideas that lift it way out of the country-pub norm. The name is the Anglo-Saxon word that denoted ceremonial dining at table, though that shouldn't lead you to expect a mýse-hrægel (tablecloth). Formerly head chef at Le Cochon Aveugle in York, Joshua leads a team that is single-mindedly dedicated to the principles of modern sustainable cooking, with foraging, fermenting, pickling and infusing high on everybody's skill-set.

Nibbles set the tone: Ripon roe deer in fermented plum sauce topped with smoked Exmoor caviar in a little charcoal tartlet; a hay-vinegared quail's egg on mushroom parfait; a twig brochette of ox cheek braised in ale, then deep-fried in Yorkshire-pudding batter – layers of flavour and stunning richness rolling out even before you have reached the dining room. An Orkney scallop is very lightly poached in sea-urchin butter and served in the shell on a bed of seaweed. The thrift principle extends to turning last year's squash seeds into a 'miso' which is used to garnish a soup of this year's squash, its texture firmed up with a little pumpkin-seed granola.

A crown of duck is introduced by being carried regally about the room, and now begins its culinary act. After a presentation of duck charcuterie with a crumpet of liver mousse, plus a richly spicy broth flavoured with walnut and orange, comes a thick slice of the breast served with game sausage, confit beetroot and black-walnut relish. A pair of desserts is interspersed with the petits fours, which makes them less of an afterthought than usual – the finale being a flourless fig tart with an ice cream of fig leaves from the garden. Overington himself comes to the table and fires up the dish with flaming Yorkshire rum, harking us back to the dear old flambé days of our gilded youth.

The food is matched by an excellent drinks list, which takes in inspired non-alcoholic sodas and kombuchas, imaginative cocktails and a decent selection of wines in small glasses, from a mere £5 for a quality Vinho Verde. Bottle prices ascend rapidly, but the choices are exceptionally good, through to a Georgian Saperavi and Peloponnese Agiorgitiko.

Sited in a Queen Anne townhouse in Holborn, this was the first of the Noble Rot triplets to emerge, and it established the format to perfection. There is a distinguished menu of Anglo-French cooking, there are small-plate snacks in the bar area, a long counter, walls full of appealing prints, and – not least – a wine list that, from teeny taster tots to bottles of the world's finest, coaxes all palates and pockets to try out new things and celebrate the old.

A reporter who knows his black puddings found nothing but admiration for the Christian Parra boudin noir, served here with chicory roasted in port. That was followed by Yorkshire pheasant with soft, positively gooey polenta given textural heft with chestnuts. Another seasoned diner writes that ‘Saturday lunch is my happy place,’ and where better to spend it than on the set menu here, which offers superb value and unforgettable flavours into the bargain?

It might start with something as simple as egg mayonnaise, a perfectly pitched boiled egg in sumptuous, glossy dressing with an assertive mustard kick, criss-crossed with a pair of Ortiz anchovies. Proceed to a dish of morteau sausage on mustard-strafed soupy lentils, and a wodge of the house sourdough to mop up. On the main menu, things get even classier, when Cornish brill in vin jaune with Alsace bacon competes with Swaledale mutton chops and puntarelle for favour. The bistro desserts rise to the stars for crème caramel with Sauternes raisins or the near-perfect lemon tart, ‘just the right side of mouth-puckering with citrus, then sinking into sweet creaminess’.

The wine list, meanwhile, is worth spending a while with: there are glasses of more obscure and overlooked wines among the first battalions, with Coravin selections of those in their finest array to follow on. Choices across the globe are hardly ever less than excellent, and if you're on a splash, there are few better spreads of Champagne in London.

