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

The Alibi

Roast Dinner: £8.95
Avg drinks prices: Bottle Carlsberg £1.25; pint lager £3.05; bottled cider £3.25; soft drinks £1.65
Desserts: Approx £3.50

When I moved to Hove I didn't hold out much hope for the bars and pubs within a few minutes' walk of my front door.  For the most part they look like beer palaces - the type frequented by old lushes with veiny noses who sit outside the doors smoking Woodbines and smelling of wee or cocky chavs wearing battered Reebok Classics and trackie bottoms.   Not that I'm a snob.

However, since then I have been pleasantly surprised by both The Ginger Pig and The Foragers, and so, one post-flu, rainy, cold afternoon, the boyfriend and I decided to take the path of least resistance and head to the localest of our locals - The Alibi.  Resplendent on the corner of Victoria Terrace with a great view of the local Texaco garage and the run-down King Alfred's centre, from the outside it doesn't look much.  However, a week or so earlier I'd spent a lovely snowy afternoon in there and sampled their excellent chips n' cheese, hospitality and selection of board games, so in a time of laziness and boredom it was the natural choice.  Plus, at a whole £2 cheaper than the cheapest meat options in the other Hove establishments, the price also appealed.  It's rare to find a roast for less than a tenner nowadays.

The Alibi is a surprise to behold - with its open fire, stack of old-school games (Guess Who, anyone?), huge outdoor space and comfy sofas, its exterior is deceiving.  The clientele, though slightly chavtastic, are friendly, sociable and fun and the bar staff cannot do enough for you.  They stock a wide range of lagers including cherry beer and Staropramen on tap and whilst their ales aren't up to much, you are still spoilt for choice.  Best of all, if you're a lager fan you can pick up a bottle of Carlsberg for just £1.25 - student prices at their best.  Sometimes it's worth the trek out of Brighton.  They also do a free chilli night every Monday and have a 'build your own burger' menu, boasting a wide range of toppings and flavours, in addition to a highly appealing 'pie of the day' and sausages and mash served in a giant Yorkie.  Ace.

However, we decided to stick with the Sunday tradition and plumped for the roast.  I went for lamb, the boyfriend went for the pork, and expecting perhaps a little less than usual, we waited for our food to arrive.  When it did, we were not disappointed - what sat before us was good, old-fashioned, Nanna's-house-at-the-weekend fare - plump slices of meat, piles of boiled carrots, crispy spuds and a nice, puffed-up Yorkie.  Nothing artistic or gourmet, but just the ticket when you've just got over the 'flu and are feeling a little fragile.

The meat wasn't outstanding, but it wasn't boil-in-the-bag either - though it could have been a little more tender, it wasn't fatty or leathery.  The boyfriend's pork was simple and salty, though the crackling was a little rubbery and could have benefited from a little longer in the oven.  The gravy was proper, meaty gravy complete with a subtle flavour of rosemary and thyme, which complemented the potatoes perfectly. 

Speaking of the potatoes, these were wonderfully crisp and obviously basted in dripping - chewy in the middle and browned at the edges, almost deep-fried in appearance but with a beefy flavour, if a little dry in the middle (though the gravy helped assuage this).  They sat alongside crisp, al dente broccoli (just the way I like it), carrots that still had their bite and a good pile of peas - an unusual addition, but I was willing to give it a go.  However, here was where I was let down - the chef, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to mix the peas with a generous dollop of mint sauce, and in my eyes, mint sauce could well have been invented by the devil himself.  I couldn't bring myself to swallow them down, which was disappointing as I really had got a taste for peas over the course of the meal. 

The Yorkies were large and puffy, but evidently not home-made.  They could have been a lot worse - The Mesmerist's, for example, were small and unimpressive - at least these were of a decent size.  There was a distinctly supermarket-y taste about them, though and it really did let the plate down. 

To look at and to eat, this really is good, old fashioned, no-nonsense food.  The Alibi doesn't try to dress up its food or add impressive flavour combinations, but what it does do is cook the ingredients it does have to perfection.  The meat may not be locally sourced and the veg may be plain, but there's nothing mushy, burned or overcooked about it - certainly better than many could do themselves. 

What makes The Alibi worth the visit isn't really the food, though - it's the atmosphere.  It's rare in Brighton to find a real, old-man pub that isn't full of lushes or 'locals', which serves edible fare and has staff willing to give you the time of day.  The Alibi manages to maintain a friendly, local atmosphere without making you feel outcast, and I'd definitely recommend it for a swift afternoon stop-off.

6/10

22 Victoria Terrace, Hove BN3 2WB
Tel: 01273 733983
Credit/debit cards accepted

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 Bath Arms

Roast dinner:  £8.95 - £10.95
Avg drinks prices:  Bottle cider £3.90, pint lager £3.65, soft drinks £1.95
Desserts approx £4.95

The Bath Arms is one of Brighton's hidden gems. Tucked away in a corner of the South Lanes and overshadowed by the football-showing, cheap-burger-serving might of The Font, it's easy to overlook the traditional red-and-white decor of this haunt. However, I assure you that doing so is a huge mistake.

