Ah, to a controversial subject. We used to know the owners of the Mulberry. But since it's changed hands, what used to be an excellent restaurant has become somewhat hit and miss.
When I first ate at this place I was feeling somewhat self-conscious. I was just walking again properly after recovering from my broken knee and had a moment of pure stress because I tried to get into my high heels and my left foot, used to being elevated on a sofa, kept swelling up due to the sudden pressure of walking around again. Why was I so stressed? Why did I require heels? Well, we were nervous about this meal. It was a huge group of people, some of whom were the BF's friends from Saundersfoot, family friends, his sister's friends, his sister's best friend whose own sister happens to be a somewhat unruly ex of my own BF. Oh what tangled webs these Welsh weave.
Anyway, long story short it all worked out swimmingly as a strapless dress and leggings alongside glitzy flats apparently had the girl in tears and she left early after thinking I was really pretty and thin or something. Not that I wanted her to think that, it just meant I must have looked nice. Anyway, that aside, the food was rustic and fresh. Starters of fishcakes were pretty delish and although my butternut squash veg was a little greasy as a result, the truffle oil really added to it. Plus we were given homemade bread with sundried tomatoes baked into it and stunning wine. A dark and stormy cocktail really finished the meal off beautifully.
Cut to New Year's EVE Eve, 2009. The day before the sis-in-law gets married, we all gather for a meal here. The new proprietor is somewhat... rude. There are few people skills there. The boys had to wait about half an hour for a peppercorn sauce because it has to be cooked. You order steaks, presumably they either come with a sauce or you're offered one. Them's the rules, surely? My dad-in-law had ordered me a veggie pasta bake which sounded exactly the kind of wholesome, hearty thing I needed after a long train journey and a bout of nausea, but unfortunately the pasta was rubbery, the cheese sauce was underseasoned and I wound up only eating the vegetables, leaving a fair bit behind. Oh dear.
It's a great shame when a restaurant changes hands and loses its spark. The Welsh clan have since stopped eating there because the pizzazz has gone AWOL. Still, for a few drinks and a bite to eat it's in a lovely location and as cosy as you can imagine. read more