Cafe 24, Goodwood Art Foundation – Review

‘Please note: 24 is exclusively accessible to visitors with an entry ticket.’ Yes, in order to dine at 24, you need to buy a ticket which sounds counterintuitive to any traditional dining concept. But this, of course, is no traditional dining concept; this is dining with cultural interlude and countryside exploration at its heart. A solid two-hour drive from London, the Goodwood Art Foundation offers a glorious and sprawling seventy-acre site of prime British countryside which is protected from the main road by a lengthy stone-bricked wall topped with surveillance cameras. At its entrance, a smart-suited guard in a smart wooden slatted hut ticks off our names and directs us along an equally smart pebbledash drive to a smart car park. 

Header image Maria Bell photography

A quick walk through an almost perfect woodland and visitors are confronted by 24’s pavilionesque, space ship aesthetic. With its reflective and angular aluminium sides, it could hardly be more of a contrast to the verdant trees and foliage it stands between but it’s a statement design, for sure; something special beckons. Inside, bright vertical op art gleefully greets us. There’s no reception desk but a long corridor lit purely by skylight. Within the dining space, a notable calmness dominates; London is another city. The ceiling is a couple of storeys high so much of the sound dissipates above but even the open plan kitchen feels mollycoddled by a respect for the countryside which envelops it and is emphasised by 24’s large windows. If, inside, the overall illusion is one of convening with nature, there’s also a large outdoor terrace that destroys the illusion and makes it a reality.  

We remain inside and sit in the furthest corner from the entrance. A Yayoi Kusama sculpture yellows the greenery of a distant field. Nearer by, shadows flit on walls and cut geometric patterns. We order glasses of Rathfinny Classic Cuvée from East Sussex, a crisp and clean cut way to help us dissect the small menu which includes ‘Nibbles’, ‘Small plates’ and ‘Dessert’, except on Sundays when ‘Roasts’ are added. From the former, the homemade Sourdough is a must; light and fluffy but with a playfully crisp crust and marmite butter, which adds salty but subtle flavour. 

Our waitress recommends four to six plates, depending on hunger levels. With one exception which we ordered later, the plates arrive at the same time, which presents a small challenge to fit them on the table. The Seabass Crudo swims in a green flecked olive oil and is decorated with a sweet apple and cucumber salsa and three sliced jalapeños for a little kick. It’s an unusual but delicate and elegant combination. Likewise, the Sussex Fishcake; watercress pesto offers a sour twang to the saltier caper mayonnaise, both of which add succulence to the crispy, fish-laden cake.

The Goodwood Lamb Shoulder and the Chalk Stream Trout are the closest the menu has to mains. The former is super tender, slow-cooked and delicate, much like pulled pork in texture. The latter is chargrilled and clean and is accompanied by a bisque sauce. Both come with their own sides but we order more ‘dedicated’ ones. In visual terms, the Potato Fritter is the meal’s biggest surprise. Orange coloured in an orange sauce, it resembles a cubic asteroid, lands with all the exuberance and excitement of an unidentified flying dessert and is the closest option to comfort food. I stay away from the Charred Cabbage but my friend is very excited by it.

The 70% Chocolate Mousse follows in a similar vein to the above; traditional British cuisine with twist. The mousse is heady and silky and smooth and might even have a small slick of caramel on its bottom. On top, a cluster of nut crumbs mingle with honeycomb chunks for a decadent way to finish our meal. We sat down to eat at around 1.30pm and left for a walk around 3pm. Last entry is 4pm and the estate encourages visitors to leave by around 5pm.

With only two hours, we were a little tight on time, especially when there’s two small exhibitions to take in. The main gallery is dedicated to deceased American ‘land artist’ Nancy Holt, best known for her large-scale earthworks and site-specific installations. Including poems and type-writer art, Holt shows communication was way more frivolous and fun back in the ‘60s. There’s a 16mm film about the construction of her famous concrete Sun Tunnels and, most impressively, a specially constructed shiny aluminium fan/exraction system taken from Holt’s original design. Not only does it look like an integral part of the gallery’s structure but it also expands outside to look like a deliberate part of the exterior. The smaller gallery is devoted to Eva Rothschild who practices ‘material dissonance’ and often deals in brightly coloured, if not fluorescent objects of both two and three dimensions. Two tapestries have been specially commissioned for the space and were woven locally at West Dean College’s Tapestry Studio.

Other artists on display include Lee Ufan, Hélio Oiticica and Isamu Noguchi. Rachel Whiteread has one piece which looks like slick space age coffins beamed down from another dimension and one which represents her more urban and concrete ‘negative space’ period. With her erect and flesh coloured sculpture which resembles both an arm bursting from the ground and something(s) more phallic in nature, Rose Wylie suggests there’s more enjoyment to be gained in the countryside than anyone might imagine. Yayoi Kusama’s instantly recognisable sculptures seem a little over-exposed these days but the sight of two large, iconic, yellow and black spotted pumpkins slumped together in a massive English field is an undoubtedly joyous moment. That said, the standout piece for me is a site-specific aural installation by 2010’s Turner Prize-winning Susan Philipsz. Hidden in several trees, loudspeakers burst forth every seven minutes with music and lyrics derived from Elizabethan songs. Words evoke the woods as a site of gathering, exile and refuge, perspectives change and the audio is so crisp that I half expect the singers to reveal themselves. Although uplifting and pure in nature, it also conjures up images of witchcraft and Wicker Man-type horror films.

The Goodwood estate may be better known for its horse and car-racing events but owner, Duke of Richmond, is just as keen, if not more so, on art and with his art foundation, he’s amassed an impressive display of internationally renowned artists to prove it. From woods to fields to the occasional quarry or open space, the array of sculptures elevates the already beautiful landscape into a surreal and beguiling one. The sense of discovery, the anticipation for what might lurk around the next tree bark, the happy confusion as to how the sculptures interact with nature renders the experience magical and intriguing and fully engrossing.  Add the delightful 24 into the mix and this experience has all the trappings of a perfect day out.