Some restaurants are like an East Neuk creel.
Youโre tempted indoors by the food, then the door closes behind you.
Unlike the lobsters, humans donโt want to leave. Especially when it comes to restaurant-with-rooms, The Shoregate, as it was blowing a hoolie outside on our visit. The spray seemed to be coming from all directions, car-wash-style.
There was a view from our table, down a close, where at the end, the sea looked forbiddingly concrete-coloured. Our souโwesters were hung at the door, dripping.
This port-in-a-storm opened 18 months ago and is owned by couple, Nicholas Frost and Damon Reynolds, with Craig McAllister, formerly of Prestonfield House Hotel, as head chef.
You can eat in the couthy bar area, with its stained glass window, but we stuck to the teal and orange dining room, where they had Keep Young and Beautiful on the stereo, as if they knew we were coming.
I bedded in with a cocktail - the basil gimlet (ยฃ10.50). It was polka-dotted with a grassy green basil concentrate and wasย syrupy, thanks to the St Germain Elderflower Liqueur, which disguised the heavy duty glug of Hendricks Gin.
After three sips, I was ready to join in with; โdonโt fail to do your stuff, with a little powder and a puffโ. He wasnโt in the mood for a sing-song, since he was on the booze-free Menabrea (ยฃ4).
Weโd chosen two cold starters to share. The salt baked beetroot (ยฃ11) was a surprise hit. There was a fluffy smoked crowdie mousse, along with quarters of red and golden beetroot, fragile seedy tuiles, plus pumpkin, pomegranateย and sunflower seeds.
The cheese to veg ratio was 60:40, just how I like it.
Our slices of pigeon and pancetta terrine (ยฃ12) didnโt look that appealing, with pink chunks that made them resemble the anatomical cross-sections you might see at Surgeons Hall. Still, thatโs MY problem and, aesthetics aside, the dense meaty mosaics tasted great.
They came with a generous dollop of chutney, slivers of mustard pears, and pickled โbaby navetโ, which sounds like the cutest creatureย ever, but is a small turnip.
After a pair of busy starters, Iโd gone simple with my main course of whole lemon sole (ยฃ25). It was myย late dadโs favouriteย fish, and I rarely have it, so this was a way of saying hello. It was cloudย soft, buttery and bronzed by beurre noisette and adorned by a gazillion nonpareille capers. I flaked off one side, then flipped it and methodically dispatched the other. It didnโt come with any sides, because I didnโt want to gild the lily, but there are upmarket potatoes, chips, greens or carrots (ยฃ5) should you require accessories.
My baby navet had chosen the ballotine of pheasant, truffle and gruyere (ยฃ20), which was super indulgent and wintery. I donโt think Iโve ever had oozy fromage in a ballotine before, but it worked. This came with a relatively light puy lentil cassoulet, sans sausage, and plenty of burly cavolo nero.
Itโs been a long time since we both ordered pudding. Weโre usually scunnered, so have one to share. Not this time.
Thatโs because I have a weakness for retro rum and raisin ice-cream, and this came as part of the warm apple pudding (ยฃ9) option. Thatโs as well as hot custard. Itโs usually one or tโother, so this felt wrong, but also so right. This is how I plan to continue throughoutย 2024. The square block of pencil-shaving-brown sponge pud was school dinner-ish, but I do prefer the less-sophisticated desserts.
I rinsed it down with a double espresso (ยฃ3.25), which was the most bitter coffee Iโve ever had. My eyelidsย nearly turned inside out with every sip. Thankfully, this, as did the tea, came with a big block of tablet to make the medicine go down.
Heโd gone for a lapsang souchong (ยฃ3), as he thought itโd team perfectly with the plum bakewell (ยฃ9), and he was right. Thisย was a large discus of almond-flake-topped tart, with a judicious amount of honey poached plum, and piped-on rosettesย of rum butter round the edges of the plate.
We ate every last bit and Iโm very happy to have made it along here at last. My lovely creel. It tempted me in, and I didnโt want to leave.
I give it two pincers up.
