Late summer tasting menu at The Lighthouse Restaurant, Boylestone
It was fitting that we ate this particular tasting menu at The Lighthouse Restaurant on the last official day of summer, the eve of the Autumnal Equinox, as the theme of the menu was ‘late summer’.
Although we’ve eaten at this very well-regarded restaurant in the tiny village of Boylestone, near Ashbourne, twice before, as it’s a 45-minute drive each way over the border into Derbyshire from our home in the Staffordshire Moorlands, we’ve never become regulars. But that’s certainly no reflection on the food as, unsurprisingly with an award-winning Chef and Head Chef/owner, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our previous visits: those ‘Derbyshire Chef of the Year’ awards aren’t handed out for nothing.
When my companion and I set out in the early evening, with high expectations, the drive through the beautiful Moorlands and into the Derbyshire Dales couldn’t have been more apt. Almost idyllic, the golden light on the moors and hills, as we dipped and rose and winded our way, spoke of late summer with just a hint of autumn showing in the changing landscape. At one point a flock of lapwings rose up from a ploughed field and flew alongside us, the white on their undersides flashing in the lowering sun.
So, by the time we arrived at The Lighthouse, we were feeling very happy and optimistic. With such an auspicious start, could the evening really continue so well? Spoiler alert: yes, it certainly could.
If you haven’t been to The Lighthouse before, you might easily miss the signs to the restaurant and, hidden behind the Rose and Crown pub, you could end up going for a bit of a magical mystery tour. But we were familiar with the route down the side of the pub and into the parking area.
The young front of house staff was immediately very welcoming and helpful. When ID started doing test shots with his camera to check the lighting (he was to be my photographer for the evening), they asked if we wanted to move to another table where there was a conveniently placed floor lamp for him to position as he chose, which we did.
The The Lighthouse only does tasting menus and for us, who love to sample lots of different food, this was ideal – no need to fret over the opportunity cost of choosing one dish over another as we could have a taste of everything. The menu is described as eight-courses but as the first of these is comprised of three ‘snacks’ presented in succession, in reality it feels even more generous than that.
But don’t be alarmed, each item on the tasting menu is a masterpiece in miniature so even at the end we didn’t feel we’d undertaken a marathon session. The first course took a little while to arrive but after that they came in quick, but not too quick, succession.
First off was ‘the most important meal of the day’ – a nice take on breakfast which came in a porcelain half-egg sat in a regular egg box. But don’t go thinking this was an exercise in style over substance because it most certainly wasn’t. In the half-egg sat a delicious, very light potato foam with morsels of cured egg yolk, sprinkles of salty bacon and the suggestion of toast in little crunchy crouton-type bits. Sitting here now, it’s tempting to think you could happily eat a whole half dozen box of those ‘eggs’, but actually that lovely little taster was just right – a grand start that got the taste buds raring to go.
Next, sitting in a scallop shell, came an incredibly delicate little filo tart case cradling Devon crab that had been cooked in seaweed butter and with a sprinkling of red pepper powder on top.
This was intensely savoury, almost on the edge of being too salty but actually just right. There was a wonderful tang of gruyere cheese too. The tart case seemed to have been made from one sheet of filo, impossibly thin and which I felt sure would break as we picked them up, first to sniff approvingly and then eat. But, ingeniously, they held and crunched perfectly. The flavour was so delicious I surreptitiously picked up and ate the few flakes that fell to the table.
The final ‘snack’ was a mouthful of mackerel coated in a satay sauce with dashi. Mackerel is possibly my favourite fish and this was amazingly fresh, its thin skin torched so that it was flaky, crisp and wafer-like. The addition of a few grains of puffed rice gave even more texture.
I should say at this point that, although the design and décor of the restaurant is lovely, we would have appreciated just a little more light – and not just for the photographer’s convenience. The kitchen obviously goes to great lengths to make the dishes look beautiful as well as tasting wonderful, but we sometimes felt we would have liked to have seen them more clearly. The mackerel dish was a case in point; possibly the best morsel of mackerel I’ve ever had, but I don’t feel I got a proper gander at it.
The first of our courses proper was a laverbread sourdough served with a small wedge of raw cultured butter and a whirl of foie gras whipped with cream, some grains on top for texture and a drizzle of maple syrup. I’m a home sourdough maker myself and really enjoyed this bread with a lovely crunchy crust.
Our server explained that the butter came from Fen Farm Dairy in Suffolk who are the only makers in the UK of raw, cultured butter. I’m familiar with raw milk but this was new to me and the taste was incredibly rich and complex. The foie gras was lovely too, although I’d have preferred a little less maple syrup so that the taste of the foie was more distinct.
Next on the menu was a hand-dived Orkney scallop, described as being served with charcoal and alliums although, as we’ve come to expect with modern, minimally described menus, this hardly did it justice. The bowl came with a smear of lovely squid ink sauce and there were a couple of beautifully crisp squid ink crackers too. I really enjoyed the appearance of these little crispy notes throughout the courses, little surprises of taste and texture that add so much to the enjoyment of the dishes.
There was a smooth puree of what appeared to be roasted onion, some chives in cream cheese and a powdered charcoal. And I haven’t even mentioned the scallop yet… It was cooked perfectly for me; browned on the outside and only just done inside. This was a truly stunning dish which had us scraping the last remnants of sauce from the bowls with our knives.
