Eateries are not generally about nourishment, but rather about settings. I recall suppers overlooked the nourishment appreciated in a garden hung with pixie lights close Avignon in Provence and under a colossal canvas shade encompassed by olive trees in Greece.
Nourishment tastes better outside and, in great climate, it feels relatively unnatural to eat indoors. The best encounters are of eating great sustenance in or close to the garden where it's developed. This doesn't need to mean an enormous French-style portage.
In Montreal I ate extraordinary compared to other suppers of my life at an eatery called Joe Beef. Their city plant alongside the eatery and lit up during the evening by the lights of the close-by baseball pitch doesn't supply all that they require yet the tomato and basil serving of mixed greens that it created was superior to anything any I have had in Italy (maybe it's in light of the fact that the culinary expert had just barely picked the fixings, or that we could stroll round the tomato plants before supper).
At Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons in Oxfordshire you don't eat in the garden however a walk around it interfaces you to the vegetables and herbs you'll soon find on your plate. Raymond Blanc's plant there, began once again thirty years prior, now has 90 distinct herbs and more than 250 sorts of vegetable (also the plantation planted to protect British assortments of apples and pears), and it has enlivened gourmet specialists and restaurateurs everywhere)