The Rose, Deal

A stroll along the High Street in Deal reveals a town very much at the forefront of the wider Kentish food revolution. There seem to be more than the usual number of artisan butchers and fishmongers for what is otherwise a fairly small (albeit very quaint) seaside town. There's a healthy amount of interesting delis with a bewildering range of specialities, from Arno's with their home made tarmasalata and aubergine kasundi (a type of Bengali mustard sauce), to Filberts' fresh game pies and organic sourdough, to the impeccably tasteful cheese selection at the enigmatically-titled No Name Shop. And there are more natural wine bars, microbreweries and, er, whatever it is you call somewhere selling fiercely strong local cider, than you can even count. This is somewhere you can eat and drink well.

At the centre of it all, presiding over the activity below like a stern Victorian schoolmistress in charge of an unruly - if talented - flock, is the Rose, a sturdy, attractively symmetrical building whose fortunes have followed that of Deal itself for the best part of 200 years. In the early days it was one of the smartest joints in town for drinking, dining and smoking (all three were equally important back then) but time eventually took its toll and in the 1980s it slumped back into a more straightforward lager-and-crisps boozer. However, in 2018 it once again became a very comfortable hotel and the downstairs menu revamped under the eye of chef Nuno Mendes.

Now, I am not so naive as to think Mendes has much to do with the cooking day-to-day. I know how these "chef consultant" gigs work - "give them a couple of recipes, take the cash and leave them to it" seems to be how it works most of the time (is that too cynical?) but I like to think there's more than a hint of his inventive flair in the "wild garlic vinegar" dressing which accompanied these fresh Maldon oysters, which seasoned and sharpened the seafood without overwhelming the flavour. Very clever stuff.

But these were merely "snacks". Of the starters proper, all extremely reasonably priced at £11-£12, cured sea bass was the most striking, a colourful arrangement of raw fish and pickled fruit and veg, all complimenting the main ingredient while adding texture and zing. Leaves of sea purslane draped over the top added a sharp note of the sea, but rhubarb and pickled plums were intelligent and exciting additions.

Burrata - perfectly lovely in of itself, was presented alongside what is fast becoming the post-St-John holy trinity of seasonal English vegetables, fresh peas, broad beans and nasturtium. We particularly enjoyed, too, a layer of salty breadcrumbs which soaked up the olive oil to make a kind of rustic crunchy dressing.

Asparagus were covered in a irresistable cheese hollandaise and would have been perfect if they'd stopped there, but I'm afraid the "yeast crisps" dropped on top were chewy and, well, a bit pointless.

Mains followed the theme of being mainly brilliant, but occasionally not. Good news first - roast rack of lamb was a hugely generous portion, cooked nicely pink and accompanied by a wonderfully rich and vibrant mixture of wild garlic, radish and sorrel (and also too, I think, some more chunks of asparagus). There was a lot of fat on the lamb which probably could have survived a judicious trimming, or perhaps a bit more rendering time, but otherwise it was a very pleasant thing indeed.

Is it a bit old fashioned to expect the main ingredient to be visible when a dish arrives on the table? Hake - very nicely cooked, don't get me wrong - was completely buried under a giant mound of wild mushrooms and though it all tasted very nice and the seaweed broth was a particularly interesting side note, there's nothing like seeing a great big gleaming white chunk of fish to get the pulse racing. Other than that, all good.

But unfortunately we found nothing to recommend the 'charred heritage tomatoes' at all. I can understand the necessity of a vegan main on a gastropub menu in 2023, but there are ways of doing these things that don't mean you end up with something tasting like it had come from a plastic pot off the shelves at M&S. Completely devoid of flavour, texture and interest of any kind, this was an entirely pointless concession to vegetarianism that only served to demonstrate that the kitchen had no interest in vegetarianism at all. And I'm afraid these days, that's not good enough.

Desserts, thank god, turned things round again. Rhubarb and frangipane tart was moist and full of summery flavour, and the set cream (sort of like a cross between clotted cream and custard, as far as we could tell) was a very interesting accompaniment.

Ice cream sandwich suffered very slightly from freezer burn, and the biscuits were a little soggy, but it still had a good flavour. Maybe it had just been hanging around in the freezer a bit too long.

And finally chocolate ganache was marvellously gooey and thick - almost like a chocolate fudge - with the 'seaweed caramel' fortunately not tasting of seaweed but instead packing a nice strong punch of butter and sugar.

So yes, there were downs alongside the ups, but overall it's hard to dislike what they're doing at the Rose. One incident aside, where a glass of dessert wine was left tantalisingly just out of reach for almost as long as it took us to polish off our desserts, service was friendly and attentive, and I should also put in a good word for whoever designed the table layout - there was a very pleasant distance between diners and the handsome dining room felt spacious and comfortable.

As the flagship gastropub for a foodie town, the Rose has a lot resting on its solid Victorian shoulders. And much like the town of Deal itself, there's a lot to love if you ignore the odd rough edge, and as long as you're not a vegan you will probably enjoy the Rose very much indeed. With a bill of £63/head, too, not holding back on the booze, it's also very good value - this is very much at the lower end of what you might expect to pay for three courses and wine these days. In a part of the world not short of great places to eat, the Rose more than holds its own. And you can't ask for much more than that.

7/10