Earth and Stars

Roast dinner: £10.95
Avg drinks prices: Draught cider £3.90; orange juice £1.95

The Earth and Stars always caught my eye because of the awesome notice boards on the walls outside. Cutesy anecdotes from the point of view of the bored board itself, they're small things that always made me chuckle. It's obviously advertising that works (on some) as when I was at a loose end one Sunday, I decided I was going to give it a go.

It's not the cheapest of pubs - it certainly pays for its excellent location (the pub is on a corner just off Queen's Road; close to the station and The North Laine). The beers are slightly pricier than average and the food is priced to reflect the central area.  However, on entering I found it to be choc-full of people who evidently appreciate what it has to offer.  All types of people, too - couples; groups of young adults; older people - they're all here.  I think it has something to do with the staff - patient, friendly, unassuming - and the general atmosphere of the place.  In the winter, it has a cosy feel to it as it's quite small, but in the spring and summer months the place is bright and airy.  The artwork on the walls is unique and the decor isn't too flashy.  There's plenty to read adorning the walls and even the chalkboards have an attitude.

The choice is quite limited - the standard beef, chicken or lamb - with a veggie option I didn't catch (sorry).  Just the one veggie option, though, which I thought was a bit mean, but hey - it's a small place.  I opted for beef, my friend Chris for the chicken.  There's a myth that The Earth and Stars is an organic pub, but that's not been the case for a while.  I was disappointed, as I love organic beef, plus for nigh on £11 I expected something special.  However, it was still local and you can't argue with that.  There were some absolutely awesome aromas coming from the kitchen - I was quite excited from the off, despite the meal and drink costing me a whopping £16.  I watched as plate after plate came out of the kitchen piled high with goodies, and when mine came (after only a fifteen minue wait), I wasn't disappointed.  

It was a mountain.  An actual food mountain.  Yes, it costs £11, but you get a lot for that money.  Potatoes nudged for space alongside carrots, cabbage, parsnips and swede; gravy threatened to spill off the edge at the slightest nudge of the table.  The yorkie sat tentatively on top, as if it knew it was about to fall.  The beef was completely hidden at the base of the plate.  However, I found this appealing - it was like an adventure to find the prize amongst the melee.

The spuds were lovely - a little dry, perhaps, but the ample amount of gravy made up for that, and at least you get more than two.  The parsnips were proper parsnips (no parsnip crisps here - hurrah!), roasted to perfection - burned at the edges and soft in the centre. However, they juxtaposed the carrots, which in turn were actually quite boring and would have benefited from a little more seasoning.  The cabbage was slightly salty and could have done with a sprinkle of cinnamon, or apple - the gravy provides enough salt in itself and I didn't need any more.  After a while I found it to be too thirst-inducing to eat and so after a couple of mouthfuls I left it.  But the beef.

Oh, the beef.

Great big wads of roughly-carved, pink-in-the-centre beef.

It melted on the tongue, even if it was slightly fatty.  Crisp at the edges and smooth in the centre, it complemented the rest of the food perfectly, especially the homemade yorkie (which itself was not at all small - more monstrous!).  The chicken, however, was not so good.  Chris looked insanely jealous of my beef, and in a turnaround from my experience at The Farm Tavern, it seemed I had chosen the best roast on offer.  He summed it up in one sentence thus: "this chicken is all about the skin. The meat - not so good."  He proclaimed it to be rather dry - like the potatoes - and that he was lucky they didn't scrimp on the gravy.  A real sad twist to the story, because had the chicken been good, this place would have definitely scored higher.

In the end, I was beaten by the mountain - it was far too huge for me to finish.  Definitely one for the big eaters.  I was disappointed - I have a frugal mind and I'm all about eating what you've paid for - especially when it costs as pretty a penny as this one did.  I just couldn't, though, so I pushed my plate away and tried not to think of starving children in Africa.  I can't help but recommend this one idea - maybe next time, charge a little less and put a little less on the plate.

