A twenty-eight cover bistro at the end of Whitstable harbour. No fixed menu — the board is written each afternoon once we know what landed.
Why us
We buy off four day boats working out of the harbour. If the weather keeps them in, the menu is shorter — we would rather serve you less than serve you frozen.
One room, one sitting per table. Nobody will ask you to be out by half past eight, because we have not sold your table twice.
Forty bottles, all of which somebody here has actually drunk. Twelve by the glass, and we will happily open something for one glass if you are curious.
The room
In their words
“We came for one glass before the train and stayed for three courses. The chef came out to explain what the boats had brought in and I have thought about that turbot every week since.”
“I have eaten in a lot of seafood places on this coast. This is the only one where nobody tried to sell me a lobster that had clearly been in a tank since Easter.”
“Booked it for my mother's seventieth. They moved two tables together without being asked, and let us sit there until we ran out of things to say. Faultless.”
Midweek you can usually walk in. Friday and Saturday, please do ring — we only have fourteen tables and we hate turning people away at the door.