In a world of outward-looking, trend-chasing restaurants, Wilsons is a rare and precious thing - a hyper-seasonal, low-waste tour-de-force, with a shapeshifting menu chalked up on a single blackboard. Anchored by what flows from co-founder Mary Wilson's biodynamic market garden, the pickings are plentiful. Armfuls of wild garlic, kohlrabi, and other veg weave their way into six courses of technical cooking. That said, Jan Ostle (formerly of The Hand and Flowers) and Henry Wadsworth (after five years at Le Manoir), let just a handful of ingredients do the talking.
A welcoming crab bisque is a case in point: sweet, rich crab, layered with an intense fish bone broth, pickled dulse, and a gentle scotch bonnet kick. Ears pricked, it’s quickly matched by Wildfarmed sourdough from Wilsons Bread Shop, and a kintsugi bowlful of silky taramasalata.
Next, slick raw slices of scallop arrive in wild garlic hay-smoked creme fraiche, commingling with a tart scallop dashi jelly. Cool and confident, it’s elevated by a foggy Portuguese vinho verde, resplendent with soft honeyed funk and apple-fresh notes that amplify the grassy sweetness of blanched broad beans. Elsewhere, a chicken main shows the kitchen’s intuitive ability to coax comfort from the familiar: juicy breast meat, a blistered thigh skewer, a lick of umami-rich mushroom, with perfumed wet garlic to keep things sprightly.
We flit back to greener pastures with Wilsons’ iconic farm herb sorbet: a lemon balm, sorrel, and dill amalgam served under a caramelised blob of Italian meringue, branded with a hot coal off the grill. Matched with a cup of housemade limoncello, together they make a tight pair - clean, refreshing, precisely tuned. On that note, Wilsons’ great value drinks pairing is a feat in itself, delivering a steady roster of low-intervention and biodynamic labels, largely European, each explained with genuine warmth.
Dessert offers Cheddar strawberries, draped in a blanket of strawberry foam spiked with Korean mint and pine. Preference demands a firmer whack from the latter, but as strawberry delivery systems go, it’s faultless.
Wilsons trades in modesty: no stuffy white tablecloths, no flashy ingredients, no price hikes. It’s a 24-cover neighbourhood spot, attuned to the simpler joys of eating. Post-Michelin star, Wilsons remains the little local we all wish we had within walking distance.