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 Mesmerist

Roast Dinner: £10.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle cider £3.60; draught ale £3.40; soft drinks £2.10
Desserts: All £4.50

The Mesmerist is Brighton's newest pub - situated on the site of the old Frankie and Benny's on the South Lanes, just over from the Town Hall, it is a welcome break from the usual haunts that side of town - there's only so much Cafe Rouge, Zizzi or Pablo's a person can take before they start to crave something a little bit different.  The Mesmerist is just that - with bells on.  With it's unique decor - a full suit of armour being the focal point - and it's claim to be Brighton's first 'burleque-themed public house', it truly is, well... Mesmerising.  Boasting a weekly magic club, its own magazine and frequent rockabilly and jazz evenings, it's all very much what Brighton is about and what we have been sorely missing the last few months in the wake of Tesco and Sainsbury's taking over every available patch of land.  Am I glad these people got this site instead of the Tesco demons?  Hell yes. 

What strikes me as impressive about the place is that despite it's unusual, slightly scenester-ish decor, it's not frequented by d*ckheads.  Instead, the clientele are from all generations and walks of life, and this, I believe, is down to the staff.  Friendly, open and no-nonsense, they welcome you with open arms and one gets the feeling that this is not simply because they've only just opened.  The seating is plentiful and varies from tall tables to slouchy sofas, and the space has been utilised well.  The bar is huge and well-stocked, and even the loos are a little bit magical.

We entered on impulse one hungover Sunday afternoon - it was 2 o'clock and neither of us could be arsed to cook, and having spent a couple of fun evenings in the Mesmerist we decided to give it a go.  We took a sofa table by the window and a waitress was over within minutes.  Friendly, affable and sweet, she referred to us as 'sweetheart' and 'darling' (something I personally love) in a way that wasn't pretentious or idiotic.  She wasn't perturbed when we said we didn't want to order anything until the arrival of my brother, and simply left us alone until we called her over when he arrived.

The roasts on offer were the usual, and I plumped for the lamb.  My partner went for the pork belly and my brother, the beef.  We also ordered drinks, which were also brought to the table - the only time we had to get up was to use the loo, which can only be a bonus.  The great thing about this place is that they also run their regular menu on a Sunday, which boasts a selection of pies and mash - on offer this particular day was chicken and asparagus and beef & ale - so there truly is something for everyone.  They call gravy, gravy and make no bones about what to expect - no fancy language or dressing up of the menu (I love that they gave the anglicised version of moules, but spelled 'muscles').

Our roasts took about tweny minutes to arrive - spot on.  Not so long as for me to become rage-filled with hunger, but not too quick so as to send the message that the food has gone from freezer to microwave to plate.  I was impressed.  A nice, ample portion of lamb, slightly pink in the centre, sat atop a selection of colourful (if slightly odd) veg.  My partner's pork belly was magnificent - crispy, nicely browned and salted to perfection; pink in the middle and still succulent.  The beef was medium rare and served in thick wedges.  Props to the chef, as all of the meat was wonderful.  The veg, on the other hand, was a little odd - we had the regular carrots and roast spuds, which were beautiful - the carrots were buttered and sweet, and the potatoes crisp and fluffy - though at 2 small carrots and potatoes per plate, I thought they were being awfully stingy.  The rest, however, was a bit weird - we had cabbage, which was apparently spiced but tasted like liquorice, and some odd cheesy sauce concoction which was smeared on the bottom of the plate.  Put together, these were definitely an acquired taste - one I couldn't get used to.  It was all just a bit... off.  The Yorkies were also a bit of a letdown - to quote a friend who ate there last week, "they're distinctly Aunt Bessie-ish," a little too uniform and overdone for me to truly believe they were homemade.

Despite this, the quality of the meat - locally sourced - made up for the weird taste experience of the veg.  We decided to share a dessert, despite the fact that the roast was more than enough - I always eat more on a hangover.  Man, am I glad we did.  We went for a cherry bakewell slice (an odd one for a pub to serve) with cream, and it was massive.  Huge.  It was also beautiful.  Whatever you do, just don't try to eat a dessert at this place alone, unless you're twenty stone and used to humungous portions. 

To summarise, The Mesmerist is a welcome addition to Brighton, especially during this uncertain time, when the whole city seems to be succumbing to the lure of consumerism and is losing its individuality.  Despite the veg being as odd as the decor, I'd fully recommend a visit for a truly unique and friendly experience.  We even had children sat next to us who were quiet and well-behaved.  It's like the whole place is under a spell. 

And with The Mesmerist having its very own magic club, maybe it is...

