Osip

25 Kingsettle Hill

Hardway

Bruton, Somerset, UK

BA10 0LN

BY NEAL MARTIN | MARCH 14, 2025

The Food:

Parsnip

Fermented potato bread

Beetroot

Celeriac

Rhubarb

Fallow deer

Blood orange

The Wines:

2023 Alessandro Viola IGP Terre Siciliane Note di Bianco - 89

1970 Grand-Puy-Lacoste - 93

Sometimes you exit a restaurant feeling relief that you experienced its cuisine before widespread fame. You feel a bit smug. You pat yourself on the back. You want to spread the word but paradoxically, you want to keep it as your own secret. Hey, I’m spreading the word…

Osip will become one of the UK’s most sought-after tables. Sure, it has already been awarded a Michelin star, although that is likely not the first accolade. In any case, that star came in 2021 in the restaurant’s prior incarnation, when it occupied No. 1 Bruton Hotel, the same space that now hosts Briar. Since relocating a couple of miles up the road last summer into a three-century-old country inn, there is no doubt that chef Merlin Labron-Johnson has flourished. He’s only going to get better.

Alerted to the existence of Osip by restaurant critic Marina McCloughlin, someone who knows what’s good and what’s not, I reserved a table to celebrate another successful orbit around the sun. At the time of this writing, most major restaurant reviewers are yet to ring Osip’s doorbell, and most articles pertain to Osip 1.0. Therefore, if this Vinous Table sounds tempting, do not hesitate to make a reservation and work out the logistics later. Osip is a bit of an odd name, so I presumed there must be some story behind it. It comes from Labron-Johnson’s middle name that was inspired by Russian poet, Osip Mandelstam. I was already familiar with Merlin Labron-Johnson’s cooking. He was appointed head chef at Portland restaurant in London a few years ago—part of Will Lander’s mini-empire that includes Quality Chop House and 64 Goodge Street. Labron-Johnson won a Michelin star after just a few months at only 24 years of age, then headed up the highly-rated Clipstone, running both simultaneously. After six years in the capital, like many, he moved closer to his roots in order to escape the frenetic city life, though I suspect he’s busier than ever.

Chef Merlin Labron-Johnson and his team hard at work.

Osip lies out in the sticks on the edge of a pine forest, though only a couple of hours’ drive from London. The inn, whose renovation was partly crowd-funded, is a postcard picture with pristine whitewashed exterior walls that wouldn’t flinch if a bomb went off, one of those buildings that holds numerous untold stories. A cauldron burns hay in the cold night air as we enter and I speculate what it might be for.

The interior seamlessly blends history and modernity. The original structure is naturally preserved as the building is listed, though the rear has been extended to house a roomy open kitchen, chic and minimalist in design. When I write “open,” you can literally wander in and ask if they’d need a hand washing pots and pans. Members of the brigade diligently perform their tasks at various stations, giving notice that these dishes require a lot of talented manpower. The rear floor-to-ceiling windows enhance the sense of space without spoiling the frontage and apparently offer a lovely daytime view across Somerset. The subdued lighting creates a cozy ambiance. Rural restaurants foment tranquility that is impossible to recreate in cities, but there is just the right hubbub of background chat and laughter to maintain lively atmosphere.

The menu is one of the most innovative I have encountered in a while. Each dish keeps you guessing, obliging two or three minutes’ examination and contemplation. Apart from the main course, nothing feels derivative, as if each has been designed from scratch. The set menu is priced at £125 per person, which, given London prices, is pretty fair and given the quality, excellent value. A vegetarian set menu is also available, and since the regular one leans toward legumes, I presume it only needs minor tweaking. There is just one meat-based main course and because you’re dining for three or four hours; you never feel stuffed. The leitmotifs are startling combinations of locally sourced and seasonal organic/biodynamically grown ingredients, freshness and texture. When I say that, I was so engrossed in the food that I didn’t notice that I hadn’t used any cutlery until the meat dish. It’s a tactile dining experience. Make sure you wash your hands before.

We enjoyed two amuse-bouches at the bar before our meal: a savory "cookie" and a trout tartare.

We begin with two amuse-bouches served in the reception area located by the entrance, where a wood burner roars away generating country “feels.” A bar serves cocktails, aperitifs and quite delicious non-alcoholic beverages to our right, and indeed, I order an apple and sorrel juice that is fabulous. I mean Somerset…apples…gotta be done, right? I enjoy meals whose “opening credits” start before being shown to our table, like at Moor Hall or La Petite Colombe. That ritual eases you in, sometimes encouraging mingling with fellow diners. One amuse-bouche is described as a “cookie”:  quail egg with a delicate mushroom and hazelnut shavings. The other is a trout tartare with slithers of radish and green apple, light and refreshing, revivifying the senses for what is to follow.

Escorted to our table, the waiter presents what you could describe as a “laconic” menu, a single word giving clues what to expect. I’ve reproduced it word-for-word at the top of this article. “We like to keep it a bit of a surprise,” he explains. Of course, with my intention of penning a Vinous Table, that obliges copious jotting down of ingredients during the meal.

The parsnip appetizer primed me for a dinner full of surprises.