Hardly daring to think that the next course could be as good, it may actually have been even better. The menu stated, ‘Cornish monkfish, cauliflower/mussel/curry’. A lidded bowl placed before us, and when, acting in unison, servers removed the lids a delicious, smoky aroma arose. At this point it should come as no surprise when I say that the monkfish was cooked perfectly. What you may not have guessed is that the dish appeared to be a riff on the chip shop as well as a nod to curry.
A mango chutney-like sauce and puree of curried mussel were a divine combination. I love the taste of mussels but sometimes find the texture a little challenging, so this was perfect. A couple of micro leaves of coriander on top packed a surprising amount of flavour. The overall tone of the dish, with the inclusion of raisins, made us think of the chip shop curry sauce of our youths (albeit a very, very superior chip shop curry sauce) and when we’d finished and mentioned this to our server she said that the crispy bits of tempura batter were a take on chip shop ‘scrats’. Aha!
The next plate looked stunning: a piece of crispy-skinned guinea fowl breast laid on slices of charred leek and next to it a rectangle of smoked eel sitting in a pool of hollandaise-based sauce. The plate was dressed with slivers of autumn truffle and tempura batter.
In terms of flavour, this was yet another perfect dish. I’ve eaten all the elements before but in this combination and with such skilful execution it was sublime. If I’d have been at home I’d have picked the plate up and licked it clean. Maybe I’ll do that one day in a restaurant – it’s about the greatest compliment to the chef you can get.
Beef came next, and in two distinct dishes which the waiting staff said could be eaten separately or combined. I thought they were best eaten separately as one looked typically summery and the other sounded more autumnal. First, I ate the slice of longhorn beef fillet, barbequed, and served with a tangy salsa verde, a puree of tenderstem broccoli, heritage tomatoes and a single nasturtium leaf. The beef was beautiful – the smokiness of the barbequed exterior complementing rather than overpowering the rare interior.
The accompaniments were well-judged too; light and refreshing. Not usually a fan of the flavour of nasturtium (a source of sorrow to me as they run rampant in my garden), trusting the chefs here, I even ate that single, delicate leaf and I didn’t dislike it. That counts as success, I think.
The second beef dish was a lasagne of ox cheek and courgette in a smoky ragu, topped with Parmesan foam. The ragu was sweet and smoky, the little chunks of courgette, surprisingly, even smokier. The light foam on top was intensely rich with Parmesan. We reached for some little spoons to make sure we got every little bit of sauce from the dishes.
After a short break, we turned to desserts where I have to confess that I had not been immediately bowled over by reading the menu . The first dessert was described as a passionfruit cheesecake, the second a chocolate tree trunk. Passionfruit is probably my least favourite fruit and, although I occasionally eat chocolate or might make some chocolate brownies, I only order a chocolate dessert in a restaurant if there’s really nothing else I fancy. But, from what I’d tasted earlier in the evening, I knew I was in safe hands so felt more confident that I was going to like them both.
When it arrived, looking wonderful, I was pleased that the cheesecake was not dominated by passionfruit but had a good kick of lime – one of my favourite flavours – along with mango. There was a good quantity of buttery biscuit crumb too, which for me is a big plus point, and some lovely little pieces of beetroot merengue, earthy and chewy. And the passionfruit? I think I may actually be a convert – certainly in this tart and refreshing rather than overly sweet guise.
Before we ate our chocolate dessert came a piece of theatre. A dish of summer leaves was placed on the table and, after our plates put in front of us, an essence poured over, creating a pleasant fog that rippled over the table and around the plates giving off an invigorating citrus smell.
The chocolate tree trunk came with a branch of bitter chocolate coming out of the top and this, along with sea salty caramel sauce, meant that this dessert was also much to my taste in not being too sweet.
The trunk was filled with light milky foam and stood upright on a thick, mousse-like confection. For me, this was the only element of the dish I didn’t entirely like; the mousse obviously needed to be quite thick so that the trunk was secure in the upright position, but I felt this had given it a texture that coated the mouth a little which I wasn’t a big fan of. However, the little semi sphere of ice cream alongside and a nice amount of biscuit crumb strewn about meant that all was forgiven and that this pudding could be added to shortish list of those where I say, ‘I don’t usually like chocolate desserts, but…’
Apart from the little ‘takeaway’ box containing a lovely square of biscuit, caramel and raspberry which we were given on leaving, that completed our meal.
The Lighthouse recommends you allow around two and a half hours to enjoy their tasting menu and I’d say that was just about bang on. The cost is £55 per person which I think is excellent considering the quality of the ingredients, the imagination, incredible knowledge, skill and labour that has gone in to creating these dishes, not to mention the three excellent front of house staff on duty to attend to the twelve diners on the Thursday evening we were there.
If you don’t want to eat the full tasting menu then there’s a five course version at £45 (except Fridays and Saturdays) but I’d really encourage you to try the full one if you can. At the time of writing, there’s a £35 offer, with limited availability.
The Lighthouse describes its goals in this way:
“We aim to offer more than just food on a plate; a two hour long sequence of dishes that each offer something unique, be it nostalgia, intrigue or just powerful flavour”.
Judging by the evening we had, Head Chef and owner Jon Hardy, along with Chef George Bloor and the rest of their team have certainly achieved success on their own terms, much to the benefit and delight of diners seeking something really special.
In the dark of the near-Autumn evening, our drive back to the Moorlands may not have been as scenic as our outward journey, but we left even more content and determined to visit this gem more often.