The eastern edge of Kent has firmly established itself as a gastronomic enclave, with Whitstable and Margate in Thanet, but also, increasingly, the coastal town of Deal. Just on Deal’s High Street alone the sourdoughification process has been underway for some time, with Frog and Scot, various emporia, delis and bougie wine bars, whilst just outside of town is the impossibly idyllic Updown Farmhouse.
Perhaps catching up with Margate’s ‘Shoreditch-on-Sea’ reputation, Deal is attracting talented chefs and the locals very much benefit from it (it’s also just an hour and 20 minutes away from St Pancras so beautifully lends itself to a seaside sojourn). One such chef is the legendary Nuno Mendes who oversees the cooking at pub and boutique hotel The Rose (revamped in 2018). While the owners of The Rose have since opened a Japanese-leaning sister restaurant, The Blue Pelican (with Luke Green as head chef), there was sadly not enough time or stomach space to visit both in one day. In a case of culinary eeny, meeny, miny, moe The Rose won on this occasion, but one of the great things about this small town is its burgeoning choice: you don’t get a raw deal in Deal.
What job interviews, auditions, dates and restaurants all have in common is we form an impression within 30 seconds and spend the rest of the time together confirming or challenging that initial impression. On walking in, all windswept from the blustery promenade, the welcome was warm and accommodating, and I left having confirmed the service here is utterly lovely (and there will be a follow-up visit). And whilst Mendes – a self-confessed “viajante” – is rarely physically present (how can be with restaurants in London, Lisbon and Porto?), you feel his presence in the cuisine.
The cooking has all the quiet self-assurance of a bay leaf
Having arrived a wee bit early for the reservation, it was no bother at all to have a Negroni on the terrace at the back first (indeed, they actively encouraged the idea whilst the barman pleasingly made the Negroni from scratch). However, the fences around the terrace proved to be an insufficient shield from the Brexit breeze so the main event took place indoors.
Segueing into the lunch proper, I’m glad I kept an open mind about the tomato martini to accompany the stuffed olives. Some of these twists on martinis have started to get quite silly – I’ve had sprout, blue cheese and bone marrow martinis at various bars and have been dubious about them all (though the latter does give you a hankering for a steak). Tomato, in this Mediterranean via Kent context, seemed appropriate, even if the base spirit here is vodka which always makes me uneasy (gin being far more appropriate for whetting the appetite, which is what a martini should do). But the clever thing about this particular cocktail is how the Manzanilla sherry rides on the vodka’s boozier coattails: the sherry in this sharpener really shone through, whilst those delicious olives filled with goat’s curd, wild garlic and decorated in lemon had just the right pep and zing. Marvellous stuff.
Mackerel, tomatoes and seaweed
Slow-roast shoulder of lamb, heritage grains and liquorice jus
Bara brith, blood orange, crème fraîche
Keeping with the tomato theme, a starter of tomato, mackerel and seaweed (sans sauce) at first looked as dry as a Norwegian fisherman’s lips. But there was no need to worry: the inherent moisture in the tomatoes and the oily mackerel were enough, and the result was a symphony of summery flavours. Clearly the kitchen has been directed well by the peripatetic Nuno Mendes with cooking that has all the quiet self-assurance of a bay leaf.
A slow-roast shoulder of lamb in a liquorice jus felt more French than Iberian (though that’s hardly a complaint). Texturally this was spot-on, and the fresh peas had a satisfying al dente crunch. Overall, a well-thought-out dish, though if my taste buds didn’t deceive me there was a little spice shyly lurking in the background which could’ve been coaxed out of its shell, and more of the advertised heritage grains wouldn’t have gone amiss. Jersey royals lathered in melted cheese and onions more than made up for the lack of carbs though.
For dessert, a rhubarb ripple ice cream could’ve rounded things off nicely, but I gravitated towards the bara brith with blood orange and crème fraîche, mostly because I miss Odette’s in Primrose Hill which tragically closed down in 2024. A genius twist on pain perdu really where the sourness of the cream and the tangy sharpness of the blood orange worked in harmony, all on top of Welsh fruity bread. (I do a similar thing at Christmas with Cocchi-soaked panettone and oranges steeped in Campari, so I felt a kindred spirit was in the kitchen that day, though I am a mere home cook.)
At £29 for three courses, and wines sensibly priced (perhaps slightly inflated with a nod to London daytrippers), it’s all very fair value. Really it’s a struggle to find fault about anything at this lovely restaurant.
I wouldn’t necessarily say The Rose is one of those life-changing “destination” restaurants you absolutely must go out of your way to, but if you’re in Kent it’s definitely worth it.
91 High Street
Deal
Kent
CT14 6ED
June 2025