6/10

46 Windsor Street, Brighton BN1 1RJ
Tel: 01273 722879
Credit/debit cards accepted (over £10)
Booking recommended
http://www.drinkinbrighton.co.uk/earth-and-stars

The Farm Tavern

Roast dinner: £7.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle cider £3.85; pint lager £3.70; orange juice £1.75

The Farm Tavern is a small, minds-its-own-business establishment set back from busy Western Road on the tiny Farm Road just by Palmeira Square.  In competition with the yet-to-be-rated Cooper's Cask, we opted for The Farm simply because there were 11 of us and we were able to book.  Granted, I've heard amazing things about Cooper's but it wasn't a risk any of us were ready to take when we knew we were going to be so very hungry.

When we arrived, we were greeted by the smiliest and friendliest barman I think I've ever had the pleasure of conversing with.  An older and evidently more chilled-out guy, he was happy to sit and chat with us before we went upstairs to our table.  We ordered some drinks, caught a glance at the newspapers and then headed up to wait for the others.  This is a bar that truly loves its hippie clientele - I saw more piercings, dreadlocks and amateur tattoos in this place than I saw the entire afternoon afterwards - so if you're not a fan of that brigade, this place might not be for you.  There are also lots of children, so if you're the sweary type, it's best to keep away on a Sunday avo.

As I said, The Farm is a small pub, but they've made good use of the available space.  The stairs are not the greatest idea if you've got elderly relatives or a pram to carry, but for us the only obstacle they posed would have been evident only after alcohol had been consumed.  Once you make it upstairs, you're greeted by a bright, airy room that's neither too overcrowded nor too sparse.  On the wall is a huge chalk menu regaling you with the various roast choices - and boy, are there choices.  One of The Farm's strongest points is that it caters for vegetarians, and it does so well.  Alternating between veggie and vegan options, meat-haters actually get a choice of decadent dishes ranging from pie to casserole, all served with their own veggie gravy and with all the trimmings as standard.  No lazy nut roasts in this joint.  However, being the carnivore I am I opted for the Old Faithful (aka the beef), whilst Dan went for his usual of pork belly.  Others went for the chicken and we did indeed have a few take up the veggie options.  We really did not know what to expect - after all, these are roasts that cost less than £8.00, which, let's be fair, is something of a rarity in Brighton (with the obvious exception of Wetherspoons).  I honestly believed we'd be dished up an average roast with average veg - maybe a presence of boiled carrots and peas - but no.  What we got was very different indeed.

The potatoes were by far the most striking part of this roast.  Huge, crispy and light as a cloud in the centre, they melted off the fork - and we got a substantial amount of them, too.  The Farm don't scrimp on the good stuff, that's for sure.  My good friend Ray believes that potatoes can make or break a roast, and yes, they were what lost The Connaught points in my last post - but if that's your measure of greatness, then these are something special.  However, one cannot dwell on one part of the plate, so as for the rest...

The usual veg was present - carrots, broccoli, cabbage and parsnips. However, the carrots weren't lazily boiled as I'd assumed they would be; they were roasted to perfection and served in moreish bite-sized chunks.  The broccoli was al dente and a vivid green; there was no hint of soggy school dinners as is the problem suffered by some.  The cabbage was spicy and tangy with a nice crunch, too.  However, if there is one think I am coming to despise in the roasting world it is the parsnip crisp.  I mean, come on - they are by far the laziest of garnishes.  I love my parsnips, especially roasted with honey, and to get them sprinkled nonchalantly on top of my food - with gravy, which only serves to send them into a state of soggy oblivion - is just cruelty.  I wanted substance, and I got something totally different.  Please guys, just stop.  There was also a creamy concoction of unidentifiable appearance which despite our apprehension was sweet and delicious and set off the carrots perfectly.  Which leads me to the gravy.

Thank the sweet lord!  We finally have on our hands an establishment that knows what a decent portion of gravy looks like.  The plate wasn't swimming, nor was it bare - there was just the right amount.  It was also perfectly executed - not too thick, not too runny and a slight tang of red wine running through it without being overbearing.  It was delicious.  My veggie friends stated that their equivalent did not suffer from lack of meat juices and fats - apparently theirs was fragrant, herby and very nice indeed.

