When I was at university, I lived in Mortlake, just up the road from Barnes. It was then that I first popped into The Sun Inn and fell head-over-heels in love. For years after that visit, even once I’d moved away, I waxed lyrical about the south-west London pub. I remembered it as a cosy warren of low lighting, roaring fires and purple walls. In my head were sweet pictures of strawberry beer, chips the size of Duplo bricks and coots pirouetting on the icy lake outside. Normally, rose-tinted memories like those turn out to be the result of one too many rounds at the bar, but when I moved back to London I booked back into The Sun for Sunday lunch. And – dramatic pause – it really was as lovely as I remembered. The roasts are old-school classics (rosemary-and-garlic lamb, half a roast chicken, 12-day-aged beef) but with a dash of quality (no death by heat lamp here). As a veggie, I get the nut roast, drench it in velvety gravy and chomp through crinkly cabbage and cumulus clouds of cauliflower cheese, which I fold inside the balloon of yorkshire pudding. Truthfully, though, all that is just the warm-up. I really come here for the pudding. A trough of sweet-and-sharp apple pie, the blob of ice cream melting as I gargle ale like I’m Henry VIII and inhale the scent of wet dog. Ah, Barnes, you’re like the posh countryside (only with way better transport links). Rosemary Waugh
It’s officially roast season, which (hopefully) means gravy by the bucketload, massive yorkshire puddings and a vast pile of roast potatoes. We asked five writers to wax lyrical about their favourite roast dinners across the city, from veggie options to classic roast beef. Let’s tuck in.
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