<a target="_blank" href="http://www.thesportsmanseasalter.co.uk/">The Sportsman, Kent</a>

Faversham Rd

Seasalter

Whitstable CT5 4BP

BY NEAL MARTIN | SEPTEMBER 30, 2022The Food:Fresh
oysters with caviarSlip Sole
grilled in seaweed butterCured
trout fillet with rhubarb granita and seaweedBraised
wild seabass fillet with crab vinaigretteStrawberry
and custard tart with strawberry ice creamThe Wines:<table>
 <tbody><tr>
 <td>2017
 Cédric Bouchard-Roses de Jeanne Blanc de Noirs Les Ursules</td>
 <td>93</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2011 Domaine Guy Roulot
 Meursault Clos des Bouchères 1er Cru</td>
 <td>91</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2004 Emidio Pepe Trebbiano
 d’Abruzzo</td>
 <td>91</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2010 Domaine Guffens-Heynen
 Pouilly-Fuissé Tris des Hauts des Vignes</td>
 <td>94</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2004 Clos Rougeard Saumur
 Champigny Les Poyeux</td>
 <td>93</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>1987 Lafleur Pensées de
 Lafleur</td>
 <td>88</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>1970 Léoville Barton</td>
 <td>85</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2001 La Conseillante</td>
 <td>94</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>1978 Domaine du Vieux
 Télégraphe Châteauneuf-du-Pape</td>
 <td>93</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>1981 Château de Beaucastel
 Châteauneuf-du-Pape</td>
 <td>90?</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2017 Domaine Duroché
 Gevrey-Chambertin Lavaux Saint-Jacques 1er Cru&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</td>
 <td>93+</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>2005 Domaine Denis Mortet
 Gevrey-Chambertin Mes Cinq Terroirs</td>
 <td>92</td>
 </tr>
 <tr>
 <td>1990 Domaine Bruno Clair
 Morey-Saint-Denis En La Rue de Vergy</td>
 <td>87</td>
 </tr></tbody></table> When I
was a child, every Friday night my family had fish ‘n chips with nan and
grandad in Southchurch. Visiting grandparents aside, I always looked forward to
the car journey home along the esplanade between the Southend Pier and
Chalkwell. Nose pressed against glass, I would peer out of the back car window
and gaze across the estuary to the Kent coastline, lit up like a huge funfair. My
fertile imagination envisaged some kind of a futuristic world that became
illuminated at night and disappeared during the day. Instead of a scene from
Bladerunner, I was actually mesmerized by the unsightly Grain Power Station
that belched noxious smoke from one of the tallest chimneys in Europe and
surrounding oil refineries. It took a few years to realize that this imaginary
world lived inside my head. To this day, the north-facing Kent shoreline seems
so near, yet so far, an unexplored mysterious part of southern England. It’s
always been part of the background, yet I have never visited since there has never been a bridge.
Even the power station was mothballed and demolished several years ago, its
chimney blown up in spectacular fashion. Eyesore removed.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548301604-1-sportsman+exterior_copy.jpg">The Sportsman exterior So,
what was the point of my schlep to North Kent in June this year? Simply, it is
the location of a restaurant that has been on my “must visit” list for years, one
whose reputation enticed several gastronomes, including novelist-cum-wine
writer, Jay McInerney, to journey out to the middle-of-nowhere and dine at The
Sportsman.The
Sportsman was opened by self-taught chef, Whitstable-born Stephen Harris in
1999. It stands alone on a wind-battered patch of Kent near Seasalter - a
maritime name if ever there was one. I caught a train to Faversham and hopped
in a taxi outside the station, the local cab company surely doing brisk
business ferrying diners on the last stage of their pilgrimage. They’ll drop
you outside a field of grazing sheep, the air thick with salt from the Thames,
hidden behind an earthen berm. Alternatively, many walk from Faversham or
Whitstable along the coast, probably the healthiest option with all that nourishing
sea air.Banish
ideas of some swanky restaurant with freshly-ironed tablecloths, waiters in
starched shirts and a maître d’ who’s greeted customers since the Boer War. The
Sportsman is a slightly ramshackle inn that can trace its roots back to 1642
when the surrounding land was owned by the archbishop of Canterbury. It was
given a lick of paint and turned into a casual gastropub without airs or graces
and yet has deservedly held a Michelin star since 2008. The place is couched in
a rural atmosphere, far away from the city’s hustle and bustle, a retreat from
the stress of daily life. The inside décor is not far removed from a country
boozer with worn wooden floors, a small bar and wooden chairs that you could
find in a second-hand furniture shop. There’s a brigade of young, friendly
waiting staff milling about, taking orders and politely turning away anyone that
foolishly did not reserve a table two or three months in advance. Harris offers
a five-course menu with a couple of options for each course that are based
around meticulously-sourced local ingredients. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548336040-2-sportsman+caviar_copy.jpg">Fresh oysters with caviar We had
to begin with a round of fresh oysters with caviar, of course, sourced from
estuarine waters nearby, presented on a wooden box of cockleshells. These were