Which leads me to the biggest part of the meal - the meat.  I hate to say it, but I felt let down by my beef.  Considering the rest of the plate was so perfectly and artistically put together, the beef was fatty, overcooked and a little limp and soggy - as if it had been sat out a while after being carved. A huge shame, as it really is such an important part - although I may just be spoiled after my wonderful experience at The Connaught.  The others were more complimentary, though - according to Dan, the pork belly was 'truly awesome' - a thick, bubbly layer of crackling sat atop a pink, juicy slab of meat - no Foragers-style farty child-size portions here - it did look divine, and part of me was insanely jealous of them.  I was kicking myself that I'd played it safe.  The veggie options were also met with approval, with various party members claiming them to be 'light', 'not at all stodgy' and 'full of flavour'.  The chicken also looked excellent - again, a huge portion sat atop the vegetables, resplendent in a coat of herbs and spices, one of which I assumed must have been saffron, from the appearance and distinct smell.  Not bad for £7.95.

All meals come with a yorkie - the veggies get their own, meat-free version - and these are pretty standard.  Average-sized, there is a distinct packaged-food quality to them - if they are home-made, they certainly don't taste it. However, they soaked up the gravy well and added some stodge to the dish - as the veggies were so well-cooked, there wasn't a lot of heaviness in the roast at all.

I found it hard to rate The Farm.  Whilst in my mind the disappointing beef and yorkie led me to a certain 6, the others, with their excellent selection of meats and veggie concoctions were sure it should be an 8.  We decided to compromise, on the sole basis of the whole thing costing £7.95. Come on - that's outstanding.

7/10


13 Farm Road, Hove BN3 1FB
Tel: 01273 325902
Credit/debit cards accepted
Bookings taken and recommended for larger parties
www.farmtavern.designextreme.com

The Connaught

Roast Dinner: £10.95-£12.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle cider £4.25; orange juice £2.60; pint lager £3.95

I've eaten quite a few times at The Connaught since moving to Hove.  Ever since we happened upon it one sunny August evening, it's been our go-to for family visits, stops during walks and when we've simply just been bored.  With its open fire sending out a warm glow into the bar area, and its quirky half-bar, half-bistro layout backdropped by art prints of Johnny Rotten, it's a great place to spend an afternoon without running the risk of being invaded by football fans, students or lushes.  Having stood by their Gloucester Old Spot sausages and mash with red wine gravy for the best part of six months, and having seen the quality of their pies, salads and sandwiches, I was ver excited to see that my friends were prepared to grace our end of town with their presence for a sampling of the Sunday Roast. 

Don't get me wrong, the place does have its flaws.  For all its character, one can visit The Dyke Road Tavern (recently refurbed bythe same owners) not five miles away and find the exact same ideas made real - as one friend commented, 'it's like they've read a brochure about how to make the ideal gastropub."  He's right, too; it does tick the boxes - no tablecloths, cutlery in a tankard, slightly gauche art and an open fire with no shortage of wood.  However, in The Connaught it just seems to work.  It doesn't feel pretentious, or over-stylised - even the 'supposed-to-look-hand-written-but-really-just-printed' boards evoke a slight classiness that other gastropubs fail to achieve. 

We took our seats in the bar area, as (as so commonly happens to us) we had got up late and missed the window for bookings in the bistro/restaurant.  This didn't matter - the only difference is that on this side, you order by going to the bar - no biggie, considering the bar was three steps away.   They were happy to open a tab, and whilst being friendly, the staff are professional and not-at-all overfamiliar, which means you get your drinks and your orders, but also the feeling you're not just a cow being marched through a cattleshed.  I went for the roast beef after seeing magnificence arrive at the table next to us; my friend Dan plumped for pork belly.  Everyone else followed suit.

As we settled in to our seats, we conversed about the atmosphere of the place.  It can't be ignored - The Connaught is a middle-class paradise.  Whilst we were there, it was relatively quiet, but as the afternoon wore on, more and more families arrived, children in tow - one taking the seat next to us - along with countless young rah-girls and their suitors.  It's safe to say, if you're in any way insulted by money, loud voices or flash cars you won't love it here.  I took umbridge with the man on the next table who insisted I move my empty cider bottle off of 'MY TABLE - it does not belong there!'  This general lack of politeness is prevalent in a lot of the Sunday clientele - maybe they'd all just had a rough night on the Midori, but I didn't appreciate the general 'get off my turf!' vibe that gradually filled the air as time went on.  The children are also allowed to scream.  Loudly.  However, if you head there early, you'll instead be surrounded by quiet groups of friends or couples, which is far more lovely and easier to handle.

