Kitchen Tales

Ex Dairy Cote de boeuf, sirloin and beef tartare. Locally reared.

Less than 10 miles from field to butcher, and onto our hearth. Another tale from our kitchen about our sustainable suppliers, meet Walter Rose & Sons.

02/12/25

There's a particular satisfaction in knowing exactly where your hearth-flamed meats come from. Not just the county or the postcode, but the field, the farmer, the family who've worked that land for generations.

At Emberwood, we've built our menu around these connections. It's less about grand statements and more about quiet consistency, the kind that comes from picking up the phone to Stephen at Walter Rose and asking what's ready, what's good, what the fields are proud of this week.

Walter Rose & Sons, Stokes Farm, Westcombe Dairy

Delivered daily to our door. Walter Rose & Son, established by great-grandad Bob in 1928, has been run by an inherited family member, Stephen Cook, since the 1970s. Seven family members are at the core of the business, and their names and meats are celebrated across the South West. The family supplies by their core values: exceptional quality meat, an unrivalled level of outstanding service, and the best local, high-welfare farms.

Which leads to Chef Dave's call, the daily order that's placed and arrives. Our dry-aged beef is chanted about from the rooftops by food critics who have dined. It's a moment for our team to share the word of our supplier, and who our 'farmer with the cows', Tim, really is.

Butchered by Walter Rose & Son and reared by Tim at Stokes Marsh or Westcombe Dairy Farm, Aberdeen Angus and Hereford crossed herds on his farm in Coulston, Wiltshire. Less than ten miles from our kitchen. His cattle graze on land that's been in the Johnson family for four generations, and everything, from feed to fertiliser, is produced on site. Organic waste goes back into the soil. Energy generated powers the farm. It's a closed loop, the kind of farming practice that makes sense when you stop and think about it.

The cattle travel less than ten miles from farm to abattoir to butcher. Minimal stress. Minimal food miles. Maximum integrity.

Into our kitchen, then onto the pass

A dry-aged côte de boeuf, marbled and rich. Beef shin for our stout pie, slow-braised until it falls apart, served with cavolo nero and celeriac. These are the centrepieces, but they're not the whole story.

Seasonal vegetables deserve equal billing. Chargrilled heritage carrots, sweet and earthy. And something a little more earthy, pickled beetroot on a bed of hung yoghurt, singing of bleak winter's gems.

New Year, Classic Traditions

We're skipping the typical January narrative, urgency, fresh starts, and the guilt of indulgence. Instead, we're continuing the late winter tradition of hearty meats, roasted vegetables, and keeping Sundays a sacred day for feasting together.

Our roast is an antidote to the chaos. Côte de boeuf, dry-aged and generous, carved at the pass because some rituals are worth preserving. Or, for those who think lamb is right for the winter-into-spring months, there's that too. It arrives with the things that matter: potatoes roasted in lardo with rosemary, vegetables pulled from winter soil, Yorkshire puddings made properly.

The season of celebrating is over, but sitting down for a meal, staying for a while, and remembering that not everything needs to be optimised or improved, that continues. Some things are better off simple. A table full of people, a joint of meat that travelled ten miles, and the permission to take your time.

That's how we're starting the year. Book a table for January.