Puro, Clevedon: 'Do I wish Tommy Thorn were in Bristol proper and doing something a bit more adventurous? Of course'
Ex-Ethicurean head chef and Masterchef Professionals finalist Tommy Thorn has taken the reins at a seaside fine dining restaurant
Some argue that evolution has slowed, or even stopped. Some argue that evolution never existed in the first place. All are wrong; evolution is alive and well in the restaurant scene.
Natural selection, which has gotten a hell of a lot more selective due to recent price hikes and a useless government, continues to determine which restaurants make it. The phenomenon is impeded by over zealous PR companies and being bank-rolled by Daddy, but nature will always win out in the end.
As Darwin discovered (albeit not in a restaurant, the Galapagos islands are depressingly short of them), it’s all about the immediate environment in which an organism lives. A green tree python fares well in the rainforest due to its emerald hue disguise, but it would not last five minutes in the desert.
Don’t worry, you have not accidentally stumbled into a GCSE biology class. What I mean to say is that we must always evaluate a restaurant in its context and consider its environment. Ex-Ethicurean head chef and Masterchef Professionals finalist Tommy Thorn has recently been instated as new head chef of Puro, in Clevedon, which provides the perfect case study.
Clevedon, for those of you that haven’t visited, is a charming little seaside town half an hour away from Bristol. It has a beautiful old pier where One Direction once filmed a music video and a crab infested tidal pool that millennials visit to get their fix of cold water swimming. Puro is in upper Clevedon; the nicer bit on the hill.
When the weather is this diabolical in the middle of June, you sort of don’t mind being sat in a windowless basement with a genteel soundtrack and a battalion of cutlery. But if it had been sunny out I would’ve been gutted. You don’t come to the seaside to sit underground, no matter how good the food is. I feel a sudden lurch of empathy for Charlotte Ivers, who recently found herself in the rather good Seaside Boarding House but pining after windswept fish and chips.
In this particular basement you can choose from the tasting menu for £75pp, which features a rather ominous-sounding course ‘the conversion’ (I thought that had been banned?) or you can go a la carte. At Puro, a la carte still means you get three courses for £49.95pp and no individual dish is priced. I’d argue that is a set menu, but there we go.
Due to a pressing need to find a TV screen before Scotland v Germany, we opted for a la carte and I’m glad we did, though Scotland would have probably appreciated two less sets of eyes on that dismal performance.
I’m soon distracted from the rather vacant atmosphere and hotel foyer chairs by a honey glazed tennis ball brioche with marmite butter. It’s a cholesterol safe serving of butter, but other than that I have no notes. Ethereal, just sweet and finger lickin’ good; it’s not all that dissimilar to a good seaside doughnut. Tommy could easily sell these for just short of a fiver in Farro.
I’m not too fussed by the pre-starter beetroot gazpacho with wasabi ice cream and bits of apple. It’s the most delicate wasabi I’ve ever questioned the existence of. More appealing is the pork belly with its turnip, orange and nasturtium ensemble which when piled in together has the flavour profile of a very good roast dinner. Ideal.
The other starter of rainbow trout with pickled jalapeno, sea vegetables and oyster and cucumber sauce is enjoyable, but if there were indeed oysters in that sauce you wouldn’t know it.
Then lamb, three ways, with peas, three ways, and monkfish, one way, with carrot, three ways. Reassuring to know the chef can count to three.
Blushing lamb loin, confit belly and a fried sweetbread were artfully arranged with a wild mushroom buttery enough to make a vegan sweat but devoid of seasoning, and a pea and asparagus purée that I should very much like the recipe for. They dribbled over a bit of jus when they brought the composition to the table, but it does irk me how they always take the jug away again. What if I want more sauce?
Monkfish is a fish for people who wish they were eating meat, and as such satisfies neither category. It is a resilient and very ugly fish, one that confidently stands up to marinades and being slapped about on the bbq. Supposedly this monkfish had been barbecued, but I was none the wiser until just now when I was re-reading the menu.
Though the stuff around it is inventive and appeasing, monkfish is not the right choice for this dish. It is too plain. As such, your attention is drawn to its slight over-chewiness and general lack of flavour.
The waiter looked utterly bewildered when I asked if I could have just two courses - apparently such blasphemy had only been suggested twice before. I can see why now, the courses are… slight. She was probably trying to stop me from collapsing from hunger pains on the way home. Can’t fault the service. I didn’t want to disrupt the status quo and so between us we shared a chocolate crémeux and a ‘rhubarb and custard’ which would have been more accurately named ‘ginger’.
The crémeux is black forest gateau reinvented. Does black forest gateau need reinventing? I’d argue we should leave it in the 80s where it belongs. But for a certain crowd I’m sure it is wonderfully nostalgic.
‘Ginger’ as we shall hence refer to it was a ginger cake with thyme custard and poached rhubarb. Very good, very afternoon tea.
My next trips to Clevedon will be to visit Rise Bakehouse, or to get fish and chips still shivering after peeling off a wetsuit. Though there is no doubt it is skilled cooking, I will not return to Puro; it does not go far enough for me to get excited about it.
Patronising is not my intention here at all, but the food at Puro is likely to hold great appeal to the population of Clevedon, of whom 96.7% are white and over a third are over the age of 60. For many of them, I expect Tommy’s cooking will be just enough of something a bit different; rooted in the familiar but with the odd new age flavour of ‘gochujang’ and ‘shio koji’.
So, do I wish Tommy Thorn were in Bristol proper and doing something a bit more adventurous? Of course. His talent deserves space to grow, and I don’t think he will be able to push himself at Puro.
It is food that caters to the clientele on its doorstep, and therefore it will do well. Like the green tree python, Puro is a product of its environment. It is not for me, but it’s plain to see Tommy has adapted to his spot by the sea.
All words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour
Puro, 32-34 Hill Road, Clevedon BS21 7PH
Read next: