Three hours from London, a new creative and gastronomic identity is being developed in a rural county called Somerset.
Tom Calver, a cheesemaker at Westcombe Dairy, said, "We're attempting to create a taste of a specific area. That location is the county of Somerset, where hedgerows brimming with cow parsley and wildflowers connect a patchwork of lush pastures. Telephone poles are consumed by ivy, while Friesian and Ayrshire dairy cow herds wander the hills as morning mists collect in valleys.
In recent years, Somerset, located three hours west of London, has attracted ex-city people who have relocated to eastern Somerset towns like Bruton and Frome. With independent stores, boutique hotels, and restaurants that have a hyperlocal attitude, a new young generation is building on the tradition of this abundant area, which was previously known for its cheddar and West Country cider.
Calver took me on a tour of his cool hillside-carved cheese cellar. Around 5,000 rounds of cheddar were placed on wooden racks, and Tina the Turner, a robot, was busy flipping the boulder-like behemoths. The Westcombe team has cultivated a complex seed variety of grasses, legumes, and herbs on its farm to take a more regenerative approach in recent years. When discussing how what the cows consume "is reflected in the quality of the cheese, especially if you're not pasteurizing it," Calver added, "We're emphasizing the microbiological variety of the soil."
The Dairy Shop, which contained wheels of beech-smoked cheddar and Westcombe's charcuterie, was located beyond a cracked white barn door. I bit into a conventional cloth-bound Somerset cheddar slice; it had a nutty, caramel-sweet flavor and was only a bit wild.
The Newt in Somerset, a hotel on a 1,000-acre farming estate with a strong connection to its Somerset past, shares this comprehensive perspective on the land. The 17th-century Hadspen House, where the Newt launched its first hotel rooms, is surrounded by gardens and historic woodlands; nevertheless, new lodgings debuted on the property in June 2021. I rode an electric buggy through miles of new orchards under a battered blue sky to the Farmyard, which was previously a collection of dairy-farm structures, to stay there.
One has been transformed into the Farmyard Kitchen, a vast stone, wood, and glass area. I hurried inside for dinner as rain lashed the nearby slopes and animals sought cover under crooked trees. An open kitchen produced exquisite tapas-style dishes, most of which contained products from the Newt's gardens.
The estate's head chef, Alan Stewart, explained the following morning as we walked around the produce garden, "The soil drives the food here." French beans, brassicas, and summer squash grew in neat rows between ponds with brick linings home to great crested newts. Stewart continued, "I try to encourage the chefs to visit the garden at least once daily. "It focuses a lot on cooking from the ground up."
Paul Ross, the head cidermaker, is also assisting Newt in becoming one of England's pioneering cidermakers. The estate grows 70 different apple kinds, most of which are native to Somerset, according to the information I acquired on a tour of the press and cellar, which includes imposing stainless-steel fermenting tanks. One of these, the Dabinett, is utilized to create a single-varietal, oak-barrel-aged beverage that significantly diverges from the more typical blended versions. The Fine Cyder was light, aromatic, and winelike, while the Winston Sparkling Cyder was a dry, champagne-style cider with overtones of crisp green apple.
I then went to Frome, a honey-colored market town. Catherine Hill, a steep, cobblestoned lane lined with stores selling country flowers, handcrafted women's clothing, and Somerset sourdough, is located within the town's small, medieval core. I snuck into Ground, an artist in Fi Underhill's ceramics studio and store. Behind the cheerful yellow facade, with its window overflowing with colorful helichrysums and dried tansies, were shelves lined with cream-colored bowls, pink pour-over sets, and grey mugs with specks. Elegant white dishes, still dusty from last night's glazing, were arranged on a big table.
When Hauser & Wirth erected a gallery on Durslade Farm in 2014, Bruton, Frome's swankier relative to the south, transformed into a cultural powerhouse. Small yet formidable, Bruton's high street features lifestyle stores that support British manufacturers. Highlights include the Scandi-chic Caro, whose products include chocolates flavored with pine, juniper, and other natural flavors and smudge sticks made from wild white sage.
The boutique hotel Number One Bruton, which has four new rooms in a former medieval forge, is located across the street. Mine featured pink-striped curtains, exposed beams, and patterned lampshades; it was a summery beauty. To provide products like handmade goat-milk soap, cheese, milk, honey, and cider for guests to enjoy in their rooms, proprietor Claudia Waddams, a native of Somerset, drew on her network of local craftsmen.
In January 2021, the hotel's little Osip restaurant received a Michelin star. The young chef Merlin Labron-Johnson told me, "We're not exclusively vegetarian." But the concept is that the food we provide is determined by what comes out of the Ground.
Most of the food in my six-course lunch at Osip came from the nearby terrain evoked by the natural palette of stone and wood used there. Smoky yellow zucchini scrolls had citrus and cold, creamy ricotta within, and a delicate sheep's milk pudding was sitting in a cool elderflower and white peach compote. By the end of 2023, Labron-Johnson hopes to be completely self-sufficient in fruits, vegetables, and herbs. The majority of what is provided is produced in his fields. Because I grow everything myself and am the chef, there is a certain amount of synergy, and he continued, "It's fairly easy to handle."
His most recent business, the Old Pharmacy, which opened in a nearby location in July 2021, is also stocked with produce from his garden. This unpretentious grocer, café, and wine bar offer small meals such as roasted Fratelli peppers with smoked cod roe and staples like Osip's raw honey.
A church bell rang in the distance as I walked by stone cottages covered in roses and field gates hidden by dense brambles. I ascended a hill that was topped by an isolated limestone dovecote. At its feet, a meadow danced as cows grazed there. Bruton, the golden town that the calm river Brue traced, lay deep in the valley in front of me. A panorama you could almost taste, rising in all directions beyond, were patches of copper beech and bold green hills dolloped like mounds of delicious cream.