exquisite with just the right amount of tang, the caviar offering perfect salinity
without overpowering the bivalve.Next
came Harris’s signature slip sole grilled in seaweed butter that Harris churns
himself. Of course, I have eaten this many times before, namely <a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/vinous-table-noble-rot-soho-london-uk-sep-2020">Noble
Rot’s</a> take on the dish, as Harris has been their executive chef from the
beginning. The butter is magnificent, less spicy than the Noble Rot version, the
seaweed flavour stronger, not unlike Japanese nori. The fish itself was cooked
to absolute perfection. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548399827-3-sportsman+slip+sole_copy.jpg">Slip Sole grilled in seaweed butter Given
our location, I kept my choices pescatarian. The cured trout fillet with
rhubarb granita and seaweed was the standout dish. The fish was so moist and
flavoursome, glistening on the plate, the granita bracingly fresh and
beautifully infused with the rhubarb.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548432639-4-sportsman+trout_copy.jpg">Cured trout fillet with rhubarb granita and seaweed The braised
wild seabass fillet with crab vinaigrette, which was actually another starter
course, was much subtler in flavour compared to the trout; the texture of the
fish was just wonderful, meaty and firm yet flaking away in your knife, the
crab vinaigrette lending acidic bite.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548464351-5-sportsman+seabass_copy.jpg">Braised wild seabass fillet with crab vinaigrette The strawberry
and custard tart with strawberry ice cream was as good as it sounds. I could
not fault it any way, shape or form. I would have ordered a second, but I was
being well-behaved.The
short wine list is well-priced and well-chosen. As one of the rare breeds of
chefs that have a passion for wine, they are also amenable to BYO, though I
would be courteous if permitted and order one or two from their list. All these
wines were served blind in pairs.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548600035-sportsman+strawberry_copy.jpg">Strawberry and custard tart with strawberry ice cream We
began with the 2017 Blanc de Noirs Les Ursules from Cédric Bouchard-Roses
de Jeanne, a 2021 disgorgement. This offers a discrete but complex array of
scents with fleeting aromas of Japanese yuzu and lemon verbena, even a hint of
rosewater in the background. The palate is beautifully balanced with unerring harmony;
it’s not intense, yet elegant with just the right amount of bitterness on the
finish to keep you on your toes. Elegant and poised, this is drinking
beautifully. Next, the 2011 Meursault Clos des Bouchères 1er Cru from
Domaine Guy Roulot served from magnum. This has lovely definition on the
nose, real mineralité unfolding from the glass with touches of lemon
thyme, truffle oil and light grilled almond aromas. The palate is very poised
and precise, understated at first yet builds with aeration. Whilst I would not
rank it amongst Jean-Marc Roulot’s finest creations, missing the sophistication
of his very best, this 12-year-old Meursault is perhaps at its peak and should
continue to drink well for another 15-20 years. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548622805-6-sportsman+bottle+lineup1_copy.jpg">The 2004
Trebbiano d’Abruzzo from Emidio Pepe is poured blind and shows
slight turbidity in the glass. The nose has a little oxidation, roasted walnuts
mixed with sea spray, beeswax scents and a hint of kelp seaweed. The palate is medium-bodied
with a bracing line of acidity and arresting bitterness on the finish that
might be off-putting to some. Personally, I appreciate the uncompromising
nature of this Trebbiano, almost penetrating in intensity, and as it approaches
20 years of age, I can imagine it offering another dozen years of drinking
pleasure. The 2010 Pouilly-Fuissé Tris des Hauts des Vignes from Domaine
Guffens-Heynen is one of Jean-Marie Guffen’s rare old birds, one that I
have not encountered before. It has a very classy bouquet with yellow plum, orange
pith, crushed limestone and a discrete linseed note. The palate is lively on
the entry, introducing an effervescent Pouilly-Fuissé that is lent tension by
the tang of bitter lemon. It delivers impressive precision and feels
reassuringly persistent on the finish. This is essentially Guffens firing on
all cylinders. Moving
on to the reds, we began with two Cabernet Francs, one from the Loire and the
other from Bordeaux. The 2004 Saumur-Champigny Les Poyeux from Clos
Rougeard has an entrancing nose with perfumed red cherry and crushed
strawberry fruit, hints of oxtail and black truffle emerging with time and
developing a Bordeaux-like scent, which is not totally unsurprising given the
Cabernet Franc in question. The palate is medium-bodied with exquisite balance
and a taut line of acidity but marked by a salinity that revitalises the
senses. I notice a touch of menthol with time as it fans out gloriously on the
finish. At its peak now, but this Saumur-Champigny will give another 20 years’
drinking pleasure. It was mischievously paired with another Cabernet Franc, a
Pomerol that I have not drunk for 15-odd years.We then
moved on to Claret, and I wish we hadn’t since both bottles of Bordeaux
négociant-bottled Palmer, the 1947 and 1949, had been acquired from a trader
that immediately set my alarm bells ringing. Sure enough, the Margaux looked
