Sunday Roast In the Pub

Two Sundays ago, after a friend informed me that we could walk to a country pub from our house, we did just that. We walked from our home, into the nearby woods and we walked to a country pub in a nearby village. It used to be one of our favourite pubs, before we became parents, but since then it had shut down, had new owners and we hadn't had the chance to go and eat there. Of course I had a Sunday roast. The first one I had in a long while. In fact, I can't remember the last time I ate one. It was long overdue. As you can see on this picture, I didn't stay hungry. And there is not many things as rewarding as talking a walk and then having a hearty meal in a country pub.

Craving a Sunday Roast

This picture dates back from... June 2021. It struck me recently that I haven't had a Sunday roast in ages. And by ages I mean: not since February 2023, according to my calculations, and even then, it was a "guerilla Sunday roast" (bought and eaten in a cafeteria). So we should eat one tonight. But I really am craving one in a pub, with an excessive amount of trimming on a plate. I love Sunday roasts all year round, but especially in autumn, so now is the perfect time to eat one. The season kind of enhances the gastronomical experience.

Guerilla Sunday Roast

 Last week, we went to a petting zoo. We had decided to lunch there. As it was a Sunday and they were offering a Sunday roast, we bought a Sunday roast, the first in months. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I had one. My last post on the blog about a Sunday roast dates back from June 2021, which gives you an idea. It might have been the last time I ate one. So it had been long overdue. That said, I discovered something: eating  a Sunday roast out of cardboard, with wooden cutlery and no alcohol to go with it, well, it's not the optimal experience. It tasted okay, but it felt like we were having a bit of a guerilla meal.

First Sunday Roast

Yesterday, we went to the pub for the first time in a year and a half, to meet a friend of my wife and her boyfriend. After our first shot of vaccine and keeping our distance, I thought it was a reasonable, calculated risk. So we ate, for the first time since... since forever (I can't remember the last time we did, honestly), a Sunday roast. It was delicious, with plenty of chicken and gravy, but I am so not used to pub portions that I struggled to finsh it. I didn't have any dessert. But anyway, it was really nice to get back to the pub for a Sunday roast. I had really missed it.

The next Sunday roast

I took this picture back in 2019, it is one of the last Sunday roast I had in a pub. It struck me today that I cannot remember when I last had a proper pub meal, let alone a proper pub roast, and I have no idea when I will eat a Sunday roast. And I do miss it a lot. I mean we can make one here fairly easily, but I'm not a chef, and there is something about eating one in a pub.

Sunday roast and Halloween

Today is Sunday, which means we might go for a Sunday roast. We went to a local restaurant last week and this is what I had: one of the fanciest Sunday roasts I had in ages. Sadly service was very slow and it ended up a bit of a frustrating experience. What does this British traditional meal have with Halloween you may ask and why am I making it the topic of today's countdown to Halloween post?  There is a fairly simple reason why: Halloween is associated with both food and autumn and the Sunday roast is a very seasonal meal, being very hearty. You need at least one of these meals to celebrate autumn and the coming of Halloween. Also, because of a more fantasist reason: when you fight the Forces of Darkness, it is not merely a spiritual battle. You need to be physically strong and have plenty of stamina. And what more sustaining than a Sunday roast? Sure, heavy food can give nightmares and make you irrational (see this post). But try ti fight off a zombie, a vampire, a ghoul or what have you on an empty stomach. So think about it today and don't walk in the woods or in a dark alley on an empty stomach.

A pheasant for the roast

I got my wish, we finally went to the pub today for a Sunday roast. It was at The Frog in Skirmett, a quaint english pub in a quaint English village, but we had read some positive reviews online. So anyway we went there and on the daily special there was... a pheasant roast. Hunted in the woods nearby. I know this because they warned that it might contain a shot. I could not resist trying it. I was wise, as it was absolutely delicious. Not only the best roast I had, but the best pub meal I had in years. It is difficult to describe, but basically wild animals like this taste wild. They taste of woodlands. And it was actually slightly cheaper than a lot of other things on the menu. Oh and for the record, it did contain the shot.

