Slates: Fine Dining with Flair 

Perched above Willoughby Bay, just a breezy ten-minute drive from English Harbour, Slates has become an established favourite, combining seriously accomplished cooking with glorious views, an easy Caribbean atmosphere and the warmest of welcomes from Bex and Colin.

Michelin-starred chef Colin McGurran brought an impressive pedigree with him to Antigua, but Slates has never felt like a chef simply transplanting a British fine-dining restaurant to the Caribbean. Over time, it has developed its own rhythm — polished without being precious, inventive without trying too hard, and relaxed enough that you can settle in and enjoy yourself.

McGurran’s culinary journey has always been driven by an obsession with ingredients. In Lincolnshire, he transformed his restaurant into a largely self-sustaining operation, growing vegetables and rearing livestock himself. His cooking won national attention, including appearances on Great British Menu, Saturday Kitchen and Ramsay’s Best Restaurant, along with dishes such as his award-winning Quail in the Woods and Dickin Medal dessert.

That technical pedigree is still evident at Slates, but so is a considerable sense of fun.

McGurran cooks with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker and the audacity of a jazz musician. His flavours do not merely sit politely beside one another; they conspire. There is often something unexpected on the plate — a texture, spice or combination that sounds slightly improbable until you taste it and wonder why nobody thought of it before.

On an earlier visit, our table put that theory thoroughly to the test. Lobster ravioli with leek, lemongrass and dill produced a moment of almost reverential silence before being pronounced “a triumph”. A beetroot and watermelon salad was given crunch and sweetness with candied walnut, while an onion and goat’s cheese tart came with what one diner immediately christened a “sexy Waldorf” — fennel and oriental flavours taking a familiar idea somewhere altogether more interesting.

Desserts were equally difficult to resist. A deeply intense chocolate delice and an impeccably executed sticky toffee pudding proved that making room is sometimes simply a matter of determination.

The more casual side of Slates remains just as carefully considered. Bar food here has never meant lowering the culinary ambitions. Bao buns with hoisin pork belly and pulled-pork croquettes fried in their own crackling are exactly the sort of things that make the phrase “just a quick bite” rather optimistic.

And then there is Sunday.

Slates’ Sunday lunch has become something of an institution in its own right: a proper roast with all the trimmings, served overlooking the Caribbean. This is not a token slice of meat beside a few apologetic vegetables. It is the full, comforting Sunday ritual — beautifully cooked, generously served and given the same attention to detail as the rest of the menu. Add the relaxed afternoon atmosphere, the view and live music, and there are considerably worse ways to spend a Sunday in Antigua.

Perhaps that is the real measure of Slates now. The excitement of discovering somewhere new has been replaced by something rather more valuable: knowing that it is going to be good.

The cooking remains clever, confident and occasionally mischievous. The welcome remains warm. The setting remains beautiful. Slates has simply stopped being Antigua’s promising newcomer and become part of the island’s dining landscape — which, one suspects, was always the plan.