like toilet water and tasted even worse. The 1987 Pensées de Lafleur is
the maiden release, a vintage when Jacques Guinaudeau bravely decided that he
would not release any Grand Vin. So, this is ostensibly the 1987 Lafleur and
not a separate bottling from part of their vineyard like subsequent vintages.
It offers candied orange peel on the nose, quite high-toned with blackberry and
raspberry, becoming savoury and tertiary with time. The palate has moderate
complexity, a little overawed by the Clos Rougeard served alongside, though
with a fresh, if slightly attenuated finish. It’s a fascinating Pomerol, one I
would choose to drink over the next five years since it’s beginning to look a
bit ragged. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548750942-sportsman+trebbiano_copy.jpg">Next
came a 1970 Léoville Barton. Predating Anthony Barton, this was not an
auspicious era for one of my favourite Saint-Julien estates. With rusty old
nails on the nose and a touch of chlorophyll, this lacks the cohesion of its
peers. The palate is better with decent weight, surprisingly sweet (maybe
chaptalized?) fruit, nice balance, yet far away from what you would call a
complex wine. I wonder if there are superior examples out there. After a
precarious run, the 2001 La Conseillante was as a shoo-in. It has a
seductive mélange of red and black fruit, those hints of truffle and white
pepper coming through, youthful and brushing off its 21 years effortlessly. The
palate is medium-bodied with fine-boned tannins, plenty of crisp black fruit
laced with sage and still offering that cheeky soupçon of curry powder on the
persistent finish. This is now reaching its peak and is just a lovely Pomerol. The
most intriguing pair came from the Southern Rhône. The 1978
Châteauneuf-du-Pape from Domaine du Vieux Télégraphe is the oldest
vintage that I have tasted. It has a fresh and enticing bouquet, dark berry
fruit, black truffles, thyme and autumn bonfire smoke, a touch of brettanomyces
lending a feral element, yet never occluding the terroir expression or fruit,
just “dancing with it”. The palate is very well balanced and defined with a
wonderful line of acidity, perhaps nowadays a tad meaty with age, yet it opens
and clarifies in the glass, its hung game/saddle leather note becoming more
pronounced. Superb! The infamous 1981 Châteauneuf-du-Pape from
Château de Beaucastel is certainly not the most bretty example that I have
encountered, maybe just a little tired on the nose compared to the 1978
Télégraphe. The palate is much better with roasted chestnut and game infusing
the leather black fruit and displaying tremendous depth on the finish. Bottles
do vary from one to the other, hence the question mark against my score. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1664548657726-8-sportsman+rougeard_copy.jpg">Moving
to the Côte d’Or, my bottle of 2017 Gevrey-Chambertin Lavaux Saint-Jacques
1er Cru from Domaine Duroché probably ought to have been poured
prior to the Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Nevertheless, it has a lovely, nuanced nose,
perhaps just beginning to close up, with touches of Earl Grey infusing the red
fruit, quite tart on the palate, and as Pierre Duroché’s wines are wont to do,
blossoming and cohering in the glass. Mortet’s 2005 Gevrey-Chambertin Mes
Cinq Terroirs, which was vinified by Arnaud Mortet alongside his father
before his untimely passing, might well be the over-performer of the
lunch. Dark berry fruit, hints of Seville orange marmalade and black tea on the
nose, this is beautifully defined and gains vigour in the glass. Quite powerful
on the palate, in keeping with Denis Mortet’s and the vintage’s style, it has
structure and grip, yet comes armed with unerring purity and succulence on the
finish. It’s drinking beautifully now, but do give it an hour’s decant. A
testament to a much-missed vigneron. Finally, the 1990 Morey-Saint-Denis En
La Rue de Vergy from Domaine Bruno Clair offers ripe black cherries,
raisin and cherry liqueur on the nose, perhaps reflecting the growing season
more than the terroir. The palate is sweet and viscous, almost Rhône-like with
sage and truffle notes towards its plush, yet uncomplicated finish that is
almost a bit flabby. Drink bottles soon. 



















































































































































With
lunch drawing to its conclusion, it was time to call our taxis to return us to
civilisation. I first heard about The Sportsman not long after it opened from a
local friend, and it had only taken a couple of decades to visit. Thankfully,
it did not disappoint. This is cooking where the chef wisely takes a back seat
and allows the ingredients do all the talking. In another’s hands, the dishes
might be tarted up, but then they would have lost something. Likewise, the
slight shabbiness of The Sportsman is all part and parcel of what makes it special.
If you want to see a bit of rural Kent, then it is certainly worth the train
journey down this way, and indeed, some are known to pre-order a taxi all the
way from the capital. Maybe the neon-lit fantasy land of my childhood never
existed, but at least part of the world is dishing up fantastic cuisine.&nbsp;<div></div>© 2022, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or re-distributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright, but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.

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