Updown Farmhouse is the hidden foodie gem of the Kentish countryside. Libby Brodie stays the night and leaves wishing she lived in an Updown world.
Samuel Johnson once wrote that when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life – but then he never had the opportunity to visit Updown Farmhouse, nestled down a narrow winding road amid the woods and fields of Kent. Perhaps he would have tired sooner, or more often at least, had the possibility been there.
Opened last year by a young couple who each have their own impressive credentials in hospitality, Updown is the dream realised of Oli Brown, founder of Brixton’s popular pop-up Duck Duck Goose, and Ruth Leigh, daughter of restaurant royalty Rowley Leigh. I have heard they immediately endeared themselves to their neighbours by hosting suppers before officially opening, throwing tablecloths over crates as they began to renovate the buildings. London, it seems, is yet to fully clock on, and I slightly dread writing this in case it means I am unable to book a room in the future, but as I am sure it is only a matter of time, here I go.
In under two hours’ drive from the city, I arrive at a large, comfortable looking English farmhouse where the front door is opened by a tall, amply bearded man in tweed suit, matching waistcoat and wellington boots. He even has a golden pocket watch. This is Tom, who carries our bags to one of their five bedrooms on site before giving us the grand tour.
We stroll through the library and games room, a vibrant burnt orange book-lined space with bold artwork and leafy green potted plants where one can pull a book from the shelf or challenge a chum to a game of chess. Then into the pale drawing room, a peaceful space washed with the afternoon sunshine, the original wooden beams exposed above. Comfortable chairs face a low central table, where papers and magazines await guests, next to a large vase of lilies. My one regret is the iron pig in the large brick fireplace implying a roaring wood fire this evening is out.
We exit out the back on to an overgrown, mossy terrace and head across the lawn to the real gem of this English oasis. Imagine the Secret Garden grew a restaurant, and you may come close. A long white curtain is pulled aside, and we slip into a large red brick barn without a roof, sheltered by a corrugated plastic ceiling largely hidden by the wooden beams through which vines twist and curl. During lunch it begins to rain and the sound of raindrops on the plastic above us brings the indoor-outdoor feel of the place even closer to home. It is rustic, without being rough. Tables of various sizes are topped with crisp white tablecloths, and all around festoons of light and antique mirrors reflect the bare red brick walls back at us. Greenery is everywhere with pots and vases of plants, orange trees and flowers artfully scattered throughout. It is, without wanting to lean on an often over-used word, magical.
Chef Oli works on an open wood-burning fire as his wife Ruth moves through the tables, their baby on her hip, making sure everything is just as their guests might wish. The Sunday lunch menu is a succinct and thoughtful selection of three starters and three mains focusing on locally sourced ingredients. There’s a meat, seafood and vegetarian option, which I peruse over a Fig Leaf Negroni, the cocktails incorporating ingredients foraged on site. The dishes arrive simple and flavoursome, the tagliolini with cuttlefish and ink is a creamy, delicately salty delight, and the buffalo mozzarella delicious with the fluffy, freshly baked sourdough.
The most expensive item on their menu is the Roast Rib of Beef at £25, a fairly standard price for most places in London a third this good. Given the generous portions and the sides of potatoes, cauliflower cheese, cabbage and Yorkshire pudding, I am fairly sure I shall be full until tomorrow. The beef is juicily pink and butter soft, and pairs perfectly with Trediberri Langhe Nebbiolo 2021, poured with aplomb by Tom, now in another of his guises as Restaurant Manager. The staff here is small, but appears fiercely loyal, like they have created their own little family on the farm. The General Manager, Frankie, tells me that she first visited as a guest when Updown was in the process of opening and fell so in love with it, she quit her job to start working here. Another testament to the spell this place seems to weave. Beware, if you come once, you may never want to leave….
I sit for hours, the sun sets and the chef continues to cook, the smoke billowing out of the open roof and into the darkening sky. As twilight approaches the birdsong gathers and grows from the little woodland nearby. It is only the slight chill in the air, despite the heaters between tables, that eventually drives me inside to the darkly cosy honesty bar.
I love an honesty bar. The casual, easy, quiet honour of it. There is no queue, no need for electronic card machines or the intrusive ‘bing’ of a till, you do not even have to make small talk with a waiter. You simply select your drink and write down what you had to pay when you leave. It implies a familial trust in their patrons, which in turn makes us want to behave in a way that shows we deserve it. However, though I am a fan of a tailored menu, the lack of choice on offer here is something they may want to build on in the future, but it does mean that after a couple of digestifs I happily head to bed.
Those expecting plush Soho House style furnishings can look away now. This room is large but feels slightly unfinished. There are a couple of pieces of antique furniture, some interesting artwork, but nothing really ties the room together. The bathroom is a narrow ode to the 1950s with vintage lamps, a powder pink bathtub and handheld shower. I can’t tell if this is adorably authentic or still on the renovation to-do list. Thankfully, the bed is large and comfortable, there is a ready supply of Do Good Coffee and home baked biscuits and views over the birdsong filled trees. It all has an undeniable charm and makes me think of what The Pig might have been before it became the well-known boutique franchise “The Pigs”.
After a restful night, of the sort brought about by good food, wine and country air, breakfast is served with powerful Bloody Marys, and a hearty loaf of sourdough to cut and toast yourself. I am tempted by the smoked eel and scrambled eggs but play it safe with a local porker’s bacon and eggs. The food is again simple but excellently done.
Updown Farmhouse is a foodie’s staycation of choice and I take a welcome stroll into their little patch of woodland on site to stretch my legs and digest. Only 15 minutes from picturesque Deal it is easy to linger longer in the countryside, but I return home, safe in the knowledge that the next time I tire of London, this uniquely charming haven awaits me… if I can still get a room.
