[Disclosure: I was invited to The Dining Room for a complimentary meal. We paid for our drinks]
Once upon a time – at least when I first started going to Cornwall – Rock was ‘that place across the water from Padstow’. As a child, it was where my friend’s family would take us to launch their boat from. It was where the serious boating people hung out. And the seriously well off people, with big houses and glorious views, the bounties of Padstow close enough but not too close, and glorious beaches on their doorstep. The latter part is still true. Take a wander through Rock and I defy you not to be staggered by the sheer amount of money floating around.
But it’s also evolved into a bit of a foodie place in its own right. Yes, there were always a few places. But on my most recent visit I couldn’t help but notice quite how many more there are. Many of which have been helped by being associated with big names.
The Mariners is Paul Ainsworth’s (and very good it is too – I can confirm you’re not just paying for the big-name chef, but for good food and drink, a great view, and good service). There’s Fourboys, which Gordon Ramsay propelled to stardom by waxing lyrical about it. And a few other bars and little places that do pretty well out of the people who flock to Rock in the holidays, and those who come over on the ferry from Padstow to ‘see what it’s all about’.
But what these people will miss out on are the places up the hill from where the ferry lands. One of which is The Dining Room – a family-owned, fine dining restaurant that fits in here perfectly, but while offering top-notch food easily on a level with some of the more obvious spots, also comes with a generous helping of peace and quiet and calm, which can be much needed at the best of times in Cornwall, let alone in the melee of high season.
I’ll confess, I hadn’t heard of it. Probably because owners Fred and Donna and their family are too busy running their 30-cover restaurant to be focusing on an epic marketing campaign or sitting on social media 24 hours a day promoting their restaurant. And what’s heartening is that judging by how busy it was when we visited on a Thursday in April it doesn’t seem to need to. Yes, it’s fairly small, but it was busy. Always a good sign.
It’s fairly unassuming from the outside, and inside is intimate and warm, with a slight hint of formality – though not venturing into the territory of stuffy. The menu has that same fine dining feel, yet also has a clear focus on the produce, whether it’s a starter featuring Cornish gouda with Doom Bar onions, or fish-focused dishes that remind you exactly where you are, even if you can’t quite see the sea from here. (And who cares, you can see it before or after).
What kind of food is served at The Dining Room?
It’s not exorbitant, and there’s plenty of choice without it being overwhelming, with four dishes per course and some nibbles to add at the start. These include their own home-baked Seeded Treacle Bread that comes with clotted cream butter and ‘marmite and onion’ – a heavenly creation that it turns out is cream cheese mixed with marmite then topped with crispy onion. Read that again and pause for a moment. Need I say more? Even if everything goes downhill by this point, we find ourself agreeing that this is a course to remember.
There are gifts from the kitchen in the form of little beetroot meringues – gaudy in colour but subtle in flavour. They’re a little nod to the desire to push fine dining, but overall the menu is restrained, recognising that while people like innovation and aspiration, they also like good produce and simple flavour combinations, executed well.
For Jamie, this comes in the form of a pate en croute, that’s somehow rustic yet precise. It’s served with piccalilli – none of that shop-bought jar stuff that’s all sauce and no veg. This is crunchy, piquant, and punchy. Sweetness comes courtesy of a golden raisin gel, and while they’re presented in their own little areas of the plate, it’s the combination on a fork that proves that elements that are served together are often meant to be eaten together.
If Jamie’s is a straightforward, classic kind of dish, mine is the delicate counterpoint. A crispy, delicate tart case filled with Cornish Gouda that’s been transformed into a silky sauce-like consistency. On top perches sweet, crunchy new season asparagus and onions flavoured with the most local of local beers (though not technically not so – but it started here) – Doom Bar. Again, it’s a combination that isn’t crazy, but is tried, tested and satisfying.
Main courses at The Dining Room
That theme continues into the mains. A beef dish is exactly what Jamie wants. Fillet, cooked exactly as he wants it. An ox cheek ragu thet he declares ‘mega’. There’s a peppercorn sauce that’s predictably more refined than your average mid-range restaurant version, and various other additions to add colour and essentially to create the feeling of steak and chips – but elevated.
My duck dish follows a similar format. The breast, served pink, with carefully rendered fat, is as good as it gets. Confit leg comes in the form of a fritter and is a rich, crispy complementary addition. As well as solid sauce and a charred onion, it comes with maple glazed celeriac that almost steals the show – or is at least up there with the duck breast. It’s meaty and a great balance of earthy savouriness and the sweetness of maple, with its meaty texture adding a whole extra dimension to the dish.
We’ve ordered fries, which is unnecessary, but nice that we can, and a reminder that it’s the good places that don’t frown on you for wanting the simple stuff too.
Dessert and cheese
I say simple, but the dessert is not that. It sounds it, thanks to the simple moniker of ‘chocolate’, but it’s worthy of a Masterchef skills test – a kind of play on a millefeuille. Dark and white chocolate, presented as piped moussey-ganachey delights, with thin layers of pastry in between. Yoghurt ice cream, with the most delicate hint of sourness, is a good counterbalance, with a bed of pecans underneath providing a crunchy counter to what is a predominantly soft dish in the best way possible.
We’ve opted to share a dessert on the understanding we’ll then share the cheese, and turn our three courses into four. Four British cheeses, with their own menu and explanation, and a lean towards the bottom half of the country. Sharpham Savour from Totnes in Devon, Tunworth from Hampshire, Godminster Cheddar from Somerset and Oxford Blue. They team perfectly with a glass of dessert wine and we round off the meal with that warm glow of a good experience.
The Dining Room may not have received the big accolades just yet, but it’s up there with plenty of decent restaurants in this neck of the woods. In fact, I’ll stick my neck out and say that if you venture across to Padstow, the majority of restaurants – bar the obvious big names – are not a patch on this, and many are more expensive.
It feels personal, and having spoken to the family behind it, it really is. In some ways, The Dining Room is positioned in the perfect place, with a big audience for great food. In others, maybe not, given the potential to be overshadowed by some of the big names floating around that part of Cornwall.
Yet I go back to that busy, buzzy space on a Thursday out of season, the room awash with quiet conversations, happy faces, and clear repeat customers who enjoy that they do. That’s a win for sure, and enough to make me want to go back.
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