8/10

1-3 Prince Albert St, Brighton BN1 1HE
Tel: 01273 328542
Credit/debit cards accepted
www.drinkinbrighton.co.uk/mesmerist

The Dorset

Roast Dinner: £8.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle cider £3.85; pint lager £3.70; soft drinks £1.90
All desserts: £4.95

Arriving at The Dorset on a warm, sunny afternoon, we were immediately welcomed by the change in atmosphere in the place.  Despite the place being taken over by new management in recent months, I had been prepared to feel as I had always felt when attending drinks at The Dorset - a little uncomfortable; the feeling of eyes looking down noses burning into me and a general air of disrespect.  However, I was pleasantly surprised - no longer is this a place for posers and wannabes - no sirree, The Dorset has had a makeover (of sorts), and what a crowd-pleaser it seems to have become.  The air was warm and welcoming, the staff smiling and genuine and the menu looked absolutely delicious.  Having been shown to our table, the staff couldn't do enough - drinks were brought promptly, cold and iced; our choices were requested after a suitable wait and the dining area itself was bright, cheerful and had a nice air of chatter within it.

Now, The Dorset has always been renowned for its food - particularly its Moules - so I was harbouring high hopes for this place.  Following the London-Brighton bike ride, this was a choice of a friend as we'd happily agreed to sample the delights with him in celebration of his wheeled victory.  The menu was straight up - three meats and a veggie option with all the added extras - 'potatoes, yorkshire and seasonal vegetables.'  Exciting.  Once again I opted for a beef, same as my friend Ray; Dan, my partner for pork belly with crackling.  I was absolutely starving, and was definitely looking forward to my roast - despite the sun and the heat, it was sorely needed after a heavy Saturday evening.  So we sat back with our cold Westons Organics and we waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.


And some more...  Until 40 minutes had passed and we had to enquire as to the whereabouts of our food before poor Ray vanished into nothingness.  The waiter mumbled an excuse, then disappeared.  A further five minutes passed before we asked again; five minutes after that the roasts finally arrived.  Had it been any other Sunday, a 50-minute wait may not have been a problem, but some days, especially one where a good friend has cycled 54 miles, you need to get food quickly.  Granted, they were full, but we were literally the last to get served in the place.  Even after those who'd sat down long after we'd arrived.


Grrr.


Anyway.  Back to the roast - enough moaning.  Strange presentation they have at The Dorset - meat and potatoes and a nicely roasted shallot on the plate, with a cabbage medley on an accompanying side plate.  I thought this a little strange - such a waste of crockery - but as Ray has kindly put it - "saves me the work of pushing them to one side - I prefer the meat and potatoes."  Fair point, well made.  Only problem was - I am the opposite of Ray.  I love my veg, and was sorely disappointed to see that my 'seasonal' selection only counted two types of cabbage, both of which, though crispy and well-cooked, lacked in any flavour or real oomph.

However, saying that, the potatoes were exquisite.  Lovely and smooth on the inside, crispy and rough on the outside; slightly salted and peppered and contrasting wonderfully with the copious amounts of gravy (a very good thing indeed).  Proper meat gravy, too - thick and dark with a great taste to it.  The shallot was crisp and tender and the portion size, though aesthetically on the small side, was more than enough to fill a hungry cyclist.

The meat, on the other hand, was varied.  I like my beef pink in the centre, but when mine arrived it was clear I'd got the edge of the joint.  Thick, rubbery and grey, it was a nightmare to cut into and a challenge to eat.  However, not a lot of fat and great seasoning made the challenge easier to stomach - it was by no means horrible; just tough.  Ray had a different story - his beef was pink, juicy and fell off his fork as it was so tender.  I had to settle for simply gawping at his fork every time he lifted a piece to his mouth, lamenting that I'd taken the first one to arrive.  Damn.

Dan was just as thrilled with his pork - declaring it "the best piece of pork I've had so far."  According to his experienced word, the crackling was just the right texture - crunchy and crispy, nicely salted; the meat itself was lean and tender and there was a distinct lack of fat running through the actual belly.  Finished in minutes, he'd wanted more.

The great thing about The Dorset is that the gravies differ with the meats.  So many places simply do a stock gravy that it's nice to see a varied choice - a gravy can really make a meal and so to concoct one that complements the food is a real touch.  Dan's pork gravy was slightly cider-sweet, whilst mine was rich and heavy.  Both fantastic.

I really wish I could say more about The Dorset, but the distinct lack of colour and variety on my plate means that in a few short paragraphs, I've pretty much covered it all.  To summarise - what is on there is wonderful (if you're lucky and get a good cut of meat), but there just isn't enough variety - making the whole experience less than worth the 50-minute wait.  To improve?  A few more vegetables and some adventure wouldn't go amiss...

6/10

28 North Road, Brighton, BN1 1YB
Tel: 01273 605423

Credit and debit cards accepted
www.thedorset.co.uk