Briar – Bruton, Somerset

1 High St

Bruton

BA10 0AB

BY NEAL MARTIN | MARCH 7, 2025

The Food:

Somerset Sobrassada on toast with pear and parsley

Cured trout, rhubarb, chilli and parsley

Fresh curds, grilled leeks and hazelnuts

Cornish pollock, celeriac, seaweed and chives

Lamb shoulder, fennel, winter leaf salad and anchovies

Chocolate, blood orange and crème fraiche

The Wine:

1971 Bischöfliches Priesterseminar Wiltinger Kupp Riesling Kabinett – 93

Despite the headwinds affecting the hospitality industry, in 2025, the British Isles presides over a dynamic culinary scene that spreads from the tip of Cornwall to the far isles of Scotland. This diverse food landscape is unequivocally not exclusive to London. On the contrary, there is a strong argument that the most exciting restaurants and most talented chefs operate outside the capital. The last two decades have seen a steady, perhaps quickening migration away from London. This is partly due to escalating prices, especially business rates, together with a burgeoning desire to locate kitchens close to the source of the finest produce and ingredients (particularly amongst chefs who hail from those areas). Days before writing this piece, Moor Hall made mainstream news becoming the only recipient of a third Michelin star in 2025. Moor Hall is not located in salubrious Knightsbridge or Soho, but in the middle of nowhere, up near Liverpool.

The British Isles is developing clusters of restaurants, suppliers and attendant hotels that attract gastronomes in increasing numbers. The forerunner might be Maidenhead/Marlow, renowned for The Fat Duck, Waterside Inn and Hand and Flowers, all within shouting distance of each other. Lancashire is currently flourishing, a part of England renowned for outstanding meat and dairy and where you find L’Enclume and the aforementioned Moor Hall. Another that is bubbling under is Somerset, little more than a couple of hours’ drive from London. In February, I visited the picturesque village of Bruton to check out two restaurants that offer different but complementary dining experiences: Briar and Osip.

Occasionally, you meet a young, bushy-tailed chef and you intuitively know that you’re face-to-face with a future star, a culinary talent in the opening chapters of their career. Chatting briefly after dinner at Briar, Macclesfield-born Sam Lomas exudes the quiet confidence of a chef who knows how to run a kitchen. A disciple of farm-to-table dining, Lomas worked for Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall for three or four years at River Cottage in Devon. As an aside, writing this piece enhanced my appreciation for the prescience and influence of Fearnley-Whittingstall and his advocacy of thinking about where our food comes from. Farm-to-table dining was unquestionably inspired by his books and TV programs, an ethos that chimes with the mantra for local, seasonal ingredients and sustainable produce.

Briar chef Sam Lomas is a culinary star in the making.

Briar is nestled on the ground floor of the Number One Bruton Hotel in the namesake rural village. It is one of those places where every building looks ancient and slightly imposing. Opposite, you will find The Chapel, renowned for its bread, pies and sausage rolls. The hotel is history incarnate. Part of the exposed wall in the small and narrow restaurant dates to the 16th century. Conversely, Briar is just five months old, nevertheless, it was awarded a Bib Gourmand by Michelin on the week of my visit. The small kitchen is housed at one end of the room. It’s not a fully open kitchen and the light makes it look like a large flatscreen television, except the only program on this channel is live-action coverage of chefs rustling up delicious food.  

Briar's interior exposes a wall from the 1500s.

Apart from farm-to-table eating, Briar’s concept is built around sharing plates. This is the one part that didn’t quite work for me. I just felt that some dishes were not predisposed to dividing in half. A couple were fiddly to split and would have worked better as a serving for one. Following advice from our waitress, we order five dishes and are forewarned that they might come out in a slightly random order depending on the kitchen. The standard of ingredients and skill of Lomas’ cooking is evident throughout the meal.

The Somerset Sobrassada on toast with pear and parsley.

These are not intricate, fancy dishes. Their simplicity is what makes them so tasty. The first dish is Somerset Sobrassada on toast with pear and parsley. The pear is served as a sweet gel, a neat counterfoil to the Sobrassada that was spread over the malty toast. The quality of the cooked sausage shines through, tangy on the entry with a fiery kick on the finish. It is delicious but also quite spicy. I would have shimmied it to later in the meal.