Small in size but surprisingly spacious, the main bar is surrounded by small tables and benches, but to the left is a large eating area, with tables that can seat up to 6 - if you have a big party though, prepare to be separated as there is no space huge enough to fit such a big group.  However, this won't really matter; the whole place has a 'living room' feel to it, especially in the winter.  It'll just be like sitting round at your auntie's house. In fact, everything about this place is 'real' - real ales, real ciders, real crisps (none of that Walkers crap), a real fireplace with real flames, real service and real, genuine, hearty food. The bar staff are equally 'real' - there's none of that pretentious air in The Bath Arms; they're just genuinely lovely people who will do all they can to make sure you enjoy your food and drink.

This is a place that remains traditional - in an age where we are expected to make our own way to the bar to place our orders before carrying our own drinks through the melee to our table, it makes a refreshing change to have waiter service in a cosy pub. The staff are knowledgeable, helpful and friendly and are willing to assist in making some (inevitably) difficult choices when it comes to your food. Service is relatively quick, too - any faster and I'd be wondering about their methods in the kitchen but a wait for food is long enough to make you realise that they really are cooking from fresh, but not so long that you are twiddling your thumbs whilst your stomach growls angrily at you.

As far as the food goes, main courses are divine. Changing daily, all food is locally produced and prepared fresh in the kitchen and manages to avoid the pretentious flourishes so well used in Brighton. A staple on the menu is the hearty portion of wild boar and cider sausages atop a creamy mountain of real mash with just the right amount of meaty gravy. Ratatouille comes in a steaming bowl and managed to convert a vegetarian friend back to the world of mediterranean vegetables after some terrible ratatouille-related experiences in the past. The fish and chips came on a huge plate, with thick-cut chips that are served at just the right temperature, though the mushy peas on the side were a little bland and left a lot to be desired. My only criticism with the main courses is the lack of vegetables - a friend who'd ordered the salmon with polenta was disappointed that she would have to pay extra for her helping of veg. It seemed a little like we were being ripped off - after all, aren't veg part of any meal?

However, this all pales into insignificance when you sit down for a Sunday Roast, and, let's be fair, this IS a blog about roasts. Choices are limited to three and you never know what those choices will be until you arrive, but whatever you choose is guaranteed to be served beautifully. The chicken, skin-on, is crispy and herby; the beef is rare and melt-in-the-mouth; the pork is sumptuous and salty without being tough, and if you're lucky to get pork belly, the crackling will be bubbly, thick and crunchy. The vegetarian choice is bursting with herby, citrussy flavours and the vegetarian gravy is not a cheap, meat substitute - they really go out of their way to ensure that veggies feel included. All roasts are served with roast potatoes (chewy and crunchy at the same time), seasonal vegetables (usually roasted carrots and parsnips with cabbages in winter; spring greens, green beans and carrots in the summer months, all providing a lovely sweet side to the dish) and a home-made Yorkshire pud.

The cabbage alone is an experience - spiced; crunchy without being overcooked and bearing a hint of cinnamon and apple - wow.  I don't even like cabbage, but this is something else.  The carrots are honeyed and crunchy; the broccoli is still crisp and the green beans are nowhere near soggy.  For veg that can so easily go wrong, it's all done perfectly, and the ever-changing menu means you'll always be surprised.

The only downfall is the gravy - not the taste but the amount of it.  Unfortunately, the chef can scrimp - but this is me complaining, and I do like my roasts to be almost swimming in the stuff.  If you only like a sprinkle of the wet stuff, then you'll be fine.  It's not a huge problem, either - the staff are always passing by and asking if you need anything, and a quick word in their ear will ensure that before you know it, you've got a little pot on your table to do with as you wish.

The desserts are also beautiful - my marscapone chocolate pot with chocolate flapjack was small but enough, the juxtaposition of crunch and cream a delight. The sticky toffee pudding is light and airy, the custard creamy and velvety without being saccharine-sweet. Choices are few, but the compact menu is only beneficial - I have a feeling you'd be sat for hours attempting to conquer option paralysis otherwise.

Sandwiches and bar snacks are also served - fresh and decently portioned, they're well worth the fiver or so you'll pay.

I have been to The Bath Arms a fair few times recently, and it's testament to how good it really is that I am willing to put the Roast Hunt on hold to satisfy my stomach. However, now the sun is starting to peek through the clouds, I am sad to say that my visits will wane somewhat - thanks to its position, The Bath Arms is a perfect winter pub, but with a severe lack of outside space and its dark-wood interior, it would feel simply too suffocating in the height of summer. I have to say, I'm a sucker for a beer garden when the sun is out, and The Bath Arms simply cannot deliver this.
To summarise, the Bath Arms is the perfect place for a date, an outing with friends or an evening meal with visiting family. In fact, it's ideal for all occasions - the atmosphere is warm and forgiving on these cold nights and the accommodating staff make the hunt for the pub in the first place totally worthwhile.

9/10 (point lost to lack of beer garden - in the winter, easily a 10)

4-5 Meeting House Lane, Brighton BN1 1HB
Tel: (08721) 077 077
Booking recommended at weekends; credit/debit cards accepted