A Tale of Two Restaurants, Eating out in Jumieges, France

A tale of two restaurants. (but only one city, well village)

I’m going to talk holiday. I’m allowed. It happens. I’m sure that you go on holiday and eat out too.

And this is all about food really because we made a terrible faux pas early on in our trip to the Loire valley in July. We chose a restaurant according to its Michelin star. Now I am not one of those people who goes bemoaning the Michelin star world. I like good hearty honest food, and ethnic food, but I also love innovative food with special attention. What this all comes down to is that I like food, and unlike when choosing where to live as either relaxed or busy, modern or traditional, or quirky, it’s one area I can change what I have every day.

However, despite picking the top end tasting menu at La Gambetta in Saumur we found the Michelin starred restaurant hugely disappointing, with elegantly designed dishes, that had nothing interesting to offer in terms of taste or flavour combinations.

Pretty but dull at La Gambetta

And this put us on a bad footing all holiday. We started searching for more homely type offerings, but when deciding on a location we would find it was not open on the night we were looking for.

So this was the mood we were in on our return home via Jumieges checked into our spa hotel and were offered the option of booking into Auberge du Bac, described as having beautiful views, and Auberge des Ruines described as being a gourmet restaurant. We were flummoxed. We asked for more time to consider the question.

Eventually I suggested that we book dinner at Auberge du Bac. This was because my La Gambetta experience had left me a little jaded about the use of the word gourmet, and Auberge du Bac scored well in trip advisor with words like ‘authentic’

But it worried me at night. It disturbed my massage and jaccuzi trip. (OK, I am exaggerating a bit for the elevated purpose of making sure you know how great a trip I had) and eventually I reasoned, well, we had to have lunch somewhere… so why not at the gourmet restaurant? And we could exercise restraint by having their cheapest set menu this time. My husband agreed with this readily and that was the plan we went for.

Let me just underline that we chose the cheapest menu at Auberge du Ruines that was EUR25, and a Euro isn’t going very far at the moment. This was how it went: Refreshing tomato salad with tomato sorbet, an exciting fish dish, strawberries with popping meringue discs , and other delights. It was flawless. It was exciting.

Refreshing tomato salad with tomato sorbet,

We ordered off ipads –now that bit was pretentious. They weren’t interactive (saving valuable wait for the waiter time) and they occasionally crashed. Although I liked the connect 4 sugar balls presented with the coffee, the petit fours were a bit stodgy.

This was one of the nicest meals we had all holiday, under the shadow of the impressive Normandy ruins.

So I was pretty glad I squeezed in that lunch. We walked down to the Seine in the evening to ensure that we tried to burn off room for dinner at Auberge du Bac. And here we picked one of the more mid-range menus, that was of a similar price to lunch. Let me begin with the starter, seafood profiterole. Now profiteroles are just pastry, and yep, this starter was mostly pastry. However it is more usual for profiteroles to have some sort of flavour, and one might expect this to hold true when they are named after seafood. But, nope, there was no flavour in this profiterole. You know it didn’t have to be seafood flavour, it could have tasted of garlic, or cheese, or just basic seasoning. It did however bring one unique feature: sogginess. I saved the top in case it tasted better. It didn’t. The waiter didn’t even bother to ask why we hadn’t finished our starter. He swept it away without giving us a chance to comment. I figured he’d tasted it too.

Here is the cod in chorizo. I hope you are comparing and contrasting with the pictures above, because these meals cost exactly the same. I think that it would be more accurate to call this cod with chorizo dumped on top, any benefit in flavouring the cod by frying it in Chorizo juices was lost on this chef, bless him. Kind of.

And the cheese dish. You know I don’t want to harp on about it, but this meal did cost the same as the last dish.

The lemon soufflé was alright. The tarte tatin, yeah well you can see the picture.

And at no point did anyone ask if we had a good meal, even though it was obvious we had left some of the dishes. Only the very young trainee waiter asked as he took our payments. We looked at him sadly and said, not really, but that was nothing to do with you.

Review of Ice Cream at the White House Bakery in Greenwich Park

The White House Bakery in Greenwich Park

Is it possible to have a walk in Greenwich Park in summer without wanting ice cream? Really, if it is possible, this is an experience I have yet to achieve. And I don’t just mean because Black Vanilla is at the road at the bottom, because to me, Black Vanilla is quite so-so. Instead we had in mind the ice cream stall in the herb garden, which has recently re-opened after an extended absence.