Anyway.  The food. 

When my beef arrived, I was taken aback by the sheer pile of it on my plate - juicy, pink slices, crisp at the edges, at least a centimetre thick with barely any fat.  The pork belly was also a winner - a fat slab of salted, crispy fat atop a plump, pink layer of succulent meat.  The gravy was plentiful, but not overwhelming, with a rich aroma of thyme and the vegetables - well.  The vegetables.  The great thing about this place is they're evidently not afraid to experiment.  You name it, we had it - two types of squash, celeriac, carrots, parsnips, potatoes, curly kale - piled high and all boasting rich, powerful flavours.  The squash was nicely crisp and well seasoned; the kale was not at all soggy and coated in the most wonderful, spicy mustard dressing.  The carrots were honeyed and the celeriac al dente.  We even had beetroot (though some protested to that).  It was as if the chef had decided on a whim to chuck everything in the pan with the meats and sprinkle each different flavour atop them before bunging them in the oven - evenly roasted and golden, it looked fantastic. 

The beef was wonderful - it warns you on The Connaught's menu that all of their meat is cooked medium-rare, and that was exactly what we got.  Sourced locally, from a farm down the road, it melted in the mouth, having been seasoned perfectly.  Usually I leave a little fat on my plate, but this time there was nothing to leave - the whole three (three!) slabs were fat-free and juicy and had I been able to, I'd have easily eaten more.  This cow had led a great, great life.  Dan's assessment of the pork belly was similarly glowing - the crackling was, apparently, 'just crisp enough' - not too chewy and fatty, but not too brittle either.  The meat was juicy and not at all tough - it seemed that The Connaught part steam, part roast their pork bellies, which in my eyes is the only way to do it. 

However, the potatoes, though crisp and done on the outside, were a little tough in the middle.  Not raw, but lacking that fluffiness that really makes a good roastie.  The yorkie was huge and evidently home-made, but was far too crisp for my liking - to me, a good yorkie is soggy below and crisp atop, but this was just a ball of air.  It didn't really add anything to the meal and felt rather dry next to all the other, succulent foodstuffs.  Some of the party couldn't get on board with the idea of squash, either, complaining that there were just too many vegetables to choose from.  I suppose it depends what you're after - personally, I relish the variety but if you're more of a traditionalist, then the wide range of veg may just tip you over the edge.

We left dessert, mainly because the roast had rendered us stuffed, but I can definitely recommend the Guinness brownie if you're ever in a pickle.  Divine.

Altogether, this is definitely a foodie's idea of a good roast dinner - experimental, ambitious and packed with flavour.   If you can stomach the sometimes questionable clientele, head for a late afternoon lunch, but if you're the quiet sort, head for early afternoon and you're in for a winner.

8/10

48 Hove St, Hove BN3 2DH
Tel: 01273 206578
Credit/debit cards accepted
Bookings taken for bistro/restaurant; ring early on the day
http://www.connaughtpub.co.uk/

The Victory Inn

Roast Dinner: £9.95-£11.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle cider £4.05; pint lager £3.90; soft drink £2.30

The Victory is one of my favourite pubs in Brighton. With its open fire, welcoming atmosphere and distinctly 'old man' feel, it retains a lot of character that many bars *coughNewWetherspoonscough* lack nowadays.  With a friendly staff, limited floor space, funny old layout and varied, charity-shop decor, one gets a sense of coming home when they walk through the doors.  It's always warm, there's always someone to chat to and even though it's in the centre of Brighton, it's rarely frequented by idiots - though maybe that has something to do with Shrek, the formidable doorman who can be found there every weekend without fail. Serving real ales, a large selection of wonderful-but-expensive ciders and hosting an annual cheese-and-cider festival, the place attracts a specific but comfortable clientele.  One gets the sense that they could grab a space on the sofa and stay there all afternoon - a great little Winter retreat, though they do have a small terrace out back for the smokers and sun worshippers amongst you.

