Food review: 'Simple seafood done well' at new Aldeburgh restaurant

We find a space practically outside The Suffolk (the soon-to-open hotel Sur-Mer is found within). The competitor in me does an imagined air punch of joy. Yes, I am that sad.

Avoiding the downpour, so ferocious some look soaked to the bone, we hotfoot it down the path leading to Sur-Mer’s entrance, where the clap of rain on pavement is replaced by a cacophony of chatter – the sweet sound of laughter and gossip and glasses clinking. It’s an energy I missed in lockdown, and have rarely heard since. This place is busy.

But it is new, and there’s a justifiable curiosity about the restaurant, which began as an on-a-whim pop-up during the height of lockdown, bringing Soho’s L’Escargot experience to the coast, and has now become a permanent fixture in the town.

Sur-Mer is classy, yet not overtly so. The dining room’s pinches of marine blue, scalloped seating and uplighters and Aldeburgh-themed prints are the only nod to its seaside location.

Otherwise, all focus is on the food. In fact, we spend hardly any time ruminating on the decor. We’re too distracted by wafts of lobster being bused to tables as we walk in.

While we can’t see out through the high windows, we take a table closest to the beach and are handed some of the smartest menus we’ve seen in a while – bound in tactile books, and a world away from greasy, fingerprint-smeared pieces of paper.

At a glance, what I can tell you is Sur-Mer isn’t cheap.

Starters are priced to the tune of £8 to £16, main courses average at the £25 mark (with sides/veg needed, at £6 a pop), and desserts cost around £9.

But then, Sur-Mer isn’t setting out its stall to be a low-cost alternative to high street chains. The owner’s ethos is to take the very best local and British ingredients the kitchen can lay their hands on, and to make those main elements the star, with little fuss, and a lot of focus on classic technique.

Seafood is locally-landed (including native lobsters), supplemented by hand-dived scallops and crab from Devon. Dairy is sourced from Fen Farm in Bungay. Salads are picked up the road at White House Farm. And rare breed meat comes from Salter & King, just across the road.

The menu is complemented by an enticing-sounding cocktail list, and carefully chosen selection of wines, with several bottles reaching outside the sphere of classic Old World and New World.

Take the Voltes from Greece’s Monemvasia Winery in Tsimbidi as an example. Not what might typically be suggested alongside seafood – but with a slight, almost sherry-like salinity, a burst of ripe melon, and hints of grapefruit, it’s a match made in heaven for shellfish.

We order a glass. And I also sample the Suffolk Sailor cocktail, purely because I like the name and can’t make my mind up otherwise.

It's tart, but rounded, and easily quaffable, blending gold rum, gooseberry, peach, plum and lime juice.

My heart sings as two plates of toothsome sourdough arrive. One plate each. No fighting to the last crumb (or is that just me?).

Shortly afterwards our starters arrive – and there are three as we genuinely couldn’t make a decision.

When simplicity is your USP there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully each plate hits the mark.

Hand-dived scallops, served in the shell, are fresh-as-you-like, cooked to perfection, and riff off a melting puddle of Dingley Dell nduja, which brings fire, but doesn’t overwhelm their sweetness.

The crispy cod cheeks are equally sublime. Lightly coated, they’re crisp without, and tender within. A spoonful of homemade curried tartare over each is sensational. A little piquant, a little tangy. There’s a smack of salt now and then from the sprinkling of seaweed powder. At this point I just want a bucket of these morsels, and a plate of chips!

Both the above starters arrive in shells on top of seaweed – the only concession the chefs have made in dressing plates simply. I’m sure it’s perfectly fine to eat, but it’s not part of the dish – and you always have that one person...that one person...who doesn’t ‘get it’.

Its appearance reminds me of a couple of stories. One at a well-known restaurant where a customer tried to eat the raw grains of barley her canape cone had been presented in (she complained).

And another of an old colleague of mine. Visiting what was considered at the time an ‘upmarket’ high street chain, she ordered a sharing platter, which arrived on a board, atop two tins of olives.

Staff didn’t question her request for a tin opener, but were slightly shocked (she was mortified) when they came to clear the table, only to discover she’d opened the tins and eaten the contents, thinking they were part of the meal!

Anyway, back to those starters, and the biggest surprise for me is Sur-Mer’s take on dressed crab. I know deconstructed food gets on some people’s wick but, done well, it can be as good as, or even surpass the original.

And I do think Sur-Mer have created something pretty special in concocting their dressed crab. Devoid of the shell (which is pretty to look at but serves no purpose on the plate), this comprises of lightly pressed, sweet sweet white crab meat, bound in a dressing with snippets of chive, and served with a slightly smoky, citrussy avocado puree, pickled cucumber and a quenelle of brown meat, bursting with the essence of the sea. A round of toast is perched on the side for scooping. As my son would say, it is “absolutely banging”.

My husband hits the jackpot with his main course of golden-crusted barbecued monkfish over a tangle of sweet leeks, doused in a rounded, rich and moreish butter with a hint of spice. It's faultless.

I’ve gone for the special of the day – cod fillet stuffed with lobster in a lobster bisque.

It’s nice enough, but doesn’t have me in raptures. It looks a little sloppy – and would have benefitted from the bisque being poured at the table so it hadn’t spattered around the bowl. The bisque is missing a little seasoning for me. And although the cod is tender, the lobster farce inside is a bit on the rubbery side.

We’d ordered a few sides (including a bowl of greens to make us feel a bit more saintly).

The skin-on house fries are amazing. Truly. Completely dry and fluffy inside, with a pleasing crunch that makes us both go ‘ooh’. We're given a pot of homemade garlic aioli for dunking. This is bliss.

There’s not a great deal of smoky flavour from the smoked hasselback potatoes, though.

Plating of our final courses, is an exercise in restraint. You will not find mint leaves or dustings of icing sugar or cocoa powder on your pud at Sur-Mer.

We hear the chef who crafted the lemon tart has been making it for decades. And that skill shows. The pastry crackles under the spoon. The curd/custard filling is glossy with the kind of clarity only patience and good judgement can achieve. And it’s all at once creamy and sharp, with a burnt sweetness from the thin bruleed top. Wonderful.

My dessert of chocolate delice could, I feel, do with a tweak. Delice usually has a ratio of around a quarter to a fifth of sponge or biscuit to mousse/ganache topping. Here it’s more 50-50, and somehow the two halves haven’t meshed together – the chocolate layer falling onto the plate when I cut it. That said, it’s tasty. The quality of the chocolate is apparent. And the salted caramel, with an almost cinder toffee flavour, is spoon-lickingly good.

All in all, a respectable meal that pays homage to Suffolk’s multitude of brilliant producers, run by staff who seem to passionately care about what they do.

We will return. Maybe when the roof terrace has opened, where we can perch and enjoy views over the shoreline.

Booking is advisable at the-suffolk.co.uk where you can also make advance bookings for the accommodation. There’s no onsite parking at The Suffolk/Sur-Mer but there is free on-road parking (with a time limit) and the premises are within walking distance of the town’s car parks.