A self-styled ‘progressive working-class caterer’ back in Victorian times, the Quality Chop House is still providing a great service under its current custodians, and its spirit is buoyant. QCH is moving with the times too – although the Grade II-listing ensures its heritage will always be faithfully preserved. In the main dining room, a central walkway with chequerboard flooring is flanked by oak benches and narrow tables with cast-iron legs, while an arched doorway offers a glimpse of the kitchen. The walls are partially panelled, with mirrors and chalkboards above. We thought the food was excellent, well-considered and ‘unapologetic in its excess’, with a few defiantly British faithfuls such as game and hazelnut terrine or Yorkshire mallard with January king cabbage rubbing shoulders with Euro-accented ideas including Suffolk lamb osso buco or Brixham pollack with brown shrimp grenobloise and celeriac. True to form, steaks and chops are the headliners: the fat cap on our mangalitza bacon chop was three-quarters of an inch thick and effortlessly melted in the mouth with an intense savouriness, while the lengthy wait for a slab of Hereford sirloin was justified by the appearance of the steak alone. Served sliced off the bone on antique crockery, the deep-brown crust lightly glistened in its own juices, while the flesh was deep-pink and cooked evenly throughout. To accompany, the much-imitated confit potatoes were wonderfully crisp, and Brussels tops made a welcome appearance gilded with Parmesan. If you still have room, desserts offer high-calorie comfort in the shape of, say, treacle tart with clotted cream or Pump Street chocolate mousse with Seville orange. Service is warm and attentive, with everything running seamlessly; staff are also spot-on when it comes to recommendations from the wide-ranging wine list. Quality Wines next door is also worth checking out.

A fixture of dining out in the heart of the West End since the time of George III, Rules is now well into its third century of operations. It remains a gloriously unreconstructed monument to British ways of dining, coming into its own particularly during the game season. A diner who knows his birds regretted the seeming obsolescence of the grouse season these days, but was relieved to find a red-legged partridge on the bill of fare in September. A silver pint tankard of Black Velvet (Champagne got up in a sombre coat of Guinness, originally to mourn the passing of Prince Albert in 1861) makes for a satisfying entrée to the Rules experience.

Dishes that have slipped into the heritage category are treated as if they were still the acme of gastronomy – witness the steak and kidney suet pudding freighted with tender succulent beef and intensely flavoured offal (plus an oyster too, if you will), together with another silver vessel, this time a boat of extra gravy. Add sides of dauphinoise and creamed spinach, and satisfaction is complete.

Start perhaps with stuffed mussels replete with garlic and herb butter, topped with breadcrumbs, or one of the daringly modern salads – smoked ham, pomegranate and blood-orange, or beetroot, apple, walnut and blue cheese – the better to enjoy the richness to come. Main-course fish includes a salmon escalope napped with Champagne chive butter, but meat options tend to be the favourites: a ‘cassoulet’ made with rabbit, smoked bacon and black pudding, for example. Treacle tart and orchard fruit crumbles are de rigueur for afters, but flourless blood-orange and chocolate cake shows that not all passing trends pass Rules by.

A deeply traditional wine list opens with a Rhône red and a dry white Bordeaux by the glass. Service, from initial halloo to fond farewell, is impeccable throughout, while the decorative style (complete with glistening burnished wood, classical figurines, old prints and paintings) augments the atmosphere a treat. Be prepared, though, for a steep, narrow ascent to the bathrooms.

The earliest licence was granted to the current inn's predecessor, once a smugglers’ drinking den, at about the same time as they were storming the Bastille over the Channel. Having seemingly played an incidental role in the action of Lorna Doone, the pub is now owned by the Greenall brewing family, who have extensively refurbished the place in tasteful contemporary style.

Chef Prim Lapuz's kitchen is justly proud of its meat supplies, which mostly originate from nearby sources, and it's no surprise that the place has garnered many nominations for its Sunday roasts: ‘I have never had such amazing beef,’ is typical of readers’ comments. The sausages are pretty good too, perhaps made from a blend of Exmoor venison and pork belly, served with wild garlic mash and Cumberland sauce. Fish dishes are equally convincing, too, with a slab of hake in a rich sauce incorporating brown crabmeat among the possibilities.

With the likes of grilled squid and chilli jam or a satisfyingly chunky country terrine with onion marmalade among the starters, it's clear nobody will turn faint for lack of nourishment. Crumbles and puddings bring up the rear in stout fashion, or you might consider something like a chocolate, orange and prune frangipane tart served with clotted cream. The drinks side of the operation is as comprehensively furnished as you would expect from proprietors who have been in the alcohol business since the 18th century.

