Review: First-in: The Three Horseshoes, Somerset

Why book?

People have been getting rather excited about The Three Horseshoes. This part of Somerset was put on the wider map when Hauser & Wirth opened their gallery in Bruton, closely followed by Osip, a farm-to-table restaurant in the old blacksmith’s, run by the brilliantly named Merlin Labron-Johnson (this, after all, is a region of old magic and mysticism). Last year Nick Balfe, from London’s Salon, followed suit with Holm in South Pemberton. Now Margot Henderson – the Kiwi-born chef known for Rochelle Canteen – has taken her culinary vision outside London for the first time, opening a restaurant that gathers lots of good things from the fields and orchards all around. But it’s not all about the food: staying in one of the five beautifully designed rooms puts you right in the bucolic heart of Hardy country, with country walks all about.

Set the scene

Hills rise and fall all around the tiny Somerset village of Batcombe, squirrelled away in a little valley not far from Bruton, surrounded by hedgerows speckled white with wild garlic in May. There is a village hall and a church, and right beside the church, a pub – so close you could attend evensong and be up and out, supping your first pint as the final chimes rang. At The Three Horseshoes, freshly cut limestone pathways lead around the garden, under flowering crab-apple trees and past blowsy tulips; in the pub itself are flagstone floors and black beams – a space of Quaker-like simplicity with white walls and 19th-century wooden chairs. An inglenook fireplace blazes beneath a timber lintel big enough to ford a river; one side is the bar, on the other the dining room.    

The backstory

Henderson occupies a cherished place on London’s culinary timeline, helping launch The Eagle in Farringdon, the OG of gastropubs, before going onto The French House and meeting husband Fergus, who would go on to open St John in Clerkenwell while Margot went further east to launch Rochelle Canteen. So by opening the kitchen here she’s come full circle in a way, thanks to her friend Max Wigram, a former gallerist and antiques collector who bought The Three Horseshoes and invited Margot – a frequent visitor to Somerset – to oversee the kitchen. Pieces from his collection are spread around the rooms, from a thick-daubed abstract painting and classical Italian prints to Sixties wicker chairs and a centrepiece 16th-century bench by the entrance. He’s also involved local talent such as Frances Penn, an interior designer who helped reimagine the five bedrooms, and Libby Russell, an accomplished landscape gardener.     

The rooms

All five bedrooms are set in the eaves, deeply spacious and high-ceilinged, though No. 5 has its own entrance up some steps nearest the church and a bathroom big enough – as its former occupant, an Irish bartender once said – to house a bullock. Instead it has a large bathtub and shower stall, as well as a sofa, turning this into a drawing room of sorts. Elsewhere are soft stripes and geometric-patterned Ozbek cushions, fabrics by Fermoie and Linwood, and natural Wildsmith products in the bathroom, with antique desks and chairs, and super-comfy beds made locally by Reylon. Perhaps the most characterful is No. 3, for its courtyard views and window-side bathtub neatly framed by the timber apex.

Food and drink

There’s always been something wonderfully rustic and straw-hatted about Henderson’s cooking, so her approach – realised here by head chef Nye Smith, a St John alumnus – feels right at home here. Ingredients are all gathered from farms and suppliers nearby, where possible, including the Brown & Forrest smokehouse and Westcombe Dairy, and greens from no-dig guru Charles Dowding. Radishes the size of baubles are dipped in smoked cod’s roe; cured trout is draped in kohlrabi and dill mayonnaise. The rabbit pie quickly sells out; confit duck is a close rival, sometimes paired by sauerkraut and prunes. The treacle tart would win first prize in the church fete. ‘There’s a really good farming community around here,’ Henderson, here two days a week, tells me; ‘plenty of smallholdings and young people starting out. I get given asparagus and the occasional pig. The apples are incredible, of course. I’m reminded of Elizabeth David writing about the South of France in the 1950s; it feels like that in England right now.’ And this isn’t some fancy Michelin-star restaurant that would get its white napkins all in a twist if you walked in scraping mud off your boots from a morning hill walk – you can order a bowl of chips or braised chard on toast from the bar menu and pore over a game of Scrabble. A smaller dining room is set to open at the front, for private events and those who want a quieter experience. For breakfast: breakfast cider! And a chalked-up menu of, say, stewed rhubarb and yogurt, poached eggs and bacon.

The service

There’s an experienced team here, including Josh and head bartender Toby who worked at Holm together, along with personable first-timers too.

The area

You can walk all around the village in about 20 minutes, down wildflower-flecked lanes, past thick hedgerows and poplar trees crowned by mistletoe and crows; little passageways lead through thick walls the colour of age-ripened Cheddar to fields. St Mary’s Church, originally Norman but on the site of a Saxon church, is quite startling, its square tower a beacon for miles about. Walk a little further east and you’ll reach Westcombe, whose cottages all seem to be named for the plants growing there – cherry and laburnum and daisy… Drop into Westcombe Dairy, which supplies Neal’s Yard, for leisurely cheese- and charcuterie-tasting accompanied by a pint of table beer; next door is Landrace Bakery, which supplies The Three Horseshoes with its sourdough. Bruton is a little further, but still walkable; Frome a short drive away. And Nunney Castle is a classic picture-book ruin, with well-preserved walls and moat.    

Anything else to mention?

Libby Russell’s own Batcombe garden has an unexploded World War II bomb in it, but there’s nothing so explosive about her work here – it’s a soft-edged work of art, with figs and roses draping the walls, and a yew hedge growing to mask the car park at the back. There are hydrangeas and camelias, the scent of herbs and wildflowers on the lawn beneath old apple and pear trees. In the summer, guests will have a planted terrace outside the rooms, with seating overlooking the main garden. 

Is it worth it?

Yes, whether you’re here for the food or not. It’s a lovely base for a weekend rambling around the countryside, with bedrooms that you actually want to spend time in (so often pubs-with-rooms are a little pokey with nowhere to perch but the bed). And it feels rooted in the community, rather than an outpost of a London restaurant scene. 

From £220 per night