Recently, The Victory has earned it's Five-Star Score on The Door, which means that it kicks ass when it comes to cleanliness in the kitchens and throughout the bar.  This meant I just had to sample the food.  I started by checking out their chicken burger earlier this year and wasn't disappointed - no processed sh*te in this place; just succulent, perfectly-spiced breast atop a herby ciabatta with glorious wedges of potato.  It was an excellent start, and a good indicator of what was to come when roast time came round.

Here, it's good old-fashioned order at the bar - though the waiting staff are happy to help if needed.

When we finally decided to make our way down there one sunny afternoon, we were delighted to see that they were serving an adventurous menu including ostrich and zebra.  The chef was obviously feeling confident and I always appreciate a deviation from the norm.  However, this doesn't mean I'm always brave, and eventually the lemon and herb chicken tempted me away from the more frivolous options - I mean, come on - who can resist half a chicken?!  I let my good friend Ray sample the ostrich for me and my partner settled for the lamb.  Oddly enough, The Victory also provides veggies with the option of fish pie, which to my veggie friends is a welcome change from nut roasts and mushrooms.  Inspired choice, chef.  All roasts come with 'all the trimmings', and the trimmings sounded phenomenal - creamed parsnips with black pepper, roast potatoes, cabbage, honey roast carrot and the all-important Yorkie.  We were expecting great things to arrive not long after.

When the food arrived we were not disappointed - the wait was adequate to know that the chef hadn't shoved anything into the microwave but not so long that we became bored or, in my case, rage-filled due to hunger.  The food looked succulent, crisp and fresh with a thick, dark gravy filled with herbs.  The Yorkie sat atop, nothing especially huge but still resplendent and soft, keeping slightly crispy edges.  My chicken was crusted with herbs, crisp skin splitting to reveal moist flesh below.  It was an entire half, too - leg and all.  It tasted awesome.  Slightly lemony but not overpowering, with a distinct tast of thyme, it melted off the bone and worked well with the peppery creamed parsnip, which was unusual, but awesome.  The skin was something else - I rarely eat chicken skin but, like The Bath Arms, this was lovely - subtly salted and giving off lovely flavours.

Ray's ostrich - well, I find it hard to comment as I've never really looked at ostrich before.  I have to say, it looked like beef, though a little purple at the edges.  According to Ray, it was 'okay, but a little dry - though I'm not sure that's the chef's fault.'  It did look a little less appetising than the others, mainly due to it being cut like the pre-packed roast beef you get in W**herspoons, but again, I'm not sure that's the chef's fault.

Dan's lamb was crusted with garlic and rosemary, and it was slightly pink, crisp at the edges and thickly cut.  He remarked 'ooh, that's good', whilst devouring a mouthful; praise indeed from such a man.  I did sample a portion and it was lovely - not fatty at all, not chewy - just soft, herby and delicious.

However.  This was not the perfect roast.  And when the letdown came, boy, was it a big one.

The potatoes looked well-done; from the outside they were crisp, slightly charred and waxy.  I was really looking forward to eating them.  However, when I cut into them, they were dry and powdery and needed the assistance of the remaining gravy to help allay the arrid texture.  With the meat, they were ok, but nothing more than just that - ok.  I was expecting phenomenal, and I felt truly let down. After all, spuds are, following the meat and Yorkie, the most important part of the plate - no?

On the whole, though, the portion was a good size and you do get your money's worth at this place.  They don't scrimp on veg - I had a good five carrots on my plate and a hearty lump of cinnamon-spiced cabbage - and they don't drizzle the gravy on, like some pubs do.  You have to hand it to them, they're not stingy.

I do feel that I have to remove some marks from this place for the prices of beverages, though.  Over £4.00 for a bottle of cider might be the shape of things to come in Brighton, but I really do resent it.  It's one of the most expensive 'old man' venues in the city and you do pay for the atmosphere.  A night out post-roast could end up costing a packet.  However, if it's what keeps the idiot army out, then I suppose I should be all for it.

7/10

6 Duke Street, Brighton BN1 1AH
Tel: 01273 326555
Credit/debit cards accepted
Limited seating; get there early