* The restaurant will be closing for good after Sunday lunch on 18 May 2025. Co-owners Dave Hart and Polly Pleasence have plans in motion to open a daytime wine bar and small plates spot on Canterbury’s Northgate, at the entrance to the beautiful almshouses of St John’s Hospital.*

Compact. Economical. Quirky. This former two-roomed tea shop may feel homely with its vintage crockery and handful of tables, but it suits the unfussy food on offer here. Everything coming out of Dave Hart's kitchen is a joy, the approach distinguished by reassuringly skilful cooking and a crisp, clear view of what it wants to be. The scene is set by a short, ‘fabulously thought-out’ blackboard menu listing French-inspired dishes built around local and seasonal produce. There are no pretensions or unnecessary garnishes – flavours are direct and enjoyable, whether classic rose veal kidneys with grain mustard on toast, a risotto primavera or guinea fowl with French-style peas and bacon. As one regular admitted: ‘I always get a naughty urge to lick every plate clean because I can’t bear the idea of a single flavour wasted.’ Start, perhaps with a dish of green beans, peach and jamón, strewn with hazelnuts, then move on to a perfectly timed wild sea bass fillet with tomato butter sauce, courgettes and tapenade. As for dessert, ‘out of this world’ crème brûlée is as good as it gets, and the chocolate mousse with griottine cherries and cream will guarantee a happy ending. Many reporters have praised Polly Pleasence, the charismatic co-owner who runs front of house, and there is plenty of love for the impressive wine list which has been meticulously selected with an eye on the quality-price ratio. A decent selection is offered by the glass, and suggested wine pairings are posted on the blackboard. All in all, just the kind of local 'worth moving to Folkestone for.’

‘I have felt welcome and at home here for many years,' comments one regular. Some restaurants can make you happy as soon as you step over the threshold. Such is the case at this locally loved eatery tucked within a farmers' market, a stone’s throw from Canterbury West station. With its own farm and deep connection with local producers – the Goods Shed celebrates its quarter centenary in 2025 – it fits the whole farmers’ market ethos perfectly: you’ll often see a chef picking out produce from the market stalls.

There are no tasting menus here, just a daily changing blackboard with about five choices per course. Former sous-chef Morgan Lewis has taken over the kitchen, and his devotedly seasonal and unfettered menu doesn’t beat about the bush, delivering the likes of grilled squid with lemon and green sauce or cold roast pork with anchoïade, fried capers and pickled cucumber – two starters that say it all. Generous mains are often reboot of old-school classics such as a meaty pork chop with a richly indulgent cauliflower purée, cauliflower salad and a glossy, meaty sauce. Or you could savour a brandade fishcake with a butter sauce dotted with caviar and topped with rocket and salmon roe.

To finish, choux buns filled with strawberry and vodka ice cream and white chocolate provide a perfect parting shot. To drinks, there’s a brief, efficient list of European (and English) wines plus a small selection of cocktails, as well as a decent line-up of Kentish ales and cider. Charming service seals the deal.

Images: Sally Gurteen

A 20-year tenure at the Oxford Arms in Kirtlington earned Bryn and Oxana Jones a strong pedigree that stood them in good stead when they relocated to Scotland in 2022. It also gave them the opportunity to sensitively refresh and expand this historic coaching inn on the scenic, remote and – at times – dramatic road across the Borders between Moffat and Selkirk.

The Gordon Arms is a genuine family affair – Bryn in the kitchen, Oxana front of house – and guests are drawn into the comforting solidity of well-banked fires, convivial chat and a sense of respite and restoration from travel. Seasonality, sustainability and local sourcing are evident across the carte and monthly changing five-course tasting menu – and there's a keen eye for value, too. You’re welcome to have just one dish or three kindly priced courses.

Expect carefully prepared, rustic food from a chef who understands the quality of his raw materials and is content to let them shine. A satisfyingly hearty game terrine reflects the Borders location, embracing whatever came out of the gamekeeper’s bag that day, simply complemented by homemade plum chutney and sourdough. Venison salami from the Yarrow Valley, meanwhile, is partnered by unapologetically chunky celeriac rémoulade.

Lamb loin ‘melting in the mouth and tasting divine’ has all the flavour you’d expect from a life on the surrounding heather-clad hills, while a roseate venison Wellington is the perfect exemplar of that dish. For dessert, look for Oxana’s deft touch in a flourless chocolate and hazelnut torte alongside Armagnac prunes or classic orchard-based fruit desserts from the garden. The wine list is well-focused, with some interesting and affordable options as well as a decent selection by the glass or carafe.

