Hold the front pages. If you are still looking for the best Sunday Roast in London, you can stop looking. I’ve think I may well have found it at the Londesborough in Stoke Newington.
We were supposed to goto the Riding House Café and have brunch/roast there, but as it was a crappy morning outside, cold, wet and windy, we decided to stay closer to home. I am so glad we did, although I know the Riding House Café will be visited soon enough.
We’d eaten at the Londesborough a couple of times now, but it’s always been for a mid week evening supper, as it’s the closest food pub to us, as the Shakespeare only does bar snacks.
The food has been good, especially the burger, although the fries were a bit hit and miss, but for some reason we’ve never managed to return for a Sunday roast, especially after finding the Jolly Butcher with its amazing array of independently crafted beers. More on that place in a week or two, or three, possibly four.
Anyhows back to the subject in hand, as we were pretty hungry we pitched up at 12.30 to find the pub completely empty, and I mean empty, apart from the three staff on hand we were the only people in there for almost an hour when people finally starting showing up. We were beginning to wonder if something had happened to the pub that we never knew about. I mean it had been a couple of months since we last ate there. Maybe someone had been poisoned or a health inspector had closed the kitchen down for a while before it reopened. Nothing so dramatic, it just turns out that people in Stokie like a late Sunday roast. Fair enough.
We skipped the starters and headed straight for the main event. One slow roasted pork belly with homemade apple sauce, and one Aberdeen Angus topside. Both came with some awe inspiring extras.
Where to start really, well the piece of slow cook pork belly was cooked to perfection and so bloody tasty. The crackling was as it should be. Crispy as hell. So damn yummy. The homemade apple sauce had a hint of spice that made it a perfect match with the fatty pork belly.
The beef was thinly sliced and was cooked to a perfect medium rare. Most pubs don’t serve topside, you normally get a sirloin or rolled rib, so it made a pleasant change. Very nice it was too. But I have to say the pork was the winner of the two. I did see the herbed chicken when we were walking out and it looked fab. Next time.
The all so necessary accompaniments were some of the best I’ve had outside my own kitchen. The root veg was on the perfect point of al dente, all nicely cubed as well. The greens had a slight crunch to them as well. God I hate overcooked veg. The gravy was thick and beefy. Shame there was just enough, I wanted more, much more.
I’ve saved the best till last. Those tatties were so bloody good, I wanted to go into the kitchen and hug every chef and thank them for giving me perfect roasties. Crispy on the outside and floury on the inside. Man they were good.
I sometimes make a lot of them and just scoff them in sarnies. Pikey I know, but been doing it since I was a kid, so I can’t help it.
We ended the meal by sharing a sticky toffee pudding with ice cream and toffee sauce. A real retro dish that took me straight back to school, although we used to have it with custard not ice cream. But it was rich and heavy but oh so bloody good, and a nice end to a great roast.
All in all this has been the best Sunday roast I’ve had in a long time. I will have to return to the Albion to fully judge them both, but I don’t think anything is going to beat this experience. I shall return, especially as it is just 10 minute stroll from my house.