The White House Bakery did sound like you might go in with an ice cream desire and come out with several cakes and coffee stowed away in your digestive system. The posters within the White House Bakery compounded this impression, showing layers of rich cake with thick fillings.

The White House Bakery in Greenwich Park

The reality is that there were three cookies going on a glass plate in a corner. Not three types of cookies, but three cookies. We looked around the café to see if perhaps they had just had a huge party of bakery lovers who ate all the promised cake. The café was empty but for us.

Oh, yeah. There were also rows and rows of pre-packed sandwiches.

Which is all a little bit sad because the ice cream was delicious. My blackcurrant and clotted cream ice cream was exactly what is should have been, biting blackcurrant with rich clotted cream texture. It was spoilt only by a too sweet cone, a common phenomenon. 

Clotted Cream Icecream

We ate them in the herb garden surrounded by bees, debating whether bumble bees make any honey at all.

Empanda Masterclass at Cau

A Review of Empanada Masterclass at Cau, Blackheath

Have you ever had the experience of not actually ordering for ages, despite hunger, because there are so many exciting options on the menu. Cau, in Blackheath presented the most impressive solution to solve this problem I have ever seen, they invited us to a master class where they presented the steak cooked in most of the ways of the menu. 

They called this an Empanada Master Class. I like empanada’s but I think they undersold themselves in the name here, no?

Wee..ll okay, they didn’t offer us everything off the menu, just  a hefty chunk of the crowded speciality cut steak menu, followed by the empanada’s they cooked (Cau wisely provided takeaway boxes for the ones their guests prepared, although please note that my husband won a bottle of wine for his efforts as joint 2 best empanadas.)

They certainly demonstrated some impressive cuts. We saw them raw first:

Got talked through how the cut is used by the chef – how to cut around the muscle, and slice and how to spice. My favourites were Asado de Chorizo. Alert Chorizo sign! always a good reason to seriously consider a dish from a menu. However no sausage featured in this Chorizo, this dish was sirloin with chorizo type flavours (paprika, chilli, garlic); and   Tapa de Cuardril, thinly sliced, well salted rump steak which drew frequent comparisons to bacon.

So that when Cau then sat us down for our main courses (yes, the sampling the entire menu and eating emapanadas was generally considered the starters), we ordered these as our mains. Brilliant. I was then presented with a brick of  Asado de Chorizo. 

  More steak than I could ever consider ordering… I’d remembered the flavour and forgotten to check the size: 500g.  Fortunately i had left a little room by declining the side of chips and ordered tomato salad, allowing me to steal my husband’s chips. 

  My husband  I had more reasonably Tapa de Cuardril endured its deliciousness throughout the meal.

None of this stopped us ordering desserts. Had they been a bit more boring, i might have considered skipping them – THATs how full I was. But the menu had a few intriguing options, including frequent use of the dulce de leche phrase. I settled on three-milk cake. All good. This was kind of a lemon meringue in basic ingredients but the added cream, condensed and evaporated milk (and no pastry) took the flavour in a completely different direction. And, no offence to Lemon Meringue Pie it was a good direction.

Shamefully, knowing that we started our meal at the same time as everyone else, we were the first to leave. Ah well, happy people eat steak fast.

*The  meal and masterclass at Cau were entirely complimentary to promote August’s #CAUnival (try getting that past spell check) and you should know that ‘free food’ always makes me happy (even if it was free cabbages). #CAUnival has been introduced to support the charity Action Against Hunger.

10-12 Royal Parade, London SE3 0TL

The Royal Standard Pub in Blackheath, SE3

A Review of the Royal Standard Pub in Blackheath, SE3

I think it is only right to blog about the recent tweet up that I was invited to by Blackheath Royal Standard the other day as part of their refurbished pub launch. A tweet up, apparently means free food and drink (the free drink turned out to include all Meantime beer – curses I was having a dry June) whilst being asked to tweet about it because it makes you happy. So please note that even though I have ‘paid in tweet’s for my food, this blog is severely prejudiced, as ‘free food’ has to be one of my favourite things, (shortly followed by ‘food’) and automatically improves my mood.

I reached the tweet up a little mystified as to how this thing would work and it took 2 drinks and ordered starters before we properly worked out where the other tweeters were sitting. @Welovedeptford and @MisterGreenwich were represented, making a nice triangle of local postcodes for the Royal Standard. This combination meant that I did get to sample most of the starters, which is an unusual achievement even by my standards and my recommendations would be the chorizo, whitebait and the squid. We had just come back from a coastal holiday with plentiful supplies of fresh fish, on the beach, barbeque and restaurant, and had been a leeetle bit concerned about mercury levels. The starters were so delicious we forgot about this.

Chorizo and Sourdough

I suffered extraordinary food envy at the main course, as I was out dished by every tweeter and tweeter sidekick on the table. It never would have crossed my mind to go for the Southern Chicken… until it appeared, and @WeLoveDeptford ordered the slow cooked British short rib, which was huge and looked amazing, but was hard to photograph without revealing the tweeter’s identity. I was allowed a bite of my husband’s burger which was delicious.

 My My steak sandwich appeared to be the poor relation, presented on dry (unbuttered bread) and waaay over done. Seriously, my guess would be that I had insulted the chef, really insulted the chef. But I don’t really see how I had the time to between being invited and ordering the food. Was it about the not drinking thing? Upsets some people.

Our host also thought we should review the sides, but ordered them mid- meal meaning that they came after our mains and our cutlery had gone. Did this hold us back? Not really to be honest. The winner here was the sweet potato fries. I am not sure that anyone else on the table spotted this.

Desserts were equally rewarding. My blood orange cheesecake was perfect. Sweet and bitter, and crumbling all at the same time, along with the blackcurrant coulis. I had a picture of this, but it isn’t playing ‘ball’ on the blog. Other tweeters reported exceptionally good ice cream. They all recommended it, uniformly. It sounded promising.



 With all this focus on food, the refurb (the whole reason we were there) was a little bit less of the focus. But it is nicely done. All of the seats were a good quality leather, all of the tables had flowers in old whisky or gin bottles, that made you think of gin, which was a pity because of the dry June.

And being with a bunch of local tweeters, never has such a centralised source of all local gossip emanated from the left hand corner of the Royal Standard pub as it did that Wednesday evening. Here was what I learned in the blur of the following few hours: Meantime beer has been taken over by a large corporation. The Cutty Sark is being ruined by strange health and safety barriers around the flat fountain (of already dubious invention); many conspiracy theories surround the non-opening of the central Greenwich Buenos Ares that has been ‘now recruiting’ for about 9 months. The Crown in Greenwich is a Very Good Pub; the Silvertown tunnel plus Ikea plus the new Sainsbury’s will equal traffic Armageddon; Smoking Salmon is excellent and well loved, but struggling to find a home. No one can work out why the roof of the new Greenwich Market looks exactly like the old roof. There are thousands of new homes being built but no new roads and Charlton Lido is a hidden gem.I also know the location of the next Greenwich tweet up, but I haven’t quite got it in me to turn up un-invited…

44 Vanbrugh Park, Blackheath, London, SE3 7JQ


A Review of Sefa Restaurant, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich SE10

A Review of Sefa, Turkish Restaurant, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich SE10

I frequently find that the items on Turkish restaurant menus presetn chokes of kebab that are hard to discern the differences on. What really is the meaning of shish as in shish kebab? We all pondered this at the table at Safa restaurant and agreed we should google it some time. Here I sit at a computer right now. Yeah, I will google it sometime.

I ordered an Adana kebab (peppers and lamb) as I ate Turkish bread with a really spicy sauce. The bread was gorgeous, however, my delicious Adana kebab was apparently the worst of the kebab offerings, according to those who wisely ordered the mixed grill. This made me feel discontent when I was otherwise perfectly happy.


But what really struck me in the food envy stakes was the yogurt kebabs. You see, it worried me that my kebab might be a little dry served with salad and rice only. It turned out to be very rich and oily, but the kebabs with yogurt were on a different level altogether, drenched in yogurt sauce and butter and bread and sauce that was probably just a combination of the three. Both of the dish types were enormous, the yogurt one in particular and really could be shared between two.

And here’s the other debate for a google. Should you eat the leaves of a radish? This came to light when I saw that I had eaten the bulb and left the leaf, while by friend had eaten the leaf and left the bulb. Between the 2 of us perhaps we would have left the platter clean, but you know. Germs and all that.