Roast beef

This is the last meal I had with my parents, the night before our departure. It was a Sunday, so that makes it a Sunday roast, although that was completely accidental. Roast beef like this is the only experience of Sunday roast I remember from childhood, before I even knew it was a Sunday roast: rare (or medium rare?) meat, mashed potatoes instead of roasted ones, potatoes which must be covered with parsley, and asparagus. Oh, and since I am an adult, I have red wine to go with it. I had really disappointing experiences with beef this side of the pond, I was really happy to rediscover this simple classic.

The Sunday Roast experience

Today was Sunday and we decided to initiate my parents and my brother PJ to a proper Sunday roast experience in a nearby pub. It was a proper day for it and no, not only because it was a Sunday: it was cool and dreary outside, borderline cold and we were all in dire need of comfort food. The pub was not the fanciest, but it serves decent food and the staff is always friendly (our son is very popular there). It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Wolfie had a bit of my roast (picture right) and his mummy's vegetarian version. it was so filling that we didn't have dinner yet. Although I might make myself something light for supper in a moment.

Christmas and Sunday Roast

In a week time, it will be Christmas. Which means I will have a Christmas roast, except that it will not have any meat in it, because my wife is vegetarian. So no real turkey, no real pigs in blanket, but true roasted potatoes and vegs. I am used to it, that said every year I try to have a meaty Christmas roast. This will happen today, as it is Sunday, which means Sunday roast. Both roasts are pretty much the same. I had this Sunday roast last year in a local Italian restaurant, of all places. Ironically, it was one of the best I ever had.

Hungry for a Sunday roast

It is maybe too hot today to long for a Sunday Roast, but all the same, I am really in the mood for one. Last time I ate one was a a few months ago, from what I remember it was overcast and not so warm outside. A roast is best enjoyed when it is dreary and miserable outside. Just like it was when I had the one you see on this picture. It was in the Golden Fleece Inn of York. Which I blogged about before, as it is allegedly haunted. My wife and I ate there because I thought it was fitting to eat a Sunday roast with Yorkshire pudding when in Yorkshire. And because of the ghosts, who never showed up, even after a few drinks. All the same, this was the most enjoyable roast beef I had in ages. It was pouring outside and we were in a very dark pub, devouring very hearty food (the veggie version for her) and it was very heart warming. Soon, when the baby comes, we will have to eat in far more often, so at weekends I try to take her out as much as possible. So we might go out to see if we can find something that good tonight, even though it is not the ideal time of year. But hey, it's Sunday, so that is a good enough reason.

Une révélation sur St-Hubert

Non, sans blagues, je crois avoir eu une épiphanie à propos de St-Hubert. Le repas classique, avec le poulet, les frites, la sauce, c'est en fait une version québécoise et ouvrière du Sunday roast anglais.Le poulet n'est pas rôti, mais il est quand même la pièce de viande qui est le plat principal. Ensuite il y a les frites pour remplacer les patates rôties. Il y a la sauce qui va avec, au lieu du gravy. La coleslaw parce que bon, faut bien un tantinet de légumes. Mais enfin bref, c'est un Sunday roast. Je me rappelle qu'on allait souvent manger chez St-Hubert le dimanche soir ou en après-midi, d'ailleurs. Ca nous faisait oublier qu'il y avait de l'école le lendemain. Enfin, oublier un peu. Le dernier repas St-Hubert que j'ai mangé, ce n'était pas un dimanche mais un vendredi: c'était celui avant de prendre l'avion, que j'ai pris en photo ici, parce que je suis un peu quétaine parfois et que je prends en photo mes repas pour ce blogue. Mais bon, c'est quand même la chose qui m'a frappé en regardant cette photo: le quart de poulet poitrine de St-Hubert, c'est un Sunday roast.

The crab apple jelly of Wild at Heart

There is a COOK shop now in the little town where I live. For those who are not from the UK, Cook is a shop specialized in ready meals, mostly frozen meals, but not only. It is fancy food, especially for frozen meals. It is also quite pricey, but from time to time it is nice to eat a fancy meal that you don't have to cook. As my wife and I both love their meals, we decided to pay them a visit and get a few things from there. I found among the things they sell that is not frozen and not made by their company this crab apple jelly from Wild at Heart. at £3.99, you can see it is quite a pricey product, especially for crabapple (I write crabapple in one word, not sure which is the correct spelling). In my parents' place, they have a crapabble tree that gives us plenty of fruits every two years, sometimes every year, and my brothers and I used to pick them up to make crabapple jelly. You can see the crabapple tree on this post and the crabapples in the making here. We have enough crabapples to make dozen of jars and more of jelly, and at a far cheaper price than these.

