One might be tempted to believe that a restaurant begins in the kitchen, amid the clatter of pans and the cursing of chefs, but that would be quite wrong. It begins instead in fields, pastures, dairies and boats; with people who rise earlier than is decent and care far more than is fashionable.

Our food is only ever as good as the ingredients we receive from our select bunch of growers, farmers and suppliers. We rely upon them not merely for produce, but for judgment, integrity and a shared refusal to cut corners. That relationship runs closer still through Beech Hill Farm, our own meat-producing farm, where the principles we prize are not merely admired, but practised daily.

Respecting ingredients means knowing when to leave well alone, when to interfere gently, and when to let flavour speak for itself. Good cooking, after all, is not an act of invention so much as one of stewardship. We are merely the final custodians of something that began long before it reached our hands, and we take that responsibility and that pleasure very seriously indeed.