Desserts all seemed to end in Sundaes. Well, mostly Sundaes. I will concede that there were also three turkish desserts and two cheesecakes. Which left me with a quandary. I prefer authentic. Mostly because for ‘authentic’ read: not what I ate last week or for a substantial period of my childhood. However, the other day I sampled a friend’s homemade cheesecake and suddenly converted back to cheesecake with an investigative habit, seeking that homemade cheesecake experience all over again at every restaurant that offered it. This is a food that I had written off as a ‘business as usual, chuck in chocolate and cream and base and everything will be ok’ thoroughly boring dessert that appeals to the nothing more than supplying disproportionate amounts of calories at the end of the pub meal. So I ordered baked 3 chocolate cheesecake. Yes, I even broke my no chocolate in dessert rule this day.
Well, it was made with good quality chocolate: The meal so far had led me to be believe that it ought to be. But it was very heavy and the emphasis was on the cheese and chocolate rather than a really good base. So, if you like cheesecake normally, I think this was a good sample. But I think it reminded me why I don’t like cheesecake.

Safa was very popular, heaving with customers. I tried to remember what it replaced. Does anyone remember, and did it have this many regular fans? But I still haven’t googled Shish kebab.

129-131 Trafagar Road
SE10 9TX, London
Phone: +0208 269 0233?

Each and every meal description was essentially a roast: Roast SE1 review

A Review of Roast in Borough Market

I’m not sure why a restaurant called ‘Roast’ appealed… A roast is a very acceptable meal type, but one that I have had once a week for a very long part of my life, and that can also be had for just seven pounds fifty or less at a large number of establishments… not all of which are bad.

Further to that, seven pounds fifty is a long way from the twenty to forty pound dish price (without sides) that Roast was asking for. In compensation the menu was suitably wordy for the price upgrade, so I figured I was subsidising fellow writers, and ran with it. The only issue was that each and every meal description was essentially a roast (I refer you back to the initial comments). I mean, chicken is chicken, Lamb is lamb, jumped up bubble and squeak is still jumped up bubble and squeak. What did appeal was the scotch egg, having had an absolutely brilliant version of this in Boisdales, but this was only a starter.

In the end I ordered the chicken beans and pancetta, thinking that it is a long time since I did the Italian chicken combination.

The staff were incredible. I’ll own up to being a little uptight on the way in… This was due to the fact that I actually had looked up online whether the market would be open on a bank holiday (which seemed unlikely) and being told that the food establishments would be. This proved to be far from the truth, meaning we turned up to Roast hungry and pretty much telling the staff that we would only stay if we would get our food quite quickly. Within seconds, the waitress was at the table to tell us which dishes could be prepared soonest, and delivered within moments of ordering.

The chicken was hearty… Very hearty indeed. That will be the beans, then. I am beginning to think that really beans should only come as beans either in their own baked right or in chilli con carne. But the slow cooked lamb was delicious, falling apart at the touch of the fork, and doused in a curious mint and onion chutney.

Desserts came not only with recommended dessert wines, but with recommended cocktails. You know how I feel about daytime drinking, but you can guess how I feel about matched cocktails….

Well the baked cream with cherries was disappointingly a creme brulee. I have no issues with creme brulee, live and let brulee, I say. But I wish I knew this was what I was ordering. The recommended cocktail was nice enough, a chocolate type attempt that I have forgotten the name of.

It was around about the stage that I was taking my second bite of the cinnamon doughnut, that I thought: I really feel quite full now, but the doughnut combined with the sherbet lemon ‘white lady’ cocktail was a little bit hard to stop tasting. Roast turned out to have even forethought the fact that diners who had dessert might struggle with even the smallest petit fours offered with their coffee. They provided rice crispy cakes. I looked and I thought, you know what, I do have room for that after all.

A steamed bun is hard to come by

La-Mian & Dim Sum of Greenwich market, you have a fight on your hands, nestled there to close to Jamaican jerk chicken, Mexican food, and churros (oh, those churros). But I have to say a steamed bun is hard to come by, and in my experience, rather hard to re-create at home (Jamie Oliver’s 15 minute meals offer a valiant attempt!) so I can see that you are holding your own…

I don’t know why steamed buns are not more famous at LMDSGM (I am going for an acronym here, as I can see that Dim Sum is a food, but not speaking Chinese I can’t see how to shorten the name any other way). It is such a great combination, the slight sweetish white dough around chicken things mushroom and spices. On the day I tried it, it would have been a slightly less dry combination had I remembered to pick up some plum sauce.

