Tucked into a modest plot a meadow away from the swollen Thames at Richmond, Petersham exudes the pretty politeness of the best-bred Brit; the Rosamund Pike of nurseries, if you like
Crunching around the travelled pathways reveals a limited but well-tended range of favourites. Visited on a misty November Sunday roses – with proper caned supports – took centre stage, along with atmospheric groupings of glass droplets, box balls, ivy wreaths and heathers which gave me an involuntary ‘almost Christmas’ squeeze of excitement.
Containers elevate the well-known into charming focal points and Petersham does containers well; rusted, weathered and solid, they murmur quality and whisper ‘pricey’. No pastiche plastic here, terracotta is as plain as it gets. Iron furniture ups the chic, though I’m sure they’re better to admire than to sit in
So this is not a nursery to hunt for that elusive climber or grab a bag of manure. To be honest, the real draw of the place is the restaurant.
Noted chef Skye Gyngell delivers super-seasonal modern dishes in its vintage-y, earthen-floored conservatory. Open only four lunchtimes a week and serving such winners as grilled red mullet with bruschetta, rocket, black olive dressing & creme fraiche, it was heaving, leaving me merely admiring the buzzing scene through the tree ferns in the adjoining interiors shop. Book ahead. And ask if Rosamund Pike’s free.