It’s a brave thing to change a restaurant that people already love. Especially when that restaurant happens to be a pub in the Cotswolds where people have become rather attached to the idea that Sunday lunch should involve a serious quantity of beef, potatoes in at least two forms and enough gravy to make a cardiologist nervous. The Halfway at Kineton had established itself as exactly that sort of place. Under Nathan Eades and Liam Goff, it became a destination for people who appreciate cooking that takes its job seriously without taking itself too seriously. It was a proper pub, doing rather wonderful things with food, and people were happy to tell you about it.
But restaurants, like people, are allowed to change their minds. And so The Halfway has embarked on a new chapter with the arrival of Zonda, a pizza operation bringing a little Italian inspiration to this corner of Gloucestershire. Nathan mentioned to me some time back that he was thinking of turning it into a pizza restaurant, though I batted it immediately to the back of my mind. Why would he do that to somewhere so brilliant? His other pubs – Pub on The Hill and Hollow Bottom – are the first reason why. Turns out you can have too much of a good time in such a small area. Secondly, and somewhat more importantly, he knew something that I never at the time: that Zonda was way too good to just be serving out of the local rugby club.
It’s not hyperbole to say that Zonda is up there with the best pizza I have ever eaten in my life, and that’s from a bit of a pizza purist who eats the stuff so much that my local estate agent suggested I slow down. The technical part that you likely don’t care for is this: a hybrid dough that uses two types of wheat and both 00 and bread flour, which – you also probably don’t care for – is a style that is used for a more consistent and less temperamental dough than straight-up sourdough. And yet this is nothing like the versions I’ve tried so often; the dough here has levels of hydration that a neapolitan would be proud of, packed with a flavour that sits somewhere between lactic and nutty and a cook that just about holds its form when cut. It’s not London style, because London style doesn’t exist, but my biggest complement is they absolutely would claim it as their own if they could be prised out of Berenjak in Soho Farmhouse on their weekend jaunts to the countryside.
We tried two over a quick lunch. Both are utterly brilliant and free from any restraint or rule. It comes to something when I tell you that the one involving pineapple is the more conventional, and yet here we are. Pepperoni, chorizo crumb, pineapple salsa, spiced pineapple honey, high quality buffalo mozzarella, and a tomato base that loiters intently in the background. It never once feels too sweet thanks to the blitzed bits of smokey chorizo. And then the pad kra pao special; pork mince full of umami and heat, thai basil, mozzarella and tomato. I wasn’t going to order it and yet I am so glad that I did; it’s every bit as good as the ragu pizza at Napoli on The Road which makes it into the top two I have ever had. It works because if you strip it back to its raw components it’s basically a more fragrant and herbal ragu pizza, and now that I’ve had it once I have the problem of wanting it again, which is fine if it wasn’t a seventy minutes drive from Harborne. I’m loath to mention the dip because it will be copied everywhere. A blend of crispy chilli oil and mayonnaise, so simple, so obvious, and yet so insanely delicious. £48 for two pizzas, a dip, a pint, and a soft drink. Not the cheapest but nor should it be. A week on, and I’m still thinking about the pizza here, and Sophie is suggesting we book a room nearby, go for another and walk it off after before retiring to a pub with a roaring fire for the evening. I really think she is on to something.
10/10
