I knew I was going to like this place the second I heard Little Feat’s Dixie Chicken coming over the tannoy; one of several notable firsts at The Pig. That’s not entirely true because I knew I was going to like this place – a lot – the moment I stepped through the front door into a reception of verdant darkness and elegantly faded period embellishments. A room decorated from floor to the heavily moulded ceiling in intimate forest green, with framed maps, a draughtsman’s chest, gilded sconces and a wood burning stove. A clink of glasses and a sense of vintage bacchanalian delights from an adjoining bar. 

Harlyn House (aka The Pig – hotel, restaurant, bar) may be the finest, most liveable and tasteful property it’s been my pleasure to spend some time in. Kim and I were there for dinner, a small celebration, being led along a low serpentine corridor passing a wine store and a private dining room and a staircase to the hotel rooms above culminating at a dark studded door at the far end opening to reveal an equally verdant snug with another wood burner, wing chairs, breakfront curled occassional tables and portraits of thick set men.

One of a chain of Pigs the Harlyn branch opened in 2020 located almost at the confluence of the Trevose Head peninsula with Harlyn Bay and Constantine beaches to the north east and west respectively visible from various parts of the property inside and out. Despite praise from friends Kim hadn’t wanted to see for herself having not taken a liking to the name. And then there was the ghost of Harlyn House, once the home of the High Sheriff of Cornwall, that our friend Kathleen Swan had spoken often of, all of a shiver. One of the young staff said he had heard as much. 

We’d arrived a little earlier than our dining reservation slot intent upon savouring the surroundings. Kim enjoyed a first glass from a bottle of Sancerre while I ordered my usual vodka martini straight up with a twist; a benchmark established by Dukes’ Gilberto Preti. To both my surprise and delight it was delicious; chilled, aromatic and with a punch that made me content to remain in that room all evening listening to Robert Palmer’s Sneakin’ Sally Through The Alley and tunes from Van Morrison and Lou Reed.

Looking at the menu the first thing that struck me were the fish fingers and Rubies ketchup. Fish fingers are, along with prawn cocktail, broccoli and anchovy pasta, palmiers and eccles cakes, one of my Desert Island dishes; another first for a posh restaurant. How could I resist the small plate appetiser at £4.95. The other thing that struck me was just how many vegetarian dishes are on the principal 25 Mile Menu that sources all ingredients from within that radius of The Pig. Sixteen dishes in all, enough to satisfy most 21st century vegetarians, and pescatarians. Among them a red celery risotto, Padstow crab salad, hake, monkfish and courgettes with pesto and pickled mayonnaise. I’m guessing the New Zealand spinach isn’t shipped in but grown in The Pig’s kitchen garden that yielded some of the tastiest new potatoes Kim and I have ever fought over. In short supply was anything remotely porcine.

I think the room we were sat in is called The Skullery with the look and feel of a grand country estate store room. More slate on the floor, exposed rafters and at picture rail height shelves heavy with pickles.

the skullery

  There are French doors at either end that I suspect would have been open in July but for the torrential rain. Nothing matches and that only added to the charm. None of the floral bone china plates on our table originated from the same dinner service.  The dining chairs too are mix and match but that’s what makes this place perfect. Just a pity some diners felt the need to sit down in their beachwear. Men in restarants in shrts shouldn’t be allowed. But it’s what the well healed do; turn up at a place where dinner is easily over £100 a head dressed like a rough sleeper. It’s nothing new. I recall my first upgrade to first class on a BA flight. It was suggested I look smart at check-in. Duly done in a Cerruto Prince of Wales double breasted suit I turned out to be the only male in first class in trousers; it was – so, you’re the upgrade!

dining room – forget the food look at the ceiling

In addition to the fish fingers we selected Kernow Fried Graffiti Cauliflower that turned out to be a sort of delicious crispy cauliflower bhaji. The sunstripe courgettes (good but not as good as the cauliflower) and for mains Middle White Pork Loin with hispi cabbage and gooseberry sauce £27.00. Under advice from the waitress we supplement the mains with crunch buttered greens and those superb new potatoes from Colwyn Farm outside Fowey. The portions of pork were prodigious. I am doubtless behind the times but not that fond of pork when it’s runny and pink inside. Kim neither so Asta ate well for the subsequent couple of days. Perhaps either the monkfish or gurnard with crab butter next time.

Despite pulling back from the pork we were both quite full and elected to forgo desert tempting as garden loganberries with honey set cream and cinder toffee or Rachel’s gooseberry and almond tart with clotted cream and icecream might be. Heaping praise upon the young bar person (!) India for my martini we discovered that we can in future come to the bar and not have a meal. I could order another martini and a couple of plates of those fish fingers and sink gladly back into the 15th century – Pig style. A little Dixie Chicken and Tennessee lamb wouldn’t go amiss either. 

The Pig at Harlyn Bay and Lobster Shed (fairweather seafood in a rural setting in the grounds), Padstow, Cornwall, PL28 8SQ 01841 532785  www.thepighotel.com