In the kitchen garden: THE PIG-in the New Forest

Early autumn at THE PIG-in the New Forest feels calm but full: apples hanging heavy on the trees, the last summer crops still thriving in the tunnels, and the first signs of the season beginning to turn. We’re here for the next instalment of our In the Kitchen Garden series, to explore the original PIG hotel and the working garden that quietly sets the pace for everything that happens inside the house. It’s a space that isn’t polished or performative, but lived in - shaped by the seasons, the kitchen, and the people who tend it.

Head Kitchen Gardener, Alex, leads the way down a narrow path beneath a Bramley apple tree, its branches bowed with fruit. This is the orchard’s only cooking apple, and it’s in full production. “We need to get up and do a bit of summer pruning,” he explains, gently lifting a fruiting branch. “The idea is to take the tree’s energy away from vegetative growth and focus it on spur formation, so we get more fruit next year.” It’s the kind of quiet, methodical work that happens at this point in the season - small interventions that shape the year to come.

A few steps further and we arrive at the herb garden, a space that wasn’t always here. Once just a strip of lawn and a path, it now stitches together the walled garden, orchard and polytunnels. “The idea was to create a sense of continuation,” Alex says. “As you walk through the garden, you’re always immersed amongst fruit, veg and herbs. There’s always something happening.” The herb beds are led by the head chef and remain remarkably consistent year-round: perennials like thyme and tarragon quietly fill the air with scent. “The kitchen leads what we grow. There’s no point growing something that doesn’t make it to the plate,” he adds. “Everything here is grown with purpose.”

This idea sits at the heart of THE PIG’s ethos. The kitchen and the garden move together - growing what they can, sourcing what they can’t, and cooking with the seasons. Each plate is shaped by the rhythm of the day: the herbs picked, the fruit gathered, the ingredients that have just landed at the back door. It’s simple, honest food that celebrates its landscape.

  • Greenhouse with plants and a garden view

The polytunnels are heavy with the last of the summer crops. Cucumbers and melons are curling back, aubergines hang in twos and threes, and marigolds - planted as companion plants and pest deterrents - spill into the paths in golden rivers. “I didn’t realise how big they’d get,” Alex laughs, stepping carefully between stems. “It looks beautiful, but it’s not the most practical.” The watermelon vines have ripened on their own, the fruit coming away cleanly when ready, while the cucumber variety Femspot has produced its best harvest yet. “The largest one weighed 1.2 kilos,” he grins. “An absolute beast.” But already the tunnel is shifting into its next phase. By next week, the vines will be cleared, the beds refreshed, and chard will take their place for the winter months. This sense of constant transition defines this kitchen garden: nothing stands still for long.

As we walk back towards the greenhouse, Alex reflects on the way the garden is experienced as much as it is eaten. “You’re not just walking past beds of lettuce,” he says. “You’re wandering through spaces that are alive, changing every week.”

If you’d like to see this working kitchen garden for yourself, we thoroughly recommend planning a visit to THE PIG-in the New Forest. You can make a booking and find all the details on how to get there via their website. Keep an eye out for our Victorian Square Cloches in the garden, tucked amongst the beds.