Off to the Counter, a new restaurant in Royal Tunbridge Wells, Britain’s most civilised, leafy postcode. This is the land of the white-linen-trousered lady of leisure, striding along the Pantiles, brunching at the Ivy, then heading off for a tootle around Fenwick followed by coffee at Basil, an independent cafe that serves the UK’s best brownies. My imaginary life as a better, glossier, more gentrified Tunbridge Wells woman would feature all of the above, perhaps even with a dachshund in my armpit, seeing as that seems obligatory round here, along with a car strewn with hair and hay. The Counter by Robin Read recently entered this glorious fray with a tasting menu-only restaurant in an elegant, modernist, navy blue space. Gosh, this is a gorgeous room: rustic floorboards, high ceilings painted black, spotlights, peculiar art, fine cutlery and informal yet sleek, kind service. “Tasting menu-only?”, I hear you whimper. Is this one of those places where the chef keeps you hostage for hours and feeds you only small, tarted-up plates of their imagination, all hewn in heritage parsnip and hawthorn sap? Well, yes. Yes, it is. But if anyone is going to enforce a tasting menu on me, I’d like it to be Robin Read. His culinary journey has been irrefutably impressive, starting off with the Roux brothers, moving on to a stint with Nico Ladenis, and then one with Marco Pierre White at Mirabelle, with time at Le Gavroche and the Square in the mix, too. If anyone knows about tweezering tiny shards of loveliness on to crockery at a pleasing pace, and leaving you full rather than fractious, it is Read. Here at the Counter, there is a five- or eight-course option, plus a 10-course one if you perch at the kitchen counter within touching distance of the man himself. Otherwise, you can just sit at a table, which are beautifully spaced apart, and talk openly without being heard. Read, rather obviously, wants to centre his menus around the best seasonal, local produce, and to maximise all his ingredients to minimise waste. So, if you see the words “malted sourdough with waste vegetable broth” on his menu, please be aware that the tiny mug of aromatic siltiness that turns up with the hunks of fresh bread is very much as it claims: waste veg, stewed. Read says this is only “good housekeeping”, and I’m certainly not going to argue. The eight-course menu began with a small chalk stream trout tart, slightly bigger than an amuse-bouche and laden with beetroot and bronze fennel. Then, after the “waste broth”, some balm-like ricotta with freshly podded broad beans and peas, as well as notes of kohlrabi and nocellara olive. Read clearly loves to experiment with vegetables, fusing ideas that are not often experienced. All of these initial courses were, in fact, generous; in a “normal” fancy place, the ricotta, for example, would have been egg-cup-sized, but here you get a sense that Read’s insistence on serving only tasting menus comes from a place of practicality. You will be fed heartily and, by doing it this way, less goes into the bin. Small, plump jersey royals arrive in a slick of watercress veloute dotted with smoked eel. It is pond-green, stinky and very tasty. Seaweed-baked john dory comes on a spring vegetable pot au feu with local guanciale and lovage. The main event was roast saddle of Sussex lamb, still quite rare, with ribbons of courgette arranged in a pretty rainbow, an aubergine sauce and a rich, oregano-spiked jus gras. It’s hard to fault anything about the Counter, because this is precise, accomplished cooking that feeds you classily but plentifully, then aims to finish you off entirely with the dessert courses. I am an absolute sucker for the end of any tasting menu that bombards the guest with sweetness. First there was a rich blackberry sorbet with an oxbow lake of fig oil, then an exquisite creme fraiche parfait with a glazed, nutty, linseed biscuit topping, all bedecked with gooseberry compote and elderflower gel and, finally, a set of boxes called “the sweet treat tower” containing soft fresh fudge, caneles and chocolates. I am heavily pro such moments at the end of clever, slightly worthy dinners, when the kitchen suddenly reveals its inner Willy Wonka and starts treating the Veruca Salt in all of us with pure imagination. The Counter is delicious and charming, and my love for Tunbridge Wells remains unbridled. The Counter 77 Calverley Road, Tunbridge Wells, Kent, 07828 968578. Open lunch Thurs & Fri, noon-2.30pm, dinner Weds-Fri 6-11pm, Sat noon- 11pm. Tasting menus only: lunch £40 for three courses, dinner £60 for five courses, £95 for eight courses, £125 for 10 courses, all plus drinks and service. Listen to the latest episode of Grace’s Comfort Eating podcast here