May 29, 2026 |
Along Brighton’s bustling beachfront, where gulls cut through the air above crashing waves and the scent of salt drifts in from the sea, seafood restaurants line the promenade one after another. But among the sun-faded pubs, ice cream kiosks and tourist-heavy terraces, The Salt Room immediately feels more considered. Reopened on Friday May 22 following a four-month refurbishment, the long-standing Brighton favourite has returned with a sharper identity, a smarter space and a menu that understands exactly where it is.
Led by executive chef Kim Woodward – the Gordon Ramsay protégée and first female head chef in the Savoy Grill’s 126-year history – the restaurant’s relaunch centres around a new open kitchen, a fully weather-glazed terrace and a flexible sharing-style menu built around locally sourced seafood and fire cooking. It’s a refresh that could easily have tipped into style over substance, but two days after reopening, the restaurant already felt entirely settled into itself.
We visited on Sunday May 24, during Brighton’s first properly warm weekend of the year, and every table was occupied with the relaxed confidence of people clearly planning to stay awhile. Sitting slightly elevated above King’s Road, the restaurant looks directly over Brighton beach towards the remains of the West Pier and the i360 tower, with sailboats moving slowly across the horizon beyond the windows.
Inside, the redesign softens the space without losing the atmosphere that made people return in the first place. Terracotta tiled floors, exposed brick arches and lime-washed walls brighten the room while hanging greenery and wicker-backed seating stop it from feeling overly polished. There’s a vaguely Mediterranean ease to the interiors without veering into themed restaurant territory. My Australian friend summed it up almost immediately: “It feels like somewhere in Sydney.”
The terrace is clearly the centrepiece of the refurbishment and understandably so. Fully enclosed but adjustable depending on the weather, it manages to feel open to the seafront without exposing diners to Brighton’s famously unpredictable wind. As temperatures shifted throughout the evening, staff subtly adjusted the glazed panels around us, keeping the breeze controlled without shutting out the atmosphere outside. It’s exactly the kind of space Brighton has needed more of – somewhere that works beyond the two weeks of guaranteed summer Britain occasionally offers.
The new open kitchen adds another layer of movement to the room. From our table we could watch chefs working the pass, plating dishes under warm lights while flames kicked up from the grill behind them. Near the centre of the restaurant, a newly installed fridge displays the daily deliveries of whole fish, cuts of British wagyu, sirloins and T-bones, which are all then hung and prepared in-house. Even before ordering, there’s an immediate sense of the restaurant wanting guests to engage with the ingredients themselves rather than simply the finished plate.
And there is a lot to choose from. Oysters by the half dozen, seafood towers, tuna tartare served on ice, whole grilled fish to share, shellfish bowls and caviar-topped sandwiches all sit alongside premium British meat and vegetable-led dishes. It’s ambitious without becoming overcomplicated. Importantly, despite its seafood-heavy reputation, the menu never alienates people outside of that category. I don’t eat meat and my friend doesn’t eat fish or dairy, yet both of us had more options than we knew what to do with.
We started with the Edamame Guacamole served with tortilla chips, pico de gallo, tomatillo and salsa macha. It arrived vibrant, green and generously portioned, balancing creamy avocado with enough acidity and spice to stop it becoming overly rich. Then came the whipped cod’s roe with dill oil and trout roe, accompanied by tiny, skeletal fish-shaped biscuits and focaccia bread. The presentation could easily have felt gimmicky but didn’t. The cod’s roe itself was exceptionally smooth, almost airy, while the trout roe added bursts of salinity throughout.
I also ordered 30g of the Salted Baerii Cornish Exmoor caviar, served with blinis, sour cream, spring onions, chopped boiled egg and ready salted crisps. There’s Imperial Oscietra available too for anyone wanting to lean further into excess. The crisps were a smart touch – less formal than traditional accompaniments and somehow more satisfying for it.
For my main, the Cornish crab linguine with garlic, lemon, chilli and fresh herbs was exactly the sort of dish that works on a warm afternoon by the sea. The crab was generous, sweet and evenly distributed throughout the pasta rather than clumped into occasional bites. Everything tasted fresh without trying too hard to announce itself as such.
My friend ordered the 350g British wagyu sirloin steak alongside Iberico pork ribs glazed with tamarind habanero and served with apple and fennel salad. The ribs arrived sticky and lacquered with just enough heat cutting through the sweetness while the steak delivered exactly what you’d hope from something presented so prominently in the restaurant’s new ageing display.
Sides were equally strong. The Grilled Peppers of the World with extra virgin olive oil and sherry vinegar gastrique leaned deeply Mediterranean – smoky, soft and slightly sharp – while the Jersey Royal potato bake with onion, olive and tomato had a rich, almost southern French quality to it.
The drinks programme deserves attention in its own right. Alongside English sparkling wines and a strong partnership with Sussex producer Wiston Estate, the list stretches across French, Spanish and Italian wines, orange wines, rosés and a broad cocktail selection that feels genuinely thought through rather than added as an afterthought.
My friend drank the Wiston Estate Blanc de Blancs, produced just 20 minutes from the restaurant in Sussex, and immediately compared it to Champagne – a significant endorsement from someone who almost exclusively drinks the latter.
I started with the Melon and Kiwi Daiquiri made with Takamaka Blanc and Overproof rum, galia melon, kiwi and lime, followed by the Strawberry and Rooibos Spritz with Strawberry Aperol and Pet-Nat Rosato. Both felt tailored for long afternoons overlooking the water. But the standout was the Margarita Verde, repeatedly recommended by our server Michael despite my insistence that I don’t like margaritas. Eventually I gave in. Made with Guajillo Cazcabel Blanco, aquachile lime juice and agave, it was savoury, citrus-led and unexpectedly balanced, with a finish that almost resembled ceviche marinade. I ordered another almost immediately. Then another. And – you guessed it – another.
Michael handled the entire meal brilliantly – attentive without becoming performative, remembering details about what we liked and adjusting recommendations accordingly. When we asked for our mains to be delayed slightly, it was done without hesitation.
Dessert arrived in the form of The Salt Room Fish Food Soft Serve: vanilla soft serve rotating on a lazy Susan surrounded by wafer fans, sprinkles, marshmallows, crushed Biscoff, fudge pieces and a trio of sauces. It knew exactly what it was doing – the child in me was bouncing out of her seat – and committed fully to it.
What The Salt Room gets right now is balance. It works as somewhere to stop for oysters and sparkling wine after walking the beach all afternoon, but also as a genuinely serious restaurant with an ambitious kitchen behind it. Brighton has plenty of places trading on their sea view alone, but The Salt Room feels like it has a dining room, menu and atmosphere strong enough to match its location.
Photography courtesy of The Salt Room.