It is rewarding experience to see the food cooked in front of you in the space of a square yard, although I think I made this man a little shy when I took the photo.

We ate the steamed buns on the steps in front of the Cutty Sark and followed it up with roast duck on a bed of sticky rice. This was great duck and great rice, but over all a bit dry. It had been coated with sauce that failed to slip under the duck to the rice, and there was a delicious chutney in one corner which wasn’t nearly enough for the whole dish. Some more veg than two halves of a pak choi would also helped a bit.

Service was hard to comment on. We ordered, they cooked straight away, they said “here we are”. The only thing that slowed us down was our impatience to tuck in.

Oppression yields creative genius, a Review of My Detox Diet SE10

A Review of My Detox Diet in Greenwich SE10

Had I seen the name of My Detox Diet before seeing their cakes, I may not have ventured in. And the sheer abandon of the words gluten free and vegan in the window made me think twice even then. Funnily enough, I do cook a lot of the sort of things they do, and I don’t find vegan or gluten free a food turn off. “Detox” however is less enticing with its constant accusation of being a meaningless word. Good thing that the window of cakes was like a siren to my cake addiction


I am a big fan of some of the alternative nutrition food bloggers, not because I have any specific health needs, but I think that like any form of creativity, setting bars on what you can use is the best way to result in a genius invention. As an obvious start they will be using ingredients more inventively by necessity than someone with no such constraints. Oppression yields creative genius (this isn’t a political recommendation, by the way). Who would have known that the sweet potato brownie tasted so good, if no one needed to restrict their diet gluten free? So vegan and celiac chefs will be looked back upon as the food equivalent of Michelangelo of our current food renaissance. You heard it here first. 


But “My Detox Diet” are not nutrition nazis, actually they couldn’t be further than nazis, they were very sweet and understanding of the ignorance of the customers who at least believe they can still eat anything. It seemed to be a place of anything goes. For example, coffee was clearly allowed amongst all of the healing smoothies and juices. We found sugar, yes high quantities of sugar (12%) in our drinks (not by scientific testing, but by reading the ol’ nutritional info on the side of the can).


My cakes turned out to be vegan, and my drink was a sanpelligrino grapefruit fizz (possibly not vegan – who knows what is in any processed food these days?) which was a bit mean of me as I have no close vegan friends and many celiac friends who could have done with a gluten free recommendation. 


The coffee cake was rather wow, packed full of ground almonds, perfectly gooey and superior to most non vegan versions. I am not sure how come it was so moist when presumably so butterless.


The black forest cake was less good. It tasted like the list of compromises in cake making with restricted ingredients. It was made up of three different layers, a drier sponge, acting like a tart base for a chocolate brownie filling, and topped with forest fruits. These seem like good ideas but they were not working for me, the outside sponge too dominating, too dry, and too much not really cake at all. I could hardly taste the fruit, though I cannot quite understand why this is. 


Had I had more time, and stomach spare, I would like to have experimented with some of the offerings. Like those Spiriluna balls (Spiriluna being an algae that is full of protein and other nutrients). Do I believe it’s ‘all that’? Sorry, no I don’t. I am a born cynic, but do I think that a healthy diet is made up of diversity. And you know what, if I’m wrong about that, I can at least guarantee that a fun diet is made up of diversity… go cook!

Life is best lived by ending a meal with your favorite bite: Le Bouchon Review

Le Bouchon, Blackheath Review

Both of my favorite meals in France were eaten in rustic restaurants, with people drinking wine from elegant carafes, and Le Bouchon absolutely aims to channel this image in it’s bijoux location opposite the Mary Evan’s picture library. It’s pretty successful in doing this actually, especially on a Sunday evening where a singer and a guitarist strum whimsical French and English tune and the sun streams through the windows. We had not eaten before arriving and we knew that we would have to order food to accompany any drinking that needed to be done.

We anticipated cheese and ham platters, but what was a delight to find was that Le Bouchon offered a choice on every element of the platter. You could pick your own cheese and deli meat, each detailed on the menu and you could have as much or as little as you liked. We both ordered tapenade, which arrived with the equivalent of a small loaf of bread each, with dark rich olive dip that was hard to put down. Next came the cheese (with strawberry jam) we’d chosen Comte*, mature goats’s cheese, with a creamy depth that went well with the jam, and the best: a spongy and richly flavoured Ardechois bichonne, encased in mould. The meats were duck saucisson and Bresi (cured beef, smoked for 8 weeks), both curling on the edges with dryness and herbs.