Briar uses local, seasonal produce to elevate dishes like the fresh curds, grilled leeks and hazelnuts.

The fresh curds with grilled leeks and hazelnuts is a glorious dish, deceptively straightforward, but the quality of ingredients takes it to a higher level. The leeks are small with an intense flavour, perfectly cooked to retain a little crunch, with just the right amount of charring to counter their sweetness. The curds are light and creamy, the hazelnuts lending bite and balancing the whole dish. The secret is the subtle Chinese XO sauce mixed with garlic and ginger. I’ll go on record as saying that they are the best leeks I’ve encountered.

The cured trout displays Briar's commitment to high-quality local ingredients.

The cured trout comes with diced rhubarb, chili and parsley. The fish is quite meaty in texture and is clearly top-notch, although the chili shades the rhubarb and, to an extent, the trout. This just needs a little tweaking.

The Cornish pollock was one of the highlights of the meal. 

No complaints about the Cornish pollock that is chaperoned by celeriac, seaweed and chives. This is another highlight. Pollock is underrated, and this is cooked to absolute perfection, the skin slightly charred and crunchy. Unlike the trout, this is supremely well balanced, the celeriac and seaweed nuanced such that the pollock could sing.

I enjoyed my main course of lamb with fennel, winter leaf salad and anchovies. 

The lamb shoulder comes with fennel, winter leaf salad and anchovies. The local lamb is moist and flavoursome, the fennel superior to any that I have bought in my outdoor market. Anchovies are chefs’ secret weapon, accentuating flavours without leaving any residual fishy taste, and I actually deploy them with other meats at home, chicken working particularly well.

I finish with a chocolate mousse that was served with blood orange and crème fraiche. This is sublime, not too sweet or heavy, the blood orange with a subtle tang and marrying perfectly with the crème fraiche that I greedily spoon up until there is nothing left.

The wine list is short and, like so many restaurants these days, sidesteps the classic regions, I think to its detriment. Most bottles are well priced in the £40 to £80 range for whites and reds. Phoning ahead, the restaurant was amenable to BYO with corkage and since this was the week of my birthday, I arrived packing a suitable vintage. The 1971 Wiltinger Kupp Riesling Kabinett from Bischöfliches Priesterseminar is everything I desire from a mature Mosel, or more accurately, Saar. Plus, of course, ‘71 is a highly-prized German vintage. My colleague, Anne Krebiehl, MW, told me the background of this producer. She explained that many vineyards were sold after Napoleon’s takeover, but some retained ecclesiastical proprietorship and remain that way today. This particular wine comes from a seminary founded in 1773 with a vineyard planted by Clemens Wenzeslaus, who issued the edict that only Riesling should be planted in the region. Clever man! Who says you don’t learn anything in a Vinous Table?

Amber in hue, I was momentarily perturbed that the 1971 might be past its best. Yet its freshness and vitality on the nose allay any fear as Clementine, mandarin and grapefruit soar with perfect delineation. The palate offers chimerical sweetness due to its age rather than residual sugar, as it is bone dry on the finish, more Trocken than Kabinett. It delivers the tension that aged Riesling excels at, undaunted by age, sprightly and yet comfortable in its maturity. This wine is all I needed to drink to celebrate another successful orbit around the sun.

Briar is a popular destination restaurant that is open all day if you want to pop in for coffee and a slice of cake, however, it’s a place you really need to come to for lunch or dinner. Booking is essential, as there are only around 25 covers. Whilst Briar is arguably too straightforward for a Michelin star, every dish showcases local produce and a talented chef. Sam Lomas is a name to keep your eye on. It is always better to experience chefs before their breakout and to follow their journey toward wider recognition or fame. Sure, I might just tidy up a couple of the dishes, but otherwise, you can understand why this place is fully packed with both locals and gourmands.

In my next Vinous Table, I will cover Briar’s “older brother,” Osip. Expect superlatives…

 © 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.