The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
‘You can drink to your heart’s content, dine, then sleep’
Tillingham vineyard now has bedrooms, so visitors to its uber-cool restaurant and tasting rooms can now stay over in style. Jade Conroy checks in
In the first lockdown (and the second and third? It’s a blur), Friday evening visits to my local wine shop became ritualised. If I wasn’t spending money on going out, then it was surely acceptable to spend more money on wine. This is where I first discovered Tillingham, a biodynamic wine outfit in East Sussex started by the former CEO of Gusbourne, a Kent winery. Its statement labels – in acid hues, with huge lettering or snazzy singular patterns – popped from the shelves. Tillingham’s rosé pet nat, a fizzy mouth bomb that is equal parts sweet, tangy and farmy, added pizzazz to my otherwise dull weeks that continued, seemingly forever, between TV and turmoil.
So it was with much excitement that I ventured to Tillingham Winery for an overnight stay one weekend late this summer. Just before the pandemic, 11 bedrooms joined the restaurant, bar and shop. Guests can drink to their heart’s content and dine on some of the area’s best local produce then roll up to bed (or one of two new bell tents) before tables are even cleared.
At the centre of the 70-acre estate is a collection of repurposed farm buildings that house the rooms and public spaces. The timber structures have been dressed up in corrugated metal, giving them an industrial sheen. Acres of rolling, pea-green vines that shoot southwards are visible through sliding picture windows that remain open in fine weather and soften the harsh edges. That view, which can also be seen from the terrace, reaches the rooftops of Rye and the glittering sea at Camber Sands, all white sand dunes and endless horizon. When it’s clear you can even see the hulking outline of Dungeness’s eerie power station.
If it’s modern sylvan farm estate on the outside, inside it’s new-gen vineyard: black wood-panelled walls punctuated with fishing lights; polished concrete floors; strip lighting; neon signs; lamps adorned with Picassoesque faces; and mismatched chairs (wire, cane, leather director’s chairs) and tables in the bar and restaurant. Abundant vases of wildflowers, plucked from the estate, plus statement pieces of modern art, add colour, and, in the small reception an enormous moon-like globe hangs over guests, a fun nod to ancient wine methods – more on which later. Rooms, like the wine labels, use colour, texture and patterns, such as multi-coloured weaved PVC chairs and batik pillows.
There’s also an open-sided Dutch barn with hay bale seating and a pizza oven, which turns out interesting combinations such as anchovy, salted cherries and capers to Down-From-Londons and fashionable families at the weekend. A double conical-roofed oast house, next to the pig sty, completes the picture. In the 19th century, this would have been used for drying hops – not so any more. Beneath the eaves are terracotta qvevri pots (originally used in ancient Georgian and Armenian winemaking methods), and tables set up for the tastings.
The sessions are led by Lucy, who educates guests in the context, history and details of the biodynamic, closedloop process at Tillingham, which includes minimal intervention (so only natural pesticides) and using feet for the maceration process (to extract flavour), while filling up people’s glasses.
We learned that their “négociant” wines (bought from elsewhere but grown here) come from neighbours in Kent, Essex and Sussex. Their first ever harvest of their own vines was last year, and they produced a small batch – so small that they are served in 500ml bottles, available to buy in the shop or at dinner.
One of their domain wines, which currently features in the tasting, is Athingmill – not technically a wine, owing to its make-up of 60 per cent grapes and 40 per cent apples (they also make a decent Pét-Nat fine cider here, too, with apples from a neighbouring orchard).
The Athingmill – which is red sherbetcoloured, extra bubbly and extra fun; a drink for celebrations – undergoes fermentation in the qvevri pots. We also tried a crisp and slightly sour white blend, a fresh, orangey rosé, and a wellrounded pinot noir served cold.
Then for dinner. Head chef Tom Ryalls – who has worked at the likes of St John and Moro in London – creates a short set menu that is big on local bounty. A quartet of starters included a rainbow of Tillingham’s own tomatoes with cucumber and lovage; runner beans with a crunchy anchovy sauce; and charred corn-on-the-cob loaded with salty shrimp butter. No plate was left unmopped by the pillowy focaccia served alongside it. Next came lamb, its fat crispy and complementary of the salty lentils, kale and salsa verde, and brown butter potatoes. Proceedings end with an optional cheese course plus dessert – perhaps chunky almond cake with Kentish strawberries and cream. Animated and effervescent sommelier Tierney will take you through the wine list or pairings – many of which represent biodynamic brilliance.
Ryalls’ menu is worth a visit whether you are staying or not (and it’s good value too, at £45 minus the wine flight, which is £36). Though you’d miss breakfast, which is also a feast, of locally pressed apple juice, homemade granola with yogurt, and soft-boiled eggs with local coppa ham and Ogleshield cheese.
Like Ryalls, many of the staff have worked at some of the best restaurants in London. They are all wonderfully approachable. Conor, the general manager, told me he was off to Dungeness’s Fish Hut for lobster rolls on his day off (tip: get there early). I’ve got a new wine bar to visit in London from Tierney. A chat with Marissa at checkout led me to some of Rye’s best antique shops and lunch at Water Lane, a just-opened restaurant in a beautiful old Victorian walled garden in neighbouring Kent, where you dine on the likes of crystal cucumbers with shrimp and summer beans doused in hazelnut, ricotta and basil. You can bring home-cut flowers grown just feet away from you. It ended up being another highlight of the weekend. Along with, of course, the coralcoloured Athingmill bottle I left with.
If it is modern sylvan farm estate on the outside, inside it is new-gen vineyard