What might once have been the rectory of the euphoniously named village of Slaggyford has been a hostelry since Victorian times. Outdoor tables will be a definite summer lure to hikers on the nearby Pennine Way, but the considered transformation of the Kirkstyle Inn into a modern dining pub with rooms seals it as a valuable regional asset. Nick Parkinson (formerly of the Royal Oak, Paley Street) was persuaded to forsake the embrace of Berkshire for these wilder environs by an enterprising property developer, but the new home feels like a perfect fit. The cons, including fitted wine shelves, are all definitely mod but the makeover doesn't seem ersatz; the flagstone floors are undisturbed and, most importantly, the kitchen is off and running. A starter of North Sea crab, peas and chopped fermented asparagus was a bravura dish, the various green elements in perfect balance with the creamily dressed, fresh crustacean. Elsewhere, loose-textured duck liver parfait was offset by the sharpness of blackberries and the textural snap of granola. An aspirational main course of halibut, which came with beurre blanc cut with fragrant dill oil, plus a mishmash of brown shrimps, chanterelles, pickled grapes and samphire, turned out to be a safer wager than the more prosaic fish and chips; alternatively, you might opt for breast and confit leg of guinea fowl with crushed potatoes, morels and leek. To finish, rhubarb and pistachio crumble with rhubarb sorbet was pleasantly tart and fresh, while cherries and almonds offered inspired contrasts to a dark chocolate crémeux. Drinking is a particularly happy experience, especially as prices begin at a mere £3 for a small glass of Chilean Merlot. Even the 'classed growth' claret and white Burgundy are offered at prices that will have city types green with envy.

Maybe it’s the gentle lamplight and daisy-fresh posies on every table, or the bistro-style paper over chequered linen, or the cushioned comfort of the seats in this vast converted barn. Or maybe it’s the reliably delicious food on a menu whose appeal doesn’t fade with the years. There’s something reassuring about a meal here. You won’t find experimental cooking, no dibs, dabs and dots, but you will find generosity of flavour (and portions), and a firm sense of place. The kitchen looks first to its immediate surrounds for ingredients. The Wyken Estate provides abundant game – perhaps roast pheasant with celeriac, cabbage and bacon, or venison, roasted till just pink and served with pickled, puréed and roasted cauliflower and haggis bonbons. Asparagus from the Estate shines for its short few weeks, and the wider region amply delivers pork, seafood and produce according to season. Even the chocolates offered with coffee are hyper-local, made by former head chef Simon Woodrow. Chalk stream trout, albeit from further afield, makes a fine starter, the richness of the fish balanced with pops of pickled mustard seeds, slivers of fennel and the dill running through a spoonful of cream cheese. Follow it perhaps with duck breast, served perfectly tender alongside a faggot, crisp-edged dauphinoise and the vividly freshening flavour and colour of spring greens and rhubarb. Finish with a prettily presented iced pavlova which might sing with more of that rhubarb, or gooseberries or passion fruit depending on the time of year. Wines from the Wyken Vineyard are an obvious choice from the short, carefully selected list.

Built as a props warehouse in the 1800s before becoming a lumber store, the Radford family's aptly named Timberyard feels perfectly attuned to the space it occupies – monumental in scale but retaining intimacy and humility. Rough white walls, monastic timber tables, ecclesiastical candles and hemp linen may infer a certain cool asceticism – accentuated by the contemporary classical soundtrack – but there are certainly no metaphorical hair shirts where the food is concerned. Rusticity and refinement sit in perfect balance with the joyous celebration of flavours and a messianic elevation of honest ingredients, both foraged and from artisan producers. Slightly distant staff glide between the tables with almost ritualistic purpose.

Set menus include an extendable three-courses at lunchtime to fuller five-or seven-course options. An opening scene-setter of beach rose and tomato broth blends the Turkish delight aromas of foraged petals into a redolent consommé, while a raw beef toast masterfully offsets earthy funk with floral freshness. Follow on with tiny girolles in a Comté and hazelnut cream, draped in creamy slivers of guanciale and finished with shaved white truffle.

Each dish carefully builds the layers of taste, so a perfectly pan-roasted quail gets just enough sweetness and bite from its smoked onion and wilted monk’s beard accompaniments before harmonising the whole in the savoury creaminess of pan juices cut with black pepper yoghurt. Like so many of the dishes, the apparent simplicity of a raspberry and lavender dessert belies meticulous foundations: perfect fruits, seasoned juice, infused cream and a zingy gel.

If you don’t opt for one of the matched drinks flights, then 30-odd pages of all-natural and often unusual wines offer a compendious delight for those with a Mastermind 'specialist subject' interest. There are superlative choices in all categories, but markups are on the ferocious side. The sommelier offers ready advice and the unlisted, daily-changing wines by the glass are well-chosen – even if a measure of trust is expected when it comes to price and style.