I soon come to expect the unexpected. The first dish just says “parsnip.” What arrives mounted on what looks like a miniature Doric pillar looks nothing like your common or garden root veg. This parsnip, like all the vegetables grown in Osip’s own patch, is fried and coated with Toragashi, a Japanese spice made from chili, black and white sesame seeds, orange zest, ginger, Sichuan pepper and seaweed, and a garlic mayo. The earthy notes of the root vegetable are present but chaperoned with Oriental flavours. This is served with a small dish containing a deeply flavoured burnt garlic oil consommé that has a simmering intensity and deftly cleans the palate. In the middle of the table, a warm fermented potato bread that comes with a kefir cream and leek tapenade butter. I use this to mop up the delicious mushroom sauce that holds the parsnip in place. These dishes set the tone for the rest of the meal, forewarning the senses that they had better be alert because they were about to be spoiled rotten.

The pomelo packs a punch with its citrus flavors, sweet ricotta and expert seasoning.

The next dish has a citrus theme: thinly cut pomelo delicately placed into a bed of creamy ricotta and seasoned with bay leaf, tarragon and sesame seed. This is another that delivers intensity of flavour yet is light and refreshing, the citric pomelo perfectly balanced by the sweetness of the ricotta. Perhaps this is the most understated dish of the meal, but no less impressive.

The eel at Osip is sourced locally and proved delicate yet complex.

The next dish is centred around eel. The waiter informs us that these are local freshwater eel from Devon that tend to be especially complex in flavour. This eel is wrapped in baby gem lettuce and served with preserved cucumber, shiso leaf, smoked hay ketchup and apple. It is stunning. Nuanced yet focused in flavour, the shiso and ketchup lend spice and sweetness respectively yet never overwhelm the eel.

The celeriac course is another masterful rendition of a humble root vegetable.

The following course is entitled “celeriac.” This is served with a shiitake mushroom marmalade with cured egg yolk in the middle. It is warming and earthy, not overly heavy, with a lovely rootsy taste that lingers afterwards.

The beetroot taco was certainly unlike any taco I've ever encountered.

Next up, “beetroot tacos.” Of all the dishes, this is the one that holds the most surprises. The beetroot forms a taco made with corn flour that lends it a soft, malleable consistency and a little more sweetness. This comes with crème fraiche, a Mexican mole and liberally sprinkled shavings of dried venison heart from the following course so that nothing is left to waste. This is just sensational. Fabulous combinations of flavours, novel and again, not heavy.

The main course of deer, again sourced locally, blew me away.

Only now do a knife and fork appear. I’m in the mood for fallow deer rather than the optional chicken en croute that would have been an extra £50. Maintaining the local theme, the local venison is thinly sliced and served with green peppercorns, blood sausage, pork belly and a homemade quince marmalade. This is off the charts. The intensity of flavour, the marriage of ingredients that could easily have been too rich but instead have exquisite balance. It reminds me of one of Brett Graham’s creations at The Ledbury. The key is those peppercorns, which enhance the gaminess of the meat and combine beautifully with the tangy sweetness of the marmalade.  

The blood orange dessert was one of two complementary offerings, which together made for a perfect coda for our meal.

Two desserts complete the dinner. Blood orange comes in a rhubarb juice and pistachio oil, with a sorrel sorbet as the centrepiece. It electrifies the senses. This is followed by a soft meringue with chicory root ice cream and bergamot sabayon that is in perfect contrast to the blood orange, warm and sweet yet avoiding any cloyingness.

The wine list is well chosen even if a bit punchy at times in terms of pricing. That’s the norm these days. I have no complaints about the white, even when the sommelier forewarns that it is a bit on the “natty” side, allowing me to sample a glass beforehand. The 2023 IGP Terre Siciliane Note di Bianco from Alessandro Viola is a delight: 100% Grillo from Alcamo in Sicily that undergoes a natural ferment, then is raised in stainless steel and bottled unfiltered with minimal sulphur. There is a nutty, smoky oxidative element but it is well controlled, with scents of Anjou pear and persimmon emerging with time. It actually gains clarity. The palate is fresh and poised with a keen line of acidity and welcome salinity, revealing pear and subtle fish oil notes on the finish. I actually drank just half the bottle and drank the remainder the following day when I found it had lost absolutely none of its vitality.

The 1970 Grand-Puy-Lacoste is a prime example of a wine that upon decanting offers little. The sommelier is a bit wary and I advise him to just wait an hour. Sure enough, this Pauillac blossoms in the glass, mustering energy, depth and complexity from seemingly nowhere. The bouquet is fully mature with black fruit, cedar and scents from a stately home, cohering with each passing minute. The palate is unapologetically “old school” with a little rusticity, yet the tannins are fine and the acidity pitch-perfect, continuing to offer irresistible tobacco-tinged black fruit. This bottle had cost me just over £60 from a merchant.

Quibbles? The dining area is divided into two parts and we were in a section that felt cut off from the action by a thick interior wall. Sure, there is a cutaway where I could observe the main dining area, but I would have loved to have eaten whilst looking on at the kitchen. (To this end, I read somewhere that they are going to see if this can be rectified.) And my usual moan… I completely understand why the wine list is geared towards organic and biodynamic wines given that ingredients follow the same mantra. On the other hand, again, it ignores classic wine regions and producers with the same tenets.

Nevertheless, Osip is one of the most impressive meals I’ve had in the last couple of years. The setting is wonderful. The cooking is delicious. There is a sense of innovation and outside-the-box thinking that elevates it into two-star territory. Given that Osip only recently opened its doors in its present venue, the only way is up. The combination of Briar and Osip make a perfect weekend gastronomic getaway: the former more straightforward and homely, the latter adventurous and technically accomplished. Osip is due to complete the construction of four rooms at the inn for those that wish to slink upstairs after dinner, though No.1 Bruton Hotel is only a short taxi ride away. Everything just seems in place and that in itself will entice more to this part of England.

The bar has been set high for 2025.  

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