San Bas - Westerham

Above: Jim Lintorn, owner of San Bas

The minute you walk into this convivial, modern restaurant in the heart of Westerham, you know you’re in for something memorable. San Bas gives out a fantastic warm vibe, and its owner, Jim Lintorn, a charismatic “sarf” Londoner with oodles of charm, greets everyone by name and, if you’re lucky, a kiss.
“I want to make it feel like you’re coming into my home,” says Jim. “You’ve got to love what you do… or do something else.”
And love it he clearly does, comparing his restaurant to a theatre, and his own role akin to a “DJ playing to the crowds”. He also relishes being part of the Westerham scene, where the quota of places to eat has doubled in recent years – “it’s like a mini Blackheath here now” – and his clientele ranges from business people lunching during the week, to families, actors and musicians all enjoying what Jim calls “relaxed, fine dining.”

Space and light
The restaurant itself includes a central area of comfy leather sofas near the gleaming, granite-topped bar and an L-shaped eating area seating 50, although it appears larger through clever use of a mirrored wall to create space and light.
Chef Jay Maunder handles the menu of modern, European-style dishes with panache and is proud of his local food supply connections, including Chapmans of Sevenoaks for his meat and fish, plus Penshurst Fine Foods and Cottage Farm at Polhill. He and Jim also insist on full traceability on all food served.

You’ve got to love what you do… or do something else

The choice is excellent, with eight starters and 13 mains, three of them pasta dishes, and a particularly good proportion of vegetarian options. I went for the honey-marinated duck breast to start, which was served slightly pink with a refreshing salad of watercress, grapes, orange and pine nuts, while The Other Half tucked into his roasted red onion and Warlingham goat’s cheese tart with noises of great enjoyment.
Dithering over my main course, Jim spotted a fish lover and suggested I go for the line-caught wild sea bass because it would be three times as thick as any farmed variety, and infinitely tastier.
He was absolutely right, and the restrained accompaniments of tomato carpaccio and rocket dressed with basil oil really allowed the full flavour of the fish to shine.

A happy chap
Meanwhile, TOH was demolishing his Devonshire beef served with parsnip purée, wilted spinach and marinated kidneys like a very happy chap: “cuts beautifully”, “spot on” and “divine” were all I could decipher between mouthfuls.
Puddings are well worth leaving room for. My citrus panacotta with raspberry compote managed to be as pretty as it was delicious, but I’m afraid utterly eclipsed by the scene across the table where, to my absolute horror, TOH was attempting to lick his plate.
To be fair, he’d ordered the sticky toffee pudding, which comes with the chef’s grandma’s own special sauce – the same one Gary Rhodes uses, apparently – but, really, the mortification.
Fortunately, Jim found this ultimate sign of satisfaction highly amusing and we were allowed to enjoy our coffees and digest our meal in peace. And if some of us can improve our table manners, we’ll definitely be back.

Words by Sarah Sturt pictures by Manu Palomeque