The secret café
Tucked discreetly along a footpath, this beachside bistro is a hidden treasure of the Cornish coastline
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND IMAGINE THE PERFECT summer’s day. What do you see? For most people, it’s a sandy bay, clear blue water, the tide drifting in and out and maybe a simple supper, including fish so fresh you can taste the sea. Heavenly.
Unfortunately, the reality all too often fails to live up to the daydream, which is why arriving at The Hidden Hut on the Roseland Peninsula beach of Porthcurnick feels somewhat surreal. The sun is edging its way towards the horizon, casting an ephemeral glow across the golden sand. Pockets of people happily chatter across big oak tables – their voices muffled by the distant crash of the sea. Some savour cones of Cornish ice cream, others slather mackerel pâté onto crusty bread. The smell of sweet spices and fried fish wafts from the outdoor kitchen. This is summer as people dream it. No cars, no crowds – just sea, sand, simple food and good company.
Presided over by Jemma Glass and Simon Stallard, who took over the National Trust lease in 2010, The Hidden Hut (‘hidden’ being the operative word) is a beachside café like no other. Accessed only on foot via the coastal path between Portscatho and St Mawes, to the untrained eye it looks more like a potting shed than a restaurant. But to those in the know, it’s home to the best (and most reasonably priced) seafood in town. No wonder tickets to weekly ‘feast nights’, to which diners bring their own wine, cutlery and crockery, sell out within minutes.
It’s difficult to imagine this spot in anything other than dazzling sunshine, but of course it isn’t always so. “We’ve had feasts in storms and during weather warnings,” Jemma says, “Once, horizontal rain was driving inside the hut and 45mph winds meant we couldn’t put up any cover.”
“It was one of my favourites, though,” Simon adds. “We had creamed potato, steamed greens and a sticky rib of beef cooked over a coal pit. We were so excited, then the weather came in. But we couldn’t cancel; whatever happens, we never cancel.” Still, the couple didn’t hold out hope that all, if any, of the 82 ticket holders would show up. But they did. In fact, four extras came along in the hope there might have been cancellations. Even then, the pair had expected hungry feastgoers to dash over the hill bearing Tupperware before swiftly returning to the comfort of their cars
to eat in the dry. But they discovered that guests come for the whole Hidden Hut experience, not just the food. “We built a fire and sat around it with our umbrellas up, singing,” Simon continues. That’s the spirit of things here – community is at the core and everyone mucks in, including Jemma’s mum Maggie, who lives around the corner in Portscatho and bakes many of the sumptuous cakes on offer at the counter.
The couple, who have a three-year-old son, Oscar, were living with Maggie when they came up with the idea for The Hidden Hut. Simon would walk past it every day on his way to The Rosevine hotel, where he was a chef. “I used to say, ‘I’d love to run a beach café,’ and knew we could make something work here.” So when the National Trust decided to renew the lease, the pair asked to take it over. “When we first opened, it was just me and Mum because Simon was working full time,” Jemma remembers. “I’d be here with my book waiting for customers.” This must have felt like déjà vu for Jemma, who grew up in the area and worked at the hut as a teenager when it was little more than a shack selling coffee from polystyrene cups. “If you’d told me then that I’d be running it later on, I’d have thought you were crazy.”
A LOVE OF FOOD
Guildford-born Simon arrived in Cornwall 13 years ago to run a gastro pub kitchen. “Regionally, the food scene is amazing. That’s why I came down,” he says. “And that’s why you stayed,” laughs Jemma. “Nothing to do with me or anything.” This is clearly a running joke – aside from Jemma, food is clearly the love of Simon’s life.
Since the very first feast, when there was little more than some grilled mackerel, potato salad and a sign saying ‘BBQ’ at the top of the road, the hut has proven to be an extraordinarily popular
destination, despite (or perhaps by virtue of ) its hard-to-reach location. For those who don’t manage to secure a much-coveted feast ticket, lunchtimes are open to all, with no need to book. Think rustic cardboard containers brimming with hearty seafood chowder, fragrant fish curry, mackerel, squid, crab – or whatever else the sea has to offer that day.
FRESH FROM THE SEA
Fishermen delivering their catch straight from ocean to kitchen is a regular sight. “From corner to corner, the water here is prolific for fishing but really carefully managed,” Simon says, looking out across the bay. “The small families who fish here do so under line and oar – you don’t see any big trawlers coming through.” From bream to beef, everything served at the hut is locally and ethically sourced. A “one-man band with a polytunnel” is responsible for the hut’s vegetables. “We love it because he and his wife were picking courgettes yesterday and we had them in our curry today,” Jemma says.
As dusk falls, Simon sets about lighting tall medieval-looking torches, while Jemma places thick woollen blankets onto the wooden benches. The obscured shapes of hungry customers begin to emerge over the hill – all armed with wicker picnic
baskets, crockery, bottled beer, blankets – and one couple, rather peculiarly, a chandelier.
Tables are communal and, once everyone is settled, inter-party chatter quickly commences. Diners break bread and speak animatedly over flickering candlelight and something unusual becomes clear – no one is on their phone. “There’s no signal here – it’s like an enforced digital detox,” Jemma laughs. “It’s enriching to stop for an hour or two and just be outdoors.”
Dinner is announced and diners follow their noses to where burly chefs are serving generous portions of jasmine rice and Keralan curry – inspired by Simon’s travels in India – as well as plenty of fresh fish. You can spot seasoned visitors by the size of their plates – novices hold modest breakfast bowls, while the experienced wield vast pasta dishes in which to fit more plentiful portions.
The party is made up of an assortment of locals and those who have travelled far and wide to be here tonight – one couple has come from Exeter, another Manchester. There are students from nearby Falmouth University, young families, elderly couples and everyone in between. With prices starting at £14 for a smoky shellfish dinner, attendees are aware they’re getting real value for money. Most say they’d be willing to pay a lot more, but Simon and Jemma want to keep it “inclusive not exclusive”.
Night falls and with it sweeps in a chilly sea breeze, but spirits remain high and the night feels young with people still huddled together in the light of the fire, drinking wine from paper cups and polishing off second portions of curry. Some tuck blankets round bare legs as Jemma ponders whether to hand out hot-water bottles. Simon smiles: “It doesn’t look like anyone’s going to leave tonight.”
For more details and to buy tickets, visit hiddenhut.co.uk.