Turtle Bay Bath — Restaurant in Bath

If you're searching for a bottomless brunch that delivers not just on drinks but also on atmosphere and service, look no further than Turtle Bay in Bath. From the moment you step through the doors, you're greeted with a vibrant, lively ambiance that sets the perfect tone for a weekend indulgence.

The real star of the show, however, is the service. Our server, Ella, was nothing short of exceptional. Friendly, attentive, and genuinely enthusiastic, she ensures that your glass is never empty and that you're having the best time possible.

Speaking of indulgence, the bottomless brunch at Turtle Bay truly lives up to its name. With an extensive selection of cocktails, mocktails, and other beverages, there's something to please every palate. The drinks are expertly crafted, with a perfect balance of flavours that complement the lively Caribbean-inspired setting.

Now, let’s talk about the highlight of the brunch – the chicken burger. This is no ordinary burger; it’s a culinary delight that perfectly captures the essence of Turtle Bay's vibrant flavours. The chicken burger is a juicy, flavourful masterpiece, cooked to perfection and topped with the freshest ingredients. Each bite is a delightful explosion of taste, making it an unforgettable part of the brunch experience.

Whether you're celebrating a special occasion or simply looking to enjoy a leisurely brunch with friends, Turtle Bay in Bath is the place to be. The combination of excellent service, an upbeat atmosphere, and the unforgettable chicken burger makes it a top choice for bottomless brunch aficionados. Don’t miss out on this gem in the heart of Bath – it's an experience you’ll be talking about long...

My wife is Jamaican and cooks amazing dishes and thus I am spoiled with stellar Caribbean food. We attended Turtle Bay for the first time after living in UK 7 months. We have been quite disappointed in every Jamaican or Caribbean restaurant we have eaten (maybe 5 others throughout the southern UK) where the food is not fresh (seemingly warmed up in a microwave), the food is lacking in flavor (skimped mix of spices), the food is lacking in spicy-ness (setup for British people who do not want heat-spicy), and the portions are stunningly small for the price. This was not so at Turtle Bay Bath. My wife and I were speaking before we ordered and were both noting we were going to be disappointed in the food. The food arrived relatively quickly and the presentation was lovely. My wife ordered the curry goat which had copious chunks of goat with a lovely heat-spice gravy where the morsels were flavorful throughout. I had the beef cheek (similar to ox tail) where my meal was similarly spiced flavorful throughout with a copious amount of meat morsels. The rice and peas was also done well. My wife had plantains as well which rounded out a sweeter section of her dish. Portions were just right. We we so very surprised and grateful with not being disappointed by anything. We will remember Turtle Bay and return when we are in...

Today I was poisoned. By this restaurant. By a drink. Described as “homemade” ginger beer. Homemade. Like grandma used to brew, right? WRONG. Did I expect ginger, sugar, maybe a squeeze of lemon? Yes. Did I expect ASPARTAME — that lab-born chemical imposter that hijacks your taste buds and leaves your brain feeling like it’s been slapped with a spreadsheet? NO. There I was, sipping blissfully, until my body screamed, “OH HELLO, it’s that molecule again!” Cue the nausea. The brain fog. The rage. All because someone thought, “Hey, let’s call it homemade… and just slip in a neurotoxic little surprise.” Did they disclose it? Nope. Did I consent to ingest a synthetic sweetener banned in several countries and loathed by millions? ABSOLUTELY NOT. So yes, I felt violated. Not in the metaphorical sense — in the literal, bodily sense. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This was culinary gaslighting. How is this legal? How is “homemade” allowed to mean “lab-enhanced chemical slurry”? If I wanted aspartame, I’d chew gum in 1997. Enough is enough. Restaurants: If you’re going to spike your drinks with industrial-grade fake sweetness, TELL PEOPLE. And maybe — wild idea — don’t call it “homemade” unless it actually contains ingredients people have in homes and not just in warehouses. I didn’t order poison. I ordered...