National Geographic Traveller (UK) - Food
PEMBROKESHIRE
Across this Welsh county, producers and chefs are upping their game, elevating fresh, seasonal and local ingredients to the top of the menu
THE BREW WITH A VIEW RUNWAYSKILN
High on a clifftop, in a far-flung corner of west Wales, a small window looks out over a vast, wild landscape. Barley fields stretch towards the coast, where jagged cliffs drop into the shimmering sea. On the horizon, I can just make out the golden strip of Marloes Sands and, beyond that, Skokholm island, a popular hangout for puffins and seals.
I could happily look out of the window for hours, but over on this side of the glass is Runwayskiln, and chef Charlie Langrick’s innovative cooking.
Along with his partner Claire Pepperell, Charlie updated this former farm (more recently a youth hostel) by converting one of the black-timbered barns into a cafe, and another building into guest accommodation. The property sits right on the winding Pembrokeshire Coast Path, and while it’s National Trust-owned, you won’t find the regular tearoom staples.
“We want to offer simple, natural food that’s on a par with the standard of the landscape around us,” Charlie says. “Pembrokeshire has always had excellent beaches, but until recently, few places offered fresh, quality food. That’s now changing — people are raising their game.”
Despite the changes the pair have made, the building’s history is still visible in places: benches are made from youth hostel bunkbeds, while iron rings on the wall are a remnant of its past purpose as a piggery.
The menu at Runwayskiln — named after the Runwa family, who had a kiln for their beer-brewing business here in the 18th century — draws on fresh, local produce and changes with the season, leaning heavily towards vegetables. Cauliflower pakoras are served with pickled slaw; frittatas are flavoured with wild garlic and garden rosemary; and fig and walnut focaccia is topped with local goat’s cheese and wild honey. “We want our food to be ingredient-led rather than techniqueled,” Claire says, topping up my cup of tea. “It means that the emphasis is on the quality of the items on your plate.”
Charlie — who is head chef throughout the season (generally March-december) and serves up to 150 covers per sitting — whips up a plate of carrots on sourdough toast for me. It’s heavenly. The slender, lightly grilled carrots are ultra-fresh, having been pulled out of the ground just hours ago at Springfield Farm, six miles down the road.
“The vegetables are picked in the morning, and half an hour later they’re in our kitchen being prepped,” Claire says.
A frittata is just as delicious (“it’s all about having enough onions, and cooking them slowly,” Charlie explains) and I also polish off a slice of rhubarb cake, made with polenta and goat butter that adds extra tang. Then it’s back to that view — or outside into that windswept landscape to walk it all off. runwayskiln.co.uk
THE LOCAL TIPPLE ST DAVIDS GIN & KITCHEN
Decapitation isn’t the usual topic of conversation over a splash of gin. But St Davids Welsh Dry Gin isn’t your usual spirit. “When we went to Ramsey Island to forage for botanicals, we discovered an abundance of water mint,” says Neil Walsh, owner of St Davids Gin & Kitchen. Legend has it that the island, just over half a mile off St David’s Head, is where the sixth-century hermit Saint Justinian was beheaded. “They say that water gushed up from the ground where his head fell,” Neil adds. “The spot became a healing well and is now one of the few areas on the island where water mint flourishes.”
The mythology alone has sold me on a taster, despite the fact it’s only just hit 11am. The crystal-clear liquid is fresh yet warming on the back of my throat. As I sip, I study a map of suppliers on the wall. The restaurant focuses on locally sourced produce — such as fillets of Welsh Black beef from St Davids, and lobster and crab from nearby Solva — with most ingredients travelling less than three miles from source to plate.
But it’s the gin that’s really caught my attention. As well as water mint, Neil also found ancient juniper bushes on Ramsey during one of his foraging trips. The plant is at risk from berry-loving rabbits and coastal erosion, so to help, Neil has devised an eightyear plan to propagate juniper cuttings on the
mainland, then gradually reintroduce them to the island.
Then there are the birds. Ramsey Island is an Rspb-owned nature reserve, home to peregrine falcons, breeding seabirds and flocks of choughs. The latter, with their fiery red beaks and legs, are emblazoned on the labels of the gin bottles as a reminder that 5% of profits go towards RSPB projects on the island. The first two editions of gin funded a UV water-filter tap, helping to cut down on single-use plastic bottles. “We’re having a positive impact and getting some booze out of it at the end,” Neil says. “What more could you want?” stdavidskitchen.co.uk stdavids.wales
THE SUSTAINABLE SMOKERY LLYS MEDDYG
I smell the smoke shed before I see it. There’s no fire today, but the slightly sweet, woody scent still hangs in the air.
This little shack in the pretty, daffodildotted garden at Llys Meddyg, a restaurant with nine rooms in Newport, is where Ed Sykes and his team smoke their own salmon. Beneath a blossoming cherry tree, Ed tells me that the smokery was born of a desire to add value to the local catch.
“We all want to look after our next-door neighbours,” he says. “But after 12 months, I was still struggling to get a consistent supply of fish. I realised that the only way of getting a reliable source of sustainable fish for our restaurant was through sustainable farming.”
Inside, the wood-fired oven is ablaze and the first diners are arriving at candlelit tables. Parts of the house — which has served as everything from a Georgian coaching inn to a doctor’s surgery — date back to the 14th century, but the restaurant has a modern feel, its dark walls adorned with bright paintings. I take a seat at a table overlooking the garden, where dahlias and roses were grown and sent to Covent Garden market during the post-war years. Now the soil is used for growing fresh veg and herbs for the kitchen, and I spot lettuces, onions and kale in raised beds.
The menu delivers seasonal produce in unexpected ways. Among the starters are cauliflower finessed with wild garlic and toasted seeds; torched mackerel with carrots in a maple and sesame glaze; and the housesmoked salmon, which tastes as exquisite as it looks. It comes adorned with slivers of fresh orange, pickled fennel and walnut, adding a satisfying crunch.
Pointed cabbage infused for more than 24 hours with miso is a highlight of the mains, leaving me wondering how this humble vegetable can taste quite so good. The answer, Ed believes, is in its seasonality. “Eating seasonally means you’re eating food that belongs to the landscape — it’s fresh, and tastes a hell of a lot better,” he says. llysmeddyg.com