 Now, since childhood, my mother has wisely ingrained in me the truth that life is best lived by finishing any meal with your favorite bite. This presents challenges when there is too much food, like in cream teas when you don’t actually have room for the spectacular looking cake at the top of the cake tray, after your sandwiches and scone with clotted cream. But Le Bouchon presented a different challenge…. It was not possible to decide which bite to end on. In fact, I relegated the Comte as ‘first finisher’, but I regretted it… with its extra dryness and maturity reminding me that this was not just any old version of one of my favorite cheeses. Having assigned Ardechois bichonee as the cheese finalist, the whole assessment had to be reconsidered in the light of the saucisson. My husband suggested that the Bresi was the best of the two, I committed to believe him and not think about it anymore at risk of frying my brain with the decision, and totally forgetting about the tapenade.

We ate all of this with a Bordeaux, and my husband had a St Chinian, Languedoc. Now, I have to remind you this is not a wine blog, but we both found the Bordeaux to be great alone, and less good with food, and the opposite with the wine from Languedoc. Yes, we sipped from each other’s glasses in order to know this. Every other table had a carafe, which looked temptingly romantic, but we just don’t drink enough to justify it. This didn’t cause the slightest of problems for the bar who opened fresh bottles for each of our glasses, and then resealing them immediately with a resealing machine.

The only flummoxing thing about Le Bouchon was the existence of ‘cake of the day’ on the menu. Cake is not the first thing I think of to complement wine (although, now I come to think of it, an olive oil polenta lemon and thyme cake might just do the trick) but my brain is hardwired to default cake as the most desirable item on any menu. But there was no further cake information to be found. There was no cake on the tables around us, or in a display stand or written on the blackboard behind me. It’s rare, but I looked around for a sign of cakeness for a few seconds, and then forgot all about cake amongst the wine and the deli.

*Sorry, I do not know how to add French accents on my keyboard. French accents abounded at Le Bouchon, though. Adding to the authenticity.

The Top is the Best Bit of Any Pie

The British Oak’s social media image has been raising an inviting image for some time, but errr, well, I’ve not been too sure how much of a lack of multiculturism to read into its name. In fact it took the closure of The Royal Standard (which, now I come to think of it, is a also a very imposing name – and it’s easy to mix up the two), for my friend to finally arrange drinks there. The kitchen normally closes at 9:30 and we were to be a 9:45 arrival, but the pub promised to stay open to serve us pie. The welcome turned out to be continued well beyond the electronic and telephone level, despite having staff training.


The bar is inexplicably divided into what seems to be more of an eating area, and a drinking area. Ok, a split would be normal, but in the Royal Oak you can’t go from one to the other without leaving the pub. We started in the bar area, and rushed around to the eating area just in case our friend might be in there without us. She wasn’t, she was just taking a sociable time about arriving. Even had she been there she would have been perfectly content, the whole atmosphere of the eating area was happy and chilled. No lack of multiculturism seemed in evidence at all. There were even brummies present (myself included).

The Royal Oak sources pies from ‘Pieminister’. It would be nice to believe that the British Oak made the pie themselves on site themselves, but it didn’t really seem to detract from the combined, real ale, wood panelling, friendly pie eating experience.

I can’t claim credit for the excellent pie choice, as I insisted that I couldn’t eat a thing. There was a supposedly healthy pie option, called topless, but I have issue with the topless pie concept. I am after all a dieter, you know. But the top is the best bit of any pie, browned and crispy, while the base of the pie is frequently soggy and made up of the dreaded ‘waste of calories’ the fear of which dominates many lives. Please listen award winning Pieminister… Bottomless pies are the way forwards. You can put it all in tin foil to stop the contents falling out.

So being unable to eat a thing, I waited for my husband to order and then ate half of his pie. This was the ‘free ranger’, free range British chicken & ham hock pie with leek & thyme. Man, it was gorgeous and the gravy was even more gorgeous, so were the crispy shallots and the mushy peas were a seriously good upgrade from the chippy…. Mushy peas with bite.


There wasn’t a thing to dislike about the British Oak, with charming staff and flowers on the tables and food and atmosphere. There really is something for everyone, and I think it may well be the best pub in SE3. I can’t remember what worried me about the name now… I have loads of oak in my kitchen and my home office and use both frequently (the kitchen more than the office).