So I was reluctant to buy the jelly, but in the end I did it anyway. Because it is getting at that harvest time when I would usually pick up crabapples and because I wanted to enjoy them on toasts. I was also curious about the product and how it would compare to the home-made stuff I am so fond of. So I had some this morning with my breakfast. It is indeed quite nice. That said, it is not quite a nice as the crapabble jelly my family makes (I understand I am most likely biased). The Wild at Heart version is more like a jam than a jelly, truly: a lot of it is liquid and the solid part is rather soft, not as firm as what my parents make. At £3.99, it is rather expensive for a delight that a commoner could make just as well. But it was enjoyable to taste crabapple jelly on a toast all the same. And Wild at Heart gave me a brilliant inspiration: it says on the label and on their website that their jelly is ravishing with roasts, as an alternative to redcurrant jelly or cranberry sauce. And reading this it struck me: why did I never think about it before? So tonight we will have some on the side of our Sunday roast, which we also bought in COOK. And next time I am home, I will also accompany our Sunday roast with crabapple jelly.

Longing for a Sunday roast

I took this picture a couple of months ago in a local pub. It is a typical Sunday roast, with all the trimmings. It is not the best Sunday roast I ever ate, but it is good, honest, hearty food. Looking at the picture today, I thought it would be nice to eat one, as I did not have one in ages. It is not quite the right time for it though: whatever I said a few days ago, the temperature is now far more seasonal and I find Sunday roasts to be best enjoyed on a cold day. So tonight I will have something much lighter. In a way, I am not so much longing for a Sunday roast than for the time of Sunday roasts.

Sunday Roast

It is Sunday, the last day of the weekend and I don't know if you are like me, but I often have the Sunday blues. Here is a way I suggest to fight it: eat a Sunday roast. Charming British tradition, which I love. It might be a bit hot for you this Sunday, depending of where you live, but this is the perfect meal if you feel melancholic, hungry and if you want to forget any prejudice you may have against English food, this is the meal for you.

That is, if you find the right place to eat it. And this leads me to the second intention of this post: to plug the item on the menu of a particular pub, to celebrate the weekend. Even though the weekend is ending, this is a new tradition on this blog. I took this picture and this particular roast at the Grouse & Ale in Lane End, an English village in Buckinghamshire . If you travel there, you better book in advance, because it is very popular (and rightly so). It is an old fashioned, old looking pub full of atmosphere and the food is delicious. I was lucky enough to have the last roast available that day. The potatoes were roasted in duck fat. I felt guilty until the last bite, but they were the best ones I had in ages. In fact, the whole roast was maybe the best Sunday roast I ever had in a pub. Usually there is at least one thing I like less, either some mash that tastes weird or the gravy is not the best. Now everything was simply perfect.

Steak d'orignal

Coeurs sensibles s'abstenir: ceci est un steak d'orignal, que mon père a fait cuire sur barbecue à un moment donné cette année. Cela dit, n'étant pas encore cuit, bien c'est un morceau de chair sanglante. Enrobée dans du bacon. C'est pas décadent rien qu'un peu. C'est dimanche, le jour en Angleterre du Sunday roast. Je me suis rendu compte une fois que j'ai appris l'existence du Sunday roast, que le roast beef que l'on mangeait très souvent dimanche soir au Québec était tributaire de cette tradition britannique. Parfois, rarement, le roast beef devenait un roast... moose. Ou un roast beef d'orignal comme on le disait, ou alors un steak d'orignal. C'est bon pas rien qu'un peu.

Sunday roast

English below...

Je sais que c'est de l'humour un peu malsain, mais je ne peux pas m'empêcher de trouver ce gag de Phylactère Cola particulièrement comique. On a un Sunday roast ce soir, mais on mange végé.
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This is utterly sick but irresistible humour from Phylactère Cola. We are having a veggie Sunday roast tonight, like every Sunday night. Every time I have one, I think of this joke. I cannot help but find it hilarious: