[Disclosure: I was invited to dine at Kota for this blog. We paid for all our drinks]
I’ve seen Jude Kereama described as one of the most friendly chefs out there, and if you watch him bounce through his restaurant mid-service, smiling from ear to ear, stopping to chat to diners, then you can see firsthand that that’s certainly not any kind of urban myth.
What’s even more impressive is that he’s still doing that just a week after taking a pretty extreme move to ensure the future of his restaurants in what we can all agree is one o the difficult periods hospitality has been through in a very long time.
Rising rates, energy costs, ingredients skyrocketing, and very little support from the government, means bricks and mortar restaurants, despite being the dream of every aspiring chef, are a huge shackle round the necks of any business owner right now. And nobody is immune. Even some of the chefs who have become regulars on our TV screens have had to call it a day, because the losses are simply too huge.
Even cutesy Cornish towns like Porthleven, home of Kereama’s Kota restaurant and sister restaurant Kota Kai – are susceptible to all the same challenges, arguably more so in winter when so many people ditch the English coastline to either stay home or flee to far-flung climes. Which is why Kereama made the bold move to literally pick up one of his restaurants and rehome it within the other one.
On paper it sounds bonkers. How do you put two restaurants – each with their very own unique character – under the same roof? Kota is fine dining, serving up a tasting menu that allows you try dishes of the same style you might have watched Kereama cooking on Great British Menu at one point. Kai is more casual. The lights are brighter, it does lunches as well as dinners, and it’s just a bit more bouncy.
It’s like sending two very different people on a date and seeing if they can occupy the same space without clashing monumentally. And that’s before you even get to practical stuff like the small matter of how two teams share a kitchen.
First Impressions of Kota at Kota Kai
Yet somehow, sitting in what was once the lounge of Kota Kai but has been transformed into fine dining Kota, looking out onto the harbour lights of Porthleven, with a very well made Vesper Martini in my hand, I’m convinced that it’s actually a genius move.
We’ve arrived through Kota Kai, where a big table is celebrating a birthday and people are enjoying one of its popular nights showcasing different Asian cuisine. Front of house direct us left instead of right, past the busy kitchen and into a room where the lighting is low, the decor calm, and the music relaxing.
Given the move happened relatively recently, you’d never know. I’d not seen the space in its previous incarnation, but this feels like a restaurant that’s always been here, helping by the fact the it’s the same experienced Kota team at the helm. Through the door we can see Kota Kai and hear the bustle, but it doesn’t interrupt or invade. It’s just there, buzzing in the background in just the right way.
The menu at Kota
At £60 for four courses and bread, plus the option of a wine pairing for £40, I don’t think you can argue with the value. There’s a choice of two dishes for each course, or three for dessert, and you’re probably going to want to add the optional oysters to kick things off. Because why wouldn’t you?
The one served natural with a rhubarb ginger mignonette and a poke of horseradish is good, but its the version that’s encased in a crispy potato coating that hits the spot, the crunch giving away to the fat creamy oyster inside. If the martini and the crystal clear clarified Mai Tai that we had on arrival hadn’t got us excited, these do the job, and serve to ensure that Kereama’s grin was replicated on our own faces before we even hit ‘Course 1’.
An octopus and mussel escabeche is the winner for me. An exercise in textures, from the well-judged chew on the octopus to the soft mussels and crispy squid ink tostada. Fruits of the sea, virtually on the harbourside, exactly as it should be. Unless you’re my husband, who will fight you to the death over the beef tartare that was elevated from the ordinary with bone marrow as well as gojuchang, accentuating the umami that’s already there.
It’s at this point that we decide to abandon our car in Porthleven for the night and get a taxi home, because it’s just too good an experience already not to go all in and enjoy a few more of those cocktails and maybe some wine.
Decision made, we embrace the joy that continues by way of a crab raviolo, sat like an island in the middle of a spicy bisque sea. It somehow has all the lightness of crab that reminds you of summer days in seaside towns, yet the heat of the bisque and heartiness of the dish fits just as well on a cold Cornish evening gazing out at the rain from the warmth of a cosy restaurant.
And it does feel cosy – thanks in part to the careful way this space has been hastily converted, and also due to the fact it fills up soon after we arrive. Clearly a reminder that people don’t necessarily come to restaurants for their walls, they come for their food.
If the crab offers a hint of heartiness, the alternative pork cheek dish brings it in bucketloads. Braised in cider and soy so they’re not only rich and umami but tender as can be, the meat is piled on top of silky pomme puree. Crispy shallots add that extra dimension to the texture, and there’s a parmesan foam just in case the whole thing wasn’t indulgent enough for you.
In any other world, that kind of dish would be on your main and you’d be galloping towards the dessert menu and a taxi home. But not here. It may be hearty and indulgent, but it’s well-sized to make sure you’ve got room for course three.
Nori-wrapped plaice feels like a bit of a play on sushi, the fish held into perfect discs by the seaweed. It’s got an earthy quality to it, with sea vegetables bringing bouncing off apple to bring savoury, sweet and a freshness, with everything brought together by a mouclade sauce that’s creamy with a delicate hint of curry.
It’s great, but I can’t take my eyes off ‘Duck 2025’. Breast, cooked perfectly, served with a croustillant of slow-cooked meat that I think must be from the leg. Root vegetables not only remind us that we’re in autumn and fast on the approach to winter, but also that you should never naively assume that restaurants by the sea only do fish and can’t serve up classic meat dishes in all the right ways just when you need them most.
For those of us who always struggle to choose between a dessert and a cheese board, Kota has the answer. Blue cheese ice cream, served with pear poached in port. Candied walnuts add crunch and sweetness, and you can’t help but feel like you’re eating a cheeseboard – just in the form of a dessert.
For those with a sweeter tooth, apple crumble is reincarnated as soft serve ice cream with a biscuity crunch on top and a salted miso caramel that’s tempting to ask for an extra jug of but we resist. Both desserts, like all of the courses, are well judged in size – bridging the gap between fine dining sometimes feeling a bit fiddly and tasting menus getting unwieldy. It’s a decent amount of food, with a hearty yet refined feel to it – for a more than reasonable price tag.
Why you should visit Kota in Porthleven
But forget all that. It’s never just the food is it. It’s the smile it leaves you with, the moments you remember – like the moment my husband developed an addiction to Mai Tais thanks to that clarified version. The fact we’ve been debating making blue cheese ice cream ever since. And the sad knowledge that we may not be able to replicate that duck or those pig’s cheeks so might just have to come to Kota again.
All that in a new space, created out of necessity rather than a dream, but executed with passion, flair and creativity by someone who will do pretty much whatever it takes to keep their restaurants going. And all with a smile on his face.
