It’s 8.30pm on a Monday in mid-July. The sun is setting over an empty beach, casting coral hues over the rippling ocean.
As I watch the waves gently lap the shore, the scent of fresh seafood wafts on the warm breeze.
Beth, our smiling waiter, tells me the catch of the day is red snapper, served with roscoff onions, new potatoes, chive beurre blanc, and sauce vierge.
The only clue that suggests I’m not dining in the south of France is the addition of Isle of Wight tomatoes.
Let’s backtrack. Earlier this year, I wrote about how much I love this diamond-shaped island, which has been my home for the past four years.
Naturally, I raved about the beaches — some so beautiful they rival the Caribbean — but I also spotlighted the blossoming culinary scene.
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The Hut in Colwell Bay, the Mediterranean-inspired restaurant I now find myself in, is widely considered the island’s most famous — and exclusive — eatery. It’s also said to be the most popular seaside restaurant in the UK.
However, as someone who lacks the budget for regular fine dining, I have to admit that before I was invited to eat here, I was skeptical.
As a resident, I’ve long heard stories of celebs, from Kate Winslet to Benedict Cumberbatch, crossing the Solent on a speedboat for a beachfront dinner. People often arrive by helicopter, too.
A well-known ‘yachty’ hotspot, everyone knows that this is where the affluent go to eat and drink. A 75cl bottle of Domaine Leflaive Batard-Montrachet Grand Cru, a French white wine, will set you back a cool £2,625.
I don’t have to tell you it’s not the most affordable of joints.
But, even though our journey to the roof deck was less than glamorous behind the wheel of my Fiat Panda, once we arrived, the experience was truly top class.
From the minute you arrive, staff treat you like you’re the only diners in the room.
The reality is you’re not: even though it’s a Monday night, the restaurant is full.
The Hut is infamous for being booked up months in advance, so you need to plan ahead in a major way. You can join the waiting list, but that doesn’t guarantee you a table on your desired date.
Still, that only adds to the exclusivity.
There’s a buzzy holiday vibe about the place. Despite living 40 minutes down the road, my partner and I both agree we could be in the Med.
People who have eaten here before say it’s like going on holiday for lunch, and honestly, I get it.
As designated driver, I beeline for the mocktail list. I order the ‘Coastal Spritz,’ a refreshing fusion of blood orange, basil, and tonic.
At £10, it does feel pricey for a non-alcoholic drink, but the whole dining experience — especially for the average earner — is designed to be a treat.
Case in point: we sit next to a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary, who are given complimentary champagne on arrival.
Jacob, my partner, tries The Hut’s signature cocktail, The Painkiller. A Piña Colada-style beverage with aged rum, crème de coconut, and pineapple juice, he says the £15 price tag is worth every penny.
But we’re not just here to make our way through the drinks list — the food is the main event. The restaurant is known for seafood and grilled meats, and as an avid foodie, I can’t wait.
We start with the fish tacos at £15 per head: two juicy pieces of battered cod served in fresh tortillas with baja sauce, green mole, wasabi soy, and coriander. The starter is so good, I stop what I’m doing to text my sister.
She needs to know they’re the best fish tacos I’ve ever had.
Next, we try the tom yum goong, one of our favourite dishes when we were travelling in Thailand. The hot and sour shrimp soup with coriander and lime is so flavourful and fragrant that I’m transported straight back to Koh Tao.
I won’t deny that in the weeks leading up to our trip, the star of the show — lobster — was on my mind. Like many, the dish is not a regular occurrence for me.
The last time I dined on a freshly caught crustacean was in Hong Kong back in March. The succulent meat, drenched in a sweet and sticky sauce, is a meal I talk about at least once a week.
Here, it’s served with fries, salad, and dripping in garlic butter. It’s freshly caught in Yarmouth, one of the main fishing hubs on the island.
A 700g portion (which I naively assume is enough for two) costs £78. I demolish the whole thing.
Luckily, Jacob opts for the seabass, which comes with seaweed dumplings, surf clams, and braised chicory for a more affordable £34.
It’s heaven on a plate, I’m told.
As I lean against the glass balcony, which offers panoramic views of the bay, I ask myself if this place really lives up to the hype.
Yes, it’s expensive. But the food, hospitality, and immersive holiday-style experience are worth every penny.
The Hut, I’ll be back.
