Quite possibly the Isle of Wight’s best-kept secret, the superb setting is more than matched by the quality of the food here
It started, as all the best British summer stories do, in the rain. Arriving at Colwell Bay on the Isle of Wight – soggy, and clinging to our optimism like our clothes clung to our bodies – we disembarked from our transfer wondering whether this was, in fact, a mad idea. But as we took our seats and gazed across the Solent, it seemed hardly feasible somehow that we’d left Waterloo station barely two hours ago. Despite the rain, the crossing (in our very own chartered yacht, no less) was smooth as silk and, in stark contrast to our dampness, as soon as we stepped inside, the atmosphere was buzzing, with a vibe as lively as it was friendly. As the first glass of rosé was poured, all memories of rainy crossings melted away.
If you haven’t heard of The Hut, you won’t be alone; the island itself flies fairly under the radar, but is heaven for family holidays on unspoilt, sandy beaches, beautiful countryside, and a general air of a slower pace of life. Knowing the island relatively well, I wasn’t therefore quite expecting what awaited us behind The Hut’s doors. Set right on the water at Colwell Bay, this is where the yachting crowd from the Solent and super-smart Londoners in Breton stripes converge for lazy lunches that last until closing – quite the scene. No buckets and spades here.
We started with a line-up of dishes that felt like a love letter to the sea
What was here was ridiculously good cocktails, from an extensive list; we chose from the aperitifs, a refreshing Lonkero – Salcombe Sainte Marie, Campari, Gomme, grapefruit soda and lemonade – for me, and a Cucumber Sake Martini for him, a blend of Akashi-Tai Shiraume Umeshu, Lillet Blanc and cucumber peel that was as delectable as it was With a setting as beautiful as this, it would be easy for a kitchen to become complacent – let the view do the talking as they dial it in. This is emphatically not the case here. We started with a line-up of dishes that felt like a love letter to the sea. The crab salad was a work of art: cool avocado, a whisper of Togarashi, dotted with pearls of caviar and lifted by a citrusy yuzu mayo. The fish tacos were generous and punchy, slick with Baja sauce and green mole, and scattered with coriander like confetti. Scallops and pork belly came seared to a silky finish, with XO dressing bringing a deep umami hum. But the sleeper hit was the mackerel – sharp green tomato gribiche, ikura, and a tang of yuzu pear, all cooled by dill yoghurt. It was smart food that didn’t shout about itself.
Then came the main event: a whole John Dory, caught that morning and served like an altar offering, on a huge platter surrounded by Roscoff onions, new potatoes, Isle of Wight tomatoes, and bathed in a trio of sauces: sauce vierge, chive beurre blanc, and chimichurri. Regular readers will know my stance on tomatoes, and let me just say: Isle of Wight ones are different. Jess, our angelic waitress, agreed. We bonded over their sweetness and intensity, which she told me is down to the island’s microclimate – all that sunshine and sea air.
There were at least two points where we should have headed back to the ferry. But when the rosé flows like that and the sun reappears, what’s the rush? To better match our moods, the sun finally appeared, the roof was rolled back and we moved to the terrace to take in the sunset views and the sea air. We re-ordered the tacos. We rearranged our ferry (twice). Technically, by the time we arrived back home, it was the next day, pushing the concept of ‘a holiday in a day’ to its outer extremes. But as life gets ever busier, having world-class dining, in such a beautiful sea-edge setting, just a short journey away, made the next such holiday seem a whole lot closer. Next weekend, anyone?
