For some months now, a former lawyer has been quietly building a reputation for turning out some of the best food in Wales from an old cowshed in Pembrokeshire. Michelle Evans - the woman behind Paternoster Farm - is entirely self-taught after quitting the rat race as a divorce lawyer.
She took the plunge and bought a small holding before initially starting out with a beach hut and focusing on street food. And it's fair to say she's come a long way since then.
She cooks from the heart and with a natural instinct, and the food is getting some rave reviews from "quirky and delicious," to "one of the best meals we've had in the UK". Paternoster Farm, not far from Hundleton, is undoubtedly a hidden gem.
And while it's the food that's got everyone talking, the setting itself is what really sets the dining experience apart. Foreknowledge is forewarned- Paternoster Farm is as off-the-beaten-track as you can get and there's only a tiny sign at the end of a proper farm track that gives you any indication of the culinary delights that are awaiting.
The restaurant admits that Google and Apple maps "don’t really seem to like our location", so you could follow the What Three Words directions - spirit.nourished.sticky - a happy coincidence which probably sums up the ethos of Paternoster perfectly. You'll arrive at the unassuming cowshed, whitewashed walls flaking and old farm equipment scattered about making quirky rustic features.
An old chalkboard scribbled "Way in" points to a battered old doorway bathed in soft orange light from bulbs strung up on the guttering. To push open the door is to enter a restaurant like no other - the former use of the building as a cowshed is never far away. The old original cow stalls have been retained and transformed into private dining tables while the old milking parlour pipes have been imaginatively remodelled into a lighting feature.
A battered old bright yellow Aga stands in one corner while old kitchen and farm utensils adorn the rustic stone walls. The cavernous roof with the original wooden rafters helps lend some light to the softly-lit space that's dim but not dark. In winter, a wood burning stove keeps it all warm and toasty.
A waitress springs to attention as we're seated at an old kitchen table, smoothed by years of scrubbing, and a set of mismatched chairs. There are cushions for more sensitive bottoms. Nothing matches and yet it's stylish and cosy.
The menu is changed every day, depending on what they’ve grown and have in season. You’ll find everything from locally caught oysters to home-reared beef and pork belly and if you’re lucky you might be able to catch one of their famous feast nights too. But the night we visit, a selection of sharing plates are on offer - we're advised to order between four and six plates for two people. It's not an extensive drinks list but we kick off proceedings with a Welsh cider - Bronwen 2020 - made in Powys which is lightly sparkling and the perfect aperitif with its soft tannins and chalky fruit flavour. Dishes come out as and when they're ready, the waitress tells us, before bringing us some sliced sourdough bread with homemade bacon butter.
First to arrive are three crispy wild mushroom and truffle arancini, served up with a slick of mayonnaise with a hefty garlic kick. The outside is beautifully crisp, giving way to a deep earthy rich mushroom filling. As soon as our plates are cleared, they are replaced with a platter of heritage tomatoes with soft creamy buffalo mozzarella. The tomatoes, drizzled in balsamic, are deliciously sweet and offer the perfect foil to the freshest of mozzarella with a light lemony tang.
Sweeping in from the side, our waitress replaces the empty plate with another dish, this time poached locally smoked salmon and potato salad. Rich and creamy, I'd happily polish off an entire plate of this if I had more of that sourdough to mop up the final smears of homemade mayonnaise. The fresh dill was a nice touch too and really lifted the whole dish.
It's worth noting all the meat served up to diners comes from either Michelle's farm next door or from within Pembrokeshire itself. Only the fish is sourced from further afield - Cornwall as it happens. She bought Paternoster Farm after quitting life as a lawyer and settled on cooking as her new career. She started off at the Street Food Circus in Cardiff in 2015, trading as the Slow Pig, where she slowly built her brand from a quirky beat-up van. Read more about that here. There followed a stint in Y Cegin in Pembroke - a food hall - before turning Paternoster Farm into a bricks and mortar setting for her cooking in 2020 when the pandemic struck.
The skate - served with asparagus picked from Angle walled garden less than five miles away that very day - is perfectly cooked: just translucent and flaking off in big juicy chunks. While the lamb - from the same fields we drove past on the way in - is meltingly soft and cooked to a sweetness that contrasts wonderfully with the zing from the pickled radish and courgette. It is a sublime pairing, especially with the tahini yogurt on the side.
It's clear to see that everything at Paternoster is about the food. When the raw ingredients are this good then Michelle's keen to showcase that rather than over complicate the cooking. She cooks with a remarkable ease and exudes gentleness as she methodically looks at the checks stuck up on the pass and ticks each dish off one by one with an old felt tip pen. It's a joy to watch between each plate.
Our final dish is a plate of Highland beef cooked in ale from the nearby Bluestone brewery until it's falling off the bone. Unctuous and deeply flavoured, it comes sitting on a buttery pillow of mash. Heaven on a plate. There was barely room for pudding, but we plumped for Torta Di Santiago and orange crème fraiche and a lemon posset with pink peppercorn shortbread.
After the meal, Michelle takes a brief moment to accept our words of gratitude for such a wonderful meal. Although we ordered everything all at once, the meal flowed perfectly - from the lighter tomatoes and fish at the start to the richer meat dishes at the end. It's all planned by Michelle, who remarkably keeps tabs on every table and gives each one the same unwavering attention. It's no mean feat when you consider it's just Michelle in the kitchen during service. It's hard work, she admits, but she loves it too. She speaks as gently as she cooks.
The restaurant is only open on Fridays and Saturdays - the rest of the week is taken up with the actual work of farming the small holding. Just three days after we visit, she's in the sheds shearing the flock of sheep they keep at Paternoster. And yet when you work this close to the very produce you put on a plate, there comes a deep and meaningful understanding. It's evident in the way Michelle cooks and the way her food sings on the plates. It's a real treat to eat food cooked with so much respect.
When we emerge from the shed, blinking in the rays from the setting sun, it's like time stood still for just a couple of glorious hours. Looking back at the modest building, it's difficult to believe what's on offer inside. You can sign up to our food and drink newsletter here.
