The Sail Loft in Southwold menu and key info for visitors

Last Updated on July 31, 2026

The Sail Loft in Southwold has been open for a number of years now. It was popular right from day one, partly because it replaced a place called Casa De Mia, which was not the best experience for holidaymakers or locals.

When it first opened, The Sail Loft’s menu seemed very London-based – the sort of food you would see in trendy areas like Hoxton or Shoreditch. Very quickly, the rest of the world caught up.

The Sail Loft still stands out locally, offering some of the best modern street food alongside a wide variety of excellent meals. The specials change regularly and are always very interesting.

You might be looking for the menu, so here is a picture of it on the day I visited most recently, which was Friday 31st July 2026.

I thought it would be more fun to see that menu described in proper Suffolk dialect. Imagine standing next to Charlie Haylock as he talks you through the dishes – that is pretty much what we have here.

Key Visitor Information

• Address: 53 Ferry Road, Southwold, Suffolk, IP18 6HQ (located between the town centre and harbour, right near the dunes)
• Telephone: 01502 725713
• Opening Hours (Summer / Main Season): Monday to Saturday: 9:30 am – 10:00 pm | Sunday: 9:30 am – 5:00 pm (extended into peak summer evenings)
• Opening Hours (Winter Season: Nov – mid-April): Sunday to Wednesday: 9:30 am – 3:30 pm | Thursday to Saturday: 9:30 am – 9:00 pm
• Bookings & Takeaway: Table reservations can be booked online; takeaway orders available by phone from 12:00 pm to 8:00 pm.
• Facilities: Dog-friendly in bar/café areas; family-friendly dining with en-suite guest accommodation available upstairs.

Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

The Sail Loft Menu

Now then, together. Set yew down, an’ hold yew hard a minute, cos I’m a-goorn ter tell yew what’s on the owd board. An’ dew yew listen, cos I ent a-sayin’ it twice.

Starters, an’ yer little owd light bites.

First orf, chef’s soup. Now, that say “soup o’ the moment”, which as far as I can make out mean he dunt know neither. Yew get a bit o’ toasted sourdough bloomer wi’ that, an’ butter. Seven pound ninety five. Sourdough. Tha’s just bread what’s been left a-sittin’ about too long an’ gorn sour, an’ now they charge yew extra for it. Rum owd world.

Then there’s yer tossed smoked chicken ranch salad. Cherry tomatoes, cucumber, avocado, crispy bacon, olives, an’ a gret ol’ heap o’ crunchy leaves. Eight ninety five if yew’re just a bit peckish, fifteen ninety five if yew’re properly hollow. Avocado, bor. Tha’s the one what’s never ready, an’ then all of a sudden that’s gorn orf. Ent no in-between wi’ them.

Crispy fried halloumi salad. Tha’s yer squeaky cheese. Chilli jam, tzatziki, rocket an’ tomato. Nine pound ninety five. Rocket. My owd father’d hev called that a weed an’ put the hoe through it, an’ here we are a-payin’ good money.

An’ a prawn an’ crab bloody mary cocktail, wi’ toasted sourdough an’ salad. Ten pound ninety five. Tha’s yer dinner an’ yer breakfast in the same glass, that is. Wholly good vally, if yew ask me, though nobody dew.

Mains.

Persian slow roast lamb shawarma pitta, wi’ Greek salad, whipped feta an’ fries. Twenty three pound ninety five. Persian, Greek an’ French all a-fightin’ on the one plate. That’ll be suffin’ or another, that will.

Fragrant Thai red chicken curry, wi’ jasmine rice an’ prawn crackers. Nineteen ninety five. Now that ent shy, so dew yew keep the water a-comin’.

Seared tuna fillet, sat atop a pad Thai noodle salad, wi’ prawn crackers. Twenty five pound ninety five. Hold yew hard, I told a lie afore. Tha’s the dearest thing on the board, that is, not the lamb. Mind how yew go.

Sticky Korean barbecue chicken fillet burger, wi’ pickled ginger, cabbage slaw an’ sriracha mayo, an’ fries an’ slaw wi’ that. Nineteen ninety five. Tha’s slaw twice, an’ I ent about ter argue wi’ the man.

Now then. The Kung Fu burger. Crispy Peking duck, cucumber, spring onion an’ hoi sin, all on it shoved in a flaky bun, wi’ salt an’ pepper fries an’ a bit o’ Asian pickle. Twenty two ninety five. Yew’ll want a fair owd pile o’ napkins ter go at that, an’ dew yew wear yer second best shirt.

An’ a Japanese crispy katsu fish fillet burger. Tonkatsu, wasabi mayo, ginger an’ cabbage slaw, fries an’ slaw agin. Nineteen ninety five. Go yew steady on that wasabi, bor. That look like innocent green stuff, an’ then that come up the back o’ yer nose an’ clear out yer head like a dwile through a bucket.

Puddens.

Peach Melba sundae. Mango ice cream, raspberry compote, roast peach an’ candied almonds. Seven ninety five.

Rocky road sundae. Brownie, vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce, meringue an’ cream. Seven ninety five. Tha’s narthin’ but sugar heaped on sugar, an’ I ent got a word ter say agin it.

An’ afore yew ask, cos yew will. Three things are orf today. The potted salmon pate, the Reuben burger, an’ the Mister Whippy ninety nine. All gorn. Dunt yew come a-moanin’ at me, I dunt make the rules, I just stand here an’ read the board.

Tha’s yer lot. Hev a good owd mardle about it, make yer minds up, an’ dunt yew dawdle, do the kitchen’ll be shut an’ yew’ll be hevin’ chips out the van like the rest on ’em.