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 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

The Ginger Pig

Roast Dinner: £10.00 (Fried sage polenta dish) to £16.00 (Scotch beef)
Avg drinks prices: Bottle house wine £16.00; draught lager £4.05; soft drinks £2.90
Desserts: £5.00 - £7.00

I'd been looking forward to this.  The Gingerman restaurants and public houses are a Sussex institution, and when we moved into a flat that was just over the road from The Ginger Pig, we'd made a vow to visit as soon as possible.  However, warm weather just didn't lend itself well to a roast and so we had no choice but to wait it out, until the temperature dropped and it was no longer time for a barbeque.  I mean, this is an expensive place - we weren't willing to part with our hard-earned until the timing was exactly right.

That time came with the arrival of the in-laws - they were looking for somewhere lovely to eat, and we knew just the right place.  We made our booking and headed there at 1pm - it's wise to get in there early, as it's a popular place and if you don't, you run the risk of choosing from a very limited menu. 

We spent fifteen minutes at the bar before sitting down, which was no big deal - they have an amazing selection of drinks, including organic soft drinks of such adventurous flavours as orange, ginger and elderflower or mango and lime.  Not your average coke on tap, then.  The selection of ales was varied and unique; none of your same-old, same-old here.  The bar staff were attentive and polite and actually took the time to talk to us, and even when we overstayed our welcome (our table was ready and they have an extremely quick turnaround due to the popularity of the place), they did not push us to sit. 

When we got to our table, I was immediately preoccupied with the feel of the place - it's a little like a canteen.  If you like your roasts in a quiet, relaxed setting, this is not the place for you.  The wooden floors and high ceilings provide ample opportunity for the sounds of chatter, cutlery and the clinking of glasses to carry in the air.  However, I liked it - it reminded me of a French cafe, or an Italian trattoria.  OK, so we needed to raise our voices at times, but rather that than complete silence, yes?  Well, I'm biased, I suppose.

I chose to go for the traditional beef dinner, my partner the loin of pork and the in-laws the fish and the beef.  The interesting thing about the Ginger Pig's menu is the disclaimer at the bottom that states that as all meat comes from a local farm, some game dishes 'may contain shot'.  You can't say fresher than that.  Hey, at least you know it's organic and local, even if you do end up with lead in your teeth.  The waitress was patient and attentive and not at all pushy or rude, even when we couldn't decide what to have (honestly, we're the worst customers ever).  She was on hand to offer advice and even make the choice for me when I was truly stumped as to whether to go for the lamb or beef - in my eyes, a good waiter or waitress will always push you towards their favourite, and enthusiastically so, with the ability to comment on flavour, texture and the history of the meat.  She knew it all.

I was expecting brilliance, beauty and an explosion of flavour - the menu, being a typical Gingerman menu, promised original pairings of unusual tastes; a description consisting of extremely middle-class sounding words and farmer-speak that the average Joe would have trouble deciphering.  That's one of my problems with this place - a roast is surely just meat and two veg, at the end of the day, and calling a gravy a jus does not detract from the fact that it is simply a gravy.  The same gravy you'd get anywhere else - meat juice, stock, a bit of wine - why dress it up?  I like the word gravy.  It's warm, and reminds me of childhood Sundays. I bet 90% of the population would say the same.

When my food came, I was slightly disappointed.  The first thing to stand out to me was the sheer amount of meat - this was not a bad thing.  My beef was pink and bloody in the centre and crisp on the outside, served in whopping great slabs at least an inch thick.  The pork loin was juicy and salted and the fish was whole, crisp and stuffed with herbs.  However, the veg was a different story.  I know I said a roast is just a simple meat and two veg, but these guys take that phrase a little too seriously, as that was exactly what I was served - roast potatoes, carrots and green beans (OK, that's three, but I rarely count potatoes as true veg - how can something so full of carbs ever be good for you?).  The carrots and beans were boiled - there was no sense of adventure, no explosion of flavour, no assault on the senses - it was almost as if they'd put so much effort into the meat, they'd forgotten the importance of the veg in the whole thing.  I mean, to me, vegetables are the backbone of the roast - in my time eating roast dinners, I've encountered honeyed carrots, roast parsnips, cider and cinnamon cabbage, braised leeks, roasted butternut squash - a good chef can make a simple green bean seem like nothing else.  It was what I'd expected of the Ginger Pig - a riot in my mouth; especially as I was paying £16.00 for the privilege - but it just didn't happen.  It was slightly lazy and did nothing for me.  Saying that, the potatoes were crisp, slightly burned and gooey in the centre, cooked in beef dripping and sprinkled with herbs and a generous helping of salt and pepper.  The gravy was sweet and exactly right in the seasoning department - not too powerful but a nice backdrop to the whole thing.  The Yorkie was also a highlight - HUGE, crisp and slightly soggy underneath (this is never a bad thing), soaking up the gravy like a sponge.  It was an absolute delight to eat and a welcome change from the overcooked, overcrisp excuses that some places serve.  They'd definitely practised the recipe, and the time spent paid off.

For all my criticism, the roast was a good size - unlike the Foragers, you got enough food for your money to fill you up - and I did feel like I got my money's worth as the amount of beef was simply epic.  The potatoes were special and the table service adds a certain something to the experience - it's nice to be waited on in a pub.  The drinks were different and the service was quick and polite, with smiling staff always on hand to help and assist.  The Yorkies alone are a reason to go!

If you like your meat plentiful, organic and local and you don't really mind having a simple veg accompaniment, then I fully recommend this place - if only to make you grin on a rainy Sunday.

7.5/10

3 Hove St, Hove BN3 2TR
Tel: 01273 736123
Booking absolutely essential, even for a party of two; credit/debit cards accepted
http://www.gingermanrestaurants.com/