Back Seat Gourmand: The Shed. No tears.

Soon we’ll be leaving this lovely part of London and if there’s a place I wish we could take with us, it’s the Shed.

No, not our shed - though I am rather fond of it now, having done a timely re-felt with the BSG last autumn before Noah’s rains arrived. I mean The Shed, a very lovely nook of a place run by a pair of cheery and talented brothers in Notting Hill. With the menu changing every week, there’s a strong emphasis on seasonal produce (many sourced from the family farm and vineyard in Sussex) and each ingredient is seldom anything but exquisitely treated. If there’s ever a place that urges you to treasure and savour every component on the plate, it’s The Shed.

Across the board, from game and fish to veg and foraged ingredients, seasonal food is the VIP. I often imagine it sitting on a plumped up cushion in its crate or box as it awaits its time to shine in the kitchen. Speaking of which, you may want to ask for a ‘comfortable’ perch when you call to book a table, especially if, like me at the moment, you can’t quite manage a tractor-seat stool, legs astride an oil barrel gracefully. But I ‘spose that’s better than you’d get in my shed…

With small sharing plates between you, you come out feeling happily sated rather than stuffed. However be warned: you may get overexcited… Even off the sauce (instead we sipped on a delicious blood orange loosener with rosemary sugar and lime), we racked up a fair amount. Four plates between two (and three quarters), plus pudding made for a very good lunch indeed.

I am hooked: I went twice this week. I realised I’d already been three times - without the BSG. Criminal. Plus, if we got in there on Saturday, he’d still be lucky enough to catch the perfection that was the pear tart I tried on Thursday, made with cooked down Comice pears alongside a hazelnut praline cream. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

(Still, I hope to take a bit with me – they tell me they’ve a cookbook coming out soon. Goody.)

Here’s what we ate. Purty, ain’t it?