By Giles Adams
 
I was once informed that French schoolchildren are taught that William the Conqueror civilised England.
 
Doubtless some will splutter over their Earl Grey and cucumber sandwiches about that, but maybe there’s some truth in it. Were we all chewing rat pasties in 1065 and then a few years later discussing Plato whilst sipping oat milk cappuccinos?
 
East Somerset is changing, that is clear, but do we need civilising? If so, then in what areas? Manners, clothing, hairstyles, cars, dwellings, education? For the latter there is no shortage of existing choice – King’s Bruton was founded five centuries ago in 1519 and just down the road is Sexey’s, attended by my Uncle Norman and he became a solicitor don’t you know.
 
There is a serious point here however, and that is how cultural and demographic changes affect longstanding rural communities. Most of us have a sense of ownership in our environment and there are better social commentators than me to address this. It’s deep, intricate and nuanced – and such changes can be a lightning rod for those nurturing increasing levels of disenfranchisement, for whatever reason. If remote pubs disappear or train station cafés elite themselves, then some will see that as the fault of gentrification rather than a range of other factors. Whatever, I sense that the question around Bruton and Castle Cary is identity, is it becoming more confused, not less?
 
One area that indeed causes widespread interest is how we access food. The recent arrival of Greggs in Bruton has divided opinion. Commercial managers at national companies, tapping projections into spreadsheets at their HQ might be focussed on revenues and costs, rather than worrying whether their offer aligns with varied perceptions of local identity. If there wasn’t anticipated demand, then they wouldn’t be here. 
 
Why have I laboured on this point at the start of a restaurant review? 
 
Food can be perfunctory for some, yet a comprehensive experience for others, more civilised if you like to think of it that way. How do outlets sustain themselves, 365 days a year, often within small communities here in Somerset? It’s safer to be mainstream. It’s brave to be a pioneer. It’s wise to read the room.
 
I am also treading very carefully near, not in, the footsteps of renowned food writers who have appraised innovative restaurants here in Somerset over many years, balancing provocatively on the pivot between locals and freshers and prodding as to where the custom will come from.  Jonathan Meades wondered in 1998 where visitors to the newly opened Brazz in Taunton would park their combine-harvesters; more recently William Sitwell described locals to Holm restaurant in South Petherton as fat-fingered farming types. This was surprisingly accurate in the case of my father who farmed only a few miles from South Petherton and whose fingers I affectionally nicknamed ‘Bowyers’.
 
There is an aura of supreme gentleness around Merlin Labron-Johnson which infuses the former Bull Inn, now Osip restaurant on a quiet lane just south of Bruton at Hardway. A glance at the now redundant Facebook page of the previous business reveals a simple but poignant comment on one post, “That’s what I call a Pub”.
 
Merlin does not give the impression of carrying the weight of that legacy but instead is implementing his own vision that embraces something that we all forget we are standing on here; soil.
 
It is a vertical integration like no other. Our table looked out through the open kitchen via plate glass over fields, a total absence of culinary histrionics – just a calmness. I’ve lingered in noisier art galleries.
 
The ethos of integration from field to plate is not unique, however the implementation here is. The team have all spent time picking and foraging on the local plots of land that Merlin has developed, improving and nurturing that soil, initially to grow vegetables, quickly followed by fruit and herbs.
 
Merlin grew up surrounded by farming and rural life at Buckfastleigh and suitably his first job was at the nearby Ashburton Cookery School. Such was his enthusiasm he lied about his age to get in – at only 15.
 
After a few months learning the basics, he moved to The Elephant in Torquay and then on to working for Michael Caines. Following that Merlin worked around Europe – Switzerland, France, Belgium, London and then back to the west country, collecting many awards en route, including renewed Michelin (Feb 2025).
 
“I try to create a menu every day that reflects the landscape, so that when people come here eating food they feel that they are in Somerset,” Merlin explained. “The summer menu is more vegetable-centric, winter brings more prevalence of meat. I originally planned the menu to comprise mainly of vegetables rather than an emphasis on meat, however I discovered Stream Farm in the Quantock Hills which is run by an amazing team, producing organic pork, lamb, chicken, duck as well as trout, apple juice and honey. Our team spent a day there learning about it all”.
 
“It’s very fashionable now to have this local produce concept, obviously it’s great but we want to serve the best possible ingredients all the time. We are lucky in that we have world-class produce in our area, it’s a great region. We use Westcombe Dairy which is another example of a superb local supplier. I am French-trained, my techniques are French but the produce is all local.”
 
The tasting menu format brings together the strands of supply on a daily basis – hence each day is unique and you sit diligently, yet calmly – in a way camouflaging yourself – whilst the sequence of courses arrive over time.
 
As an illustration, for us it’s Westcombe that kicks off the tasting menu, the red gougere, fermented carrot Lardo with caramelised walnut being delicate yet perfectly stimulating.
 
However it’s another early arrival of baby gem, smoked eel, kay baked apple parsnip, black garlic in a togarashi beetroot taco that stands tall in my memory. It was a perfect example of innovation, off the scale in creativity, small but perfectly formed and a provocative example of the simplicity here at Osip.
 
Subsequent appearances of Jerusalem artichoke, Cornish monkfish, Pekin duck are just some examples of one of the most remarkable dining experiences I have ever had. Each were delicate, aesthetic beyond measure and all singing to their provenance.
 
Osip?
 
Well, I had to ask where the name originated. Merlin kindly revealed how creativity is in his genes, “My mum was a gallery curator, dad a poet. Osip was my name for a couple of weeks when I was born, but then they changed to my middle name, Merlin.”
 
“Osip Mandelstam was a Soviet Jewish poet during the Stalin era, a cult time for literature and dad is a huge fan.  I like the name, there’s a deeper meaning for Osip – he who brings plenty.”
 
Civilised, yes. Preaching, no.
 
www.osiprestaurant.com
Lunch menu £95
Evening £125
Accommodation rooms coming soon.