You can never truly leave Wales. Don’t get me wrong —people do. There’s a parliamentary inquiry into it and everything: politicians trying to stop the flow of young people heading to London or Manchester in search of better jobs, prospects and universities. But the thing is, when they get there they find that all they want to do is talk about home. Then, after a few years of pining for the old country, they start asking the same question: should I go back? And some, who realise they can swap their little house in Norbury for a palatial farmhouse outside Newport — while making a six-figure profit — do.
I don’t know about the chef Tom Watts-Jones’s property investments, but the 37-year-old from Glamorgan did his training in London and worked at the Anchor & Hope and St John — perhaps the two central London restaurants most associated with a hipsterly but moneyed metropolitan elite. No doubt he could have stayed there and lived a happy life measured in overpriced natural wines by the carafe.
But he didn’t. Back in his home town of Aberthin, outside Cowbridge, he took over a rickety little pub called the Hare & Hounds. It’s less than half an hour’s drive from Cardiff Central station, in case you, like everyone who has left, don’t live in south Wales. It’s where Watts-Jones had his first pint. He has kept half of it as a classic boozer and turned the other half into … well, he’s turned it into a place pretty much a bit like St John or the Anchor & Hope. But for about a third of the price.
What do I mean by that? It has the whitewashed walls, the exposed brickwork and floorboards, plus a menu that is essentially pub grub. There are big hunks of local meat and veg, but everything has a bit of show-off sparkle to it. A bisque here, an oyster there. Sourdough and soda bread all over the shop.
A good example of what I’m talking about: buttermilk-fried quail caesar salad. I know. Don’t laugh. Putting quail on your caesar salad is exactly the type of London pretentiousness you’d come to rural Wales to escape. But taste the dish and you realise it’s there for a reason: a gameyness you wouldn’t get from chicken that goes perfectly with the salty crisp of the batter and the deep-fried anchovies they’ve thrown in alongside.
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As well: delicate little mushrooms and wild garlic, topped with a big whack of thinly grated Hafod (Welsh cheddar) and a crispy poached egg. Same with the crispy pig cheek with chicory, mustard and generous discs of pickled apple. Looks simple. Try making it at home.
For the main: roasted duck leg. The team at the Hare & Hounds have blessedly resisted the urge that seems to seize most chefs these days — to coat the poor bird in a sticky glaze so saccharine it overpowers the whole sad affair. Hurrah for them. Hurrah again: to accompany it, a thick farmer’s stew of bacon, butter beans and cider. Plus a blob of aïoli to remind you that this is not just farm food, it’s farm food from someone who has worked at St John.
An apple crumble soufflé was at the far-fluffy end of the cakey-to-fluffy soufflé spectrum. I found it unbearably sweet — cloying on the teeth, like candyfloss. If you like your desserts more suited to a palate above voting age, go instead for the rhubarb and custard tart: a rhubarb compote dolloped next to a custard tart that falls halfway between flan pâtissier and pastel de nata, a satisfyingly solid burnt top and a bonfire of toffee warmth.
This is the sort of almost-simple food you get at the most fashionable London restaurants — Brat, the Devonshire, Bouchon Racine. If it had opened in Soho I’d probably think it a little derivative. But nobody is doing it quite like this around here. Nobody except Watts-Jones.
Actually, that’s not quite right. It isn’t always Watts-Jones working in the kitchen any more. His enterprise has been so successful he’s now overseeing three more joints: the Heathcock in Cardiff; the Hare & Hounds Bakery down the road in Cowbridge; and the Clifton in Bristol. Which is in England.
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The Hare & Hounds was packed on a Saturday night. The locals who took me think there is an enormous pent-up demand for more restaurants like it in south Wales. Watts-Jones has proved the concept. There’s no doubt others will follow. That’s the sort of progress a thousand government levelling-up bills could only dream of.
★★★★☆
hareandhoundsaberthin.com
