The Wild Garlic is a restaurant situated in Beaminster (a sleepy town on the south coast between Exeter and Bournemouth) which, whilst on the face of it seems little more than a more-active-than-average mortuary, is actually a rather charming little village lucky to house one of the finest restaurants in this part of the country. For those of you that love reality-culinary TV (like me, unashamedly), you’ll be familiar with the owner and head chef of this café-come-gastro pub, Mat Follas, who was the winner of BBC’s Masterchef in 2009. The rotund New Zealander gained prominence for his love of local, fresh ingredients that typically were available to forage within the surrounding countryside, which is why the location of this restaurant makes perfect sense.
As you can tell, I was pretty excited by the prospect of dining at Mat Follas’ restaurant – Mat Follas! – and so it was difficult to hide my initial disappointment upon first sight of the restaurant. Situated in the central square of the village, it is utterly non-descript from the outside, blending in with the monotony of craft stores and news agents. Yet I tried to stay positive, if only because I knew my mum had known I’d wanted to come here for ages, and I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
We entered, and things immediately changed. The décor was a mix between off-white wooden panelling, and light-mint green walls, which worked really well with the blackboards and real wooden fire. We were shown to our seats by a welcoming waitress, who had that laid-back kind of attitude which rendered validating our reservation superfluous; it’s something I really like in waiting staff, because I know I’m far too stiff to pull it off. Yet I immediately felt at home, and had almost immediately forgotten about my earlier doubts.
Once drinks were out of the way, we got stuck into the menu, which led to quite an extensive and in-depth discussion between mum and I regarding how on earth we were supposed to choose from such fine options; we decided on skipping starters (of which there was a surprisingly impressive range, including the intriguing red onion tart tatin) and went straight for the mains. Having deliberated for quite some time, mum went for the Jerusalem artichoke risotto with radishes, and I (rather indulgently) went for the 12-hour cooked pork belly with sweet potato.
When it came out, I was initially taken-aback with the vibrancy of the colours, and indeed the aromas that were brazen across the plate. Indeed, one of the joys about a less descriptive menu is that when you are presented with the dish, there are surprises which often can elevate it above your expectations, and I can safely say that was the case with my dish. The pork belly was cooked to perfection; the 12 hours cooking were clearly the difference. It dispelled the myth that certain cooks seem to have, which is that pork has to be ‘murdered’ at a high temperature. In this case, the pork was obviously cooked over night at a very low temperature, and it showed as the meat came apart at the slightest of touches, meaning that the flavour was amplified above expectations. It was topped with crackling that, whilst in the eyes of some could be said to be overdone, in my opinion was as it should be (crisp and full of flavour), and was accompanied by roast carrots and a (giant) parsnip.
As I referred to above, the dish was elevated above my expectations, and that was not just down to the cooking. Accompanying the pork were two types of purée; sweet potato (as included in the menu), and beetroot. Now, I can hear the reservations that people may suggest regarding sweetness, but the genius of the design of this dish came through with the fact that the two sweet purées, with a fairly sweet meat, were perfectly offset by the crackling and the juice, which provided a saltiness that was essential for the success of the plate as a whole.
Even though I’ve become slightly carried away with this dish, it is only just to mention that mum's dish was also really quite brilliant (dare I say it, for a veggie plate). The flavour of sweet Jerusalem artichoke and slightly bitter radish ran throughout the pearl barley risotto, which was a first for both of us, and whilst it could be criticised for being a little too rich, the finished article was a lesson on how to achieve the perfect risotto texture; al dente enough for some crunch, but creamy and smooth at the same time.
Whilst this was all rather enjoyable, the crowning glory of the meal was still to come (to our delight). I’m sure if you’re reading this then you probably have all experienced that moment when, having unanimously agreed that everyone is far too full to have desert, you take a look at the menu and observe the awkward silence that precedes the inevitable “well, I suppose we could share something”. And in all honesty, there was no way either of us were going to refuse; the real question was how were we going to decide what to have. After much deliberation, we settled on the intriguingly-named ‘lemon curd pavlova with peanut butter dust’, and we certainly backed the right dessert.
Even though the concept of peanut butter dust sounds inexorably pretentious, the dish offered far more than the description entailed. The pavlova – soft and airy with whisked egg whites – was filled with clotted cream, and topped with a mixture of lemon curd, toffee sauce, peanuts, peanut butter dust, and the rather unusual beetroot dust. It was a triumph. The light meringue, with its crisp exterior and gooey inside, was matched perfectly by the simultaneously tart lemon curd and sweet toffee, with the whole peanuts adding a crunch that was backed up in flavour by the peanut butter dust. In truth I probably could have done without the beetroot (it added little in flavour), although I must admit it worked perfectly in terms of visual effect. After we devoured the lot, mum got slightly giddy, and in her enthusiasm managed to get the waitress to bring Mat out of the kitchen to explain the concept behind the dish. I may be sounding a little harsh actually; the waitress, as previously explained, was lovely, and Mat – in between cooking and brining out food personally to some of the other (lucky) diners – was more than happy to explain his ideas about the dish, and food generally; interestingly, he said he tried to adhere as close as possible to the balance of sweet, sour, savoury and salty, hence the addition of peanuts and beetroot to the desert.
Overall, The Wild Garlic delivered where it matters most; in the taste and presentation of the food, and in the atmosphere of the restaurant itself. Whilst Beaminster has little else to offer, and possibly detracts from the personality of the establishment, it is pretty easy to forgive when you see that the reasoning behind its location is clear; foraging is what Mat Follas does, and he does it very well. Oh, and he’s a nice guy too… always good to know.
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