[Disclosure: We paid in full at The Mariners. They didn’t know I was a blogger]
Rock in winter is an eerie place. As you wander down the hill to the estuary and its views across to Padstow – both of which have served to help make it one of the most exclusive places in the country – there’s a spooky silence.
The millionaire mansions, full of families enjoying summer at their second home, are empty at this time of year. So are the driveways. And the buoys out on the water that in summer are each attached to the hundreds of boats that provide the daytime activity for the crowds that descend.
What isn’t empty is The Mariners, Paul Ainsworth’s pub that perches virtually on the estuary’s edge, its two-storey terrace no doubt providing the perfect place to look out at the action that ramps up on the water throughout the summer.
I’ve been to The Mariners before, years ago, before it was relaunched by Paul and Emma Ainsworth in 2019. It was pretty good then, and apparently just as good – if not better – now, given it’s just been billed number five in the Top 50 Gastropubs in the country.
Read more – Review: Paul Ainsworth at No. 6
While the rest of Rock is eerily deserted on a midweek February evening, The Mariners is a hive of activity. Not when we first arrive, thanks to an early booking, which means we get even more of the warm attention that makes you feel like you’re in a local boozer rather than a gastropub owned by one of the country’s more famous chefs in a place sometimes dubbed ‘Chelsea-on-Sea’.
Like the relaxed welcome, the decor isn’t too over-the-top. Just nice pub vibes. The fire’s roaring and it feels cosy on a cold evening. The menu, too, is world’s away from the Michelin star offering at No. 6. Think fish and chips, burgers and pies. There’s fish, of course, as well as salads and sandwiches, along with small plates including things like scotch eggs or rarebit, that could be either snack or starter.
It looks like a pub. It feels like a pub. But a quick look at the prices and you’ll remember The Mariners is no ordinary pub. That said, I’m not sure it’s much more pricey than lots of places in this neck of the woods, an there’s also a set menu option available for weekdays that’s £26 for three courses, which is great value. So there is an option for the savers among us, or you can just resign yourself to parting with a bit of cash somewhere that you might not ordinarily get to, and get on with enjoying yourself.
And enjoy ourselves we do. Starting with a Cornish Tamworth’s & sage Scotch egg with piccalilli relish. Mainly because on a visit to Sharp’s Brewery earlier on the same day, we were told this and a pint of Doom Bar is the perfect pairing.
I can confirm it is, the herb-laced scotch egg and punchy piccalilli balanced out by the malty, slightly sweet ale. The piccalilli’s actually some of the best I’ve had, packed with plenty of tart tanginess to cut through the jammy egg yolk and rich sausage meat. Pub grub, but done good.
Oysters here come fried, with tartare sauce that again, is kind of the star of the show. Crunchy and piquant, but creamy too. The perfect pairing with the sweet, crispy oyster. Game on.
Which in our case is an extravagant Cote de Boeuf. A touch OTT for a school night, but when in Rome and all that. It’s a good call. Perfectly cooked – proving the apology from the kitchen for a brief wait while it rested entirely unnecessary, though lovely all the same.
The meat’s great, as it should be. But every accompaniment hits the spot too. Onion rings in Doom Bar batter that adds that little extra dimension of flavour. A Caesar salad that nearly steals the show thanks to its perfect presentation, fresh anchovies, more of those golden-yolked eggs, and the whole plate smothered in an avalanche of finely-grated aged parmesan.
Then there are the triple cooked chips that almost feel like they might have to be left given how much other food has just appeared, but prove for mopping up what is a rather perfect green peppercorn sauce.
It’s simple, but brilliantly done. Decent ingredients, treated with the respect they should be, served without too much fuss, but just enough to remind you you’re in a decent place. Washed down with a bottle of Portuguese red that at £36 is one of the cheapest on the menu, but plenty nice enough for us heathens.
As temping as the puddings – which are more nostalgic home cooking comfort food than minute morsels of sweetness – are, we’re too full so opt for cocktails by the fire instead. Nespresso martini for him, a delightful Maple Old Fashioned for me.
We end the night lounging by the fire, full and happy, with the happy chatter of a busy pub around us. As we step out into the silence of Rock in the winter, it feels less eerie. Instead, we luxuriate in a wander back up the hill without 4x4s steaming past, or light pouring from huge floor to ceiling windows or security lights protecting people’s summer residences. Just the warm glow of an evening well spent.
