As much as I’d like to think I’m not susceptible to influencers, it’s patently untrue. A case in point: all it took was one episode of Channel 4’s Best Of Britain By The Sea – part glossy post-COVID advertorial for the ailing British tourist industry, part cosy comedy vehicle for the Ainsley Harriott/Grace Dent double act – and a few lingering close-ups of the dishes at Laugharne restaurant Dexters At Brown’s and we were straight on the blower to book a table. And, as it turns out, we weren’t the only ones. Business has been booming thanks to the restaurant’s cameo appearance on the show. But just how good is it in 3D reality?

Initially, in the bar area, there are disappointments: a bang-average draught beer selection (Shipyard or Estrella?); none of the syrup required for an espresso martini; a raspberry and smoke cocktail served without the advertised sprig of rosemary. And once seated, we’re presented with the Sunday menu in error (it’s a Monday); subjected to torturously overwrought, breathy acoustic covers of Cher and 4 Non Blondes; and asked about dessert having only just finished our starters. But – and it’s a ‘but’ so big that Sir Mix-a-Lot would swoon – the food is such that all is instantly forgiven.

My dinner date kicks off with a signature soufflé – fluffy and light but immodestly cheesy – while I start as I mean to go on, by sampling some of the restaurant’s most tender beef, from their own herd of Dexter cattle raised at Llwyn Farm in Llangain. When a dish comes with a meat garnish – chorizo and cubes of black pudding – you know you’ve hit the jackpot. (Veggies might beg to differ, of course – but then, to be honest, Dexters isn’t really the place for them.)

The dark, sticky glaze on my slab of sirloin is so good that no additional condiments are strictly necessary – but then it would have been a travesty to pass up the opportunity to taste God’s own gravy: an immaculately smooth peppercorn and brandy sauce whose even heat sets the lips a-tingling. Many a chunky thrice-cooked chip is duly baptised. Across the table sits an even better steak: a sliced flatiron cooked rare on the chef’s insistence – quite rightly, too. It seems almost criminal to sully it with béarnaise sauce, even one as well made as this. From frames on the wood-panelled walls, cows stare down in silent judgement. We can only mumble our apologies in between forkfuls, thanking them and their brethren for laying down their lives in service.

The beauty of Dexters’ location – inside Dylan Thomas’ favourite Laugharne haunt, Brown’s Hotel – is that not only can you disguise a trip motivated by pure gluttony as a cultural excursion, part of a pilgrimage in honour of the poet, you can also book a room and therefore literally crawl upstairs to bed once finally sated. Which, in turn, means you get to try their breakfast (excellent) and then do it all over again the following evening.

Ding ding! Round 2 of Couple v Prime Aged Beef begins with a sesame-sprinkled hunk of short rib and three king prawns in a satay sauce that packs the sort of sly, subtle kick you might associate with an old-school Italian central defender.

My companion finds herself powerless to resist the flatiron for a second night running, but I plump for the ox cheek special, perched on an outcrop of mash in a sea of lusciously thick wine gravy. Presumably, there’s no need to actually cook the accompanying spinach as it just wilts instinctively in the presence of such greatness.

For dessert, I try the apple tart – croissant pastry, light toffee sauce – on the recommendation of a fellow guest whose predilections have led his friends to nickname him Mr Apple Tart and who claims that in years of sampling this is the finest specimen he’s ever encountered. Let’s just say I don’t doubt that for an instant. The strawberry panna cotta with shortbread is also a winner, even if the decorative flakes of honeycomb have a tendency to adhere to the teeth like particularly tenacious limpets.

To our right, a couple from Cardiff are claiming that Dexters blows the capital’s Pasture and Asador 44 out of the water. While I’m not sure I’d go quite that far, I’d certainly go as far as Laugharne for a meal – or two – as good as this again. And if it ends in gout, it’s what Dylan Thomas would have wanted. (A postscript of sorts: shortly after I visited, in September, the kitchen was damaged by a fire which reduced the available menu for a couple of months; happily, it’s since returned in full.)

Dexters, Brown’s Hotel, King Street, Laugharne. Info: here

words BEN WOOLHEAD photos ALED LLYWELYN