Sunday roasts! (#13)

There are many things the British take seriously: queueing, apologizing, brewing tea "properly", football (or as we call it, soccer), debating the merits of one pub  (which they might call their "local") over another, or the importance of eating Heinz beans at breakfast (on eggs and toast - uggh). But towering above them all, like a gravy-soaked monument to tradition, is the Sunday roast.

If you’ve never experienced one (as WE hadn't)  imagine this: it’s Sunday, around 2 p.m., and an entire nation decides to eat a meal (either in a pub or at home) so large it will require a  a long nap (or as the British call it - a "lie-down") afterward. This is not just lunch. This is an event.

Of course, like all great British institutions, the Sunday roast comes with a bit of history. Traditionally, families would attend church on Sunday mornings, then return home to a piece of meat that had been left roasting for hours. In medieval times, even the royal guards were apparently fed roast beef after church. Over time, this evolved into a weekly ritual: one day set aside for family, rest, and eating something that required both planning and an elastic waistband.

It also was a smart exercise in efficiency. A large roast on Sunday meant leftovers for the following days—cold cuts, sandwiches, and meat trimmings to be added to hearty soups and stews in the following days. In other words, the Sunday roast wasn’t just a meal; it was an entire food strategy for the week, disguised as comfort, and held together by gravy.

At the center of it all is the meat—beef, chicken, lamb, or pork—roasted to perfection. Surrounding it is a supporting cast of vegetables (typically carrots, peas and parsnips). The veggies, although necessary to the Sunday roast, are certainly not the stars of the meal.

Then there are the roast potatoes (called "roasties").  Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and the primary reason many people continue to eat the meal. In reading restaurant reviews in our attempt to pick the best Sunday roasts, more time is spent discussing the potatoes than any other part of the meal; the Brits take their roast potatoes VERY seriously! I really think it is more important to the Brits than the meat.  (Oh, and for vegetarians and vegans, they all offer something called "nut roast" - no idea what it's made of, since I am in this for the beef!

But the true star—the diva, the headliner, of the plate—is the Yorkshire pudding. Not a pudding, not sweet, and definitely not optional. These golden, puffy creations are essentially edible bowls designed to hold gravy, because clearly what the meal needed was more structure for gravy containment...and the Hunts (famous gravy lovers that we all are!) were born to enjoy this!

Speaking of gravy: this is not a condiment. This is a lifestyle. A well-made gravy flows like liquid gold, coating every element of the plate in a unifying sauce of joy. And from what we can tell by our hours of research, the Brits make their gravy without flour as a thickening agent, so GF Gary is in luck!

Dessert, by the way, is not optional either. After consuming what feels like an entire farm output, the table somehow produces something sweet.  This is less about hunger and more about tradition.  And sticky toffee pudding seems to reign supreme, but there are other options, so it will be a "game day decision" to see what we pick! Rhubab crisp also seems to appear frequently on the various menus we have studied.

And then I've heard about the inevitable aftermath. The great migration to the sofa. This is the sacred post-roast coma.

In the end, the Sunday roast is more than food. It’s comfort, ritual, and a deeply ingrained national pastime. It’s the one day of the week where excess is not only allowed but encouraged, where gravy is a unifying force, and where everyone, regardless of background, can agree on one thing:

We may be full… but we could probably manage just one more roast potato!

We will be in England for four consecutive Sundays (1 in York, 1 in Chipping Campden, and 2 in London...lucky us!

Each Sunday, we will take on a different location, carefully evaluating the nation’s finest offerings with the seriousness of judges on a reality show—if those judges were extremely full and occasionally needed to lie down.

First stop: York. A historic city where the roast potatoes have allegedly been perfect since medieval times,   I would also expect exceptional Yorkshire pudding.  (Fun fact, it was originally called "Dripping Pudding", but the modern name of "Yorkshire Pudding" emerged as the dish became associated with the countryside of Yorkshire, where the local cooks were known for perfecting the puffed, crispy version we know today). As I mentioned before, we unfortunately planned our lovely day tour of the Yorkshire Dales on our one Sunday in York.  We saw the locals enjoying their Sunday roasts at our lunch stop, but we didn't have time to actually partake.  The Sunday roast is typically a late LUNCH meal, not a DINNER meal, so I don't think our dinner at the steakhouse in York qualifies...it was tasty, but NOT a proper Sunday roast.

Next up: the Cotswolds. Rolling hills, honey-colored stone cottages, we were anticipating roasts so picturesque they look like they’ve been styled for a magazine. We expected artisanal everything, and locally grown vegetables.  Gary did his research and booked us at the Eight Bells pub for our roast.  This pub was established in the 14th century, to house the stonemasons who built the neighboring St. James Church.  The pub/inn got its name by later being used to store the eight bells that were hung in the church tower. In the 17th century it was rebuilt using most of the original stone and timbers...it is now pub and dining room downstairs, and 6 bedrooms upstairs.

Well, here is the report on Sunday roast at The Eight Bells in Chipping Campden.  It did NOT disappoint!! We didn't take any photos in the pub as it seemed too intrusive to start snapping away while people all around were eating, but here are some photos off their website, just so you can see the delightful environment. 

We sat in this room, at the table in front of the window on the right.  Both this room and the room pictured below were totally full, with lots of chatter and tons of laughter in the room (and several dogs, lying patiently under tables...perhaps my favorite part!).  The vibe was perfect.  Lots of locals, many walkers (complete with walking poles, hiking boots, and dogs in tow), and a fair share of tourists, all enjoying our Sunday roasts together.

Our meal was great; we both opted for the beef - and we were both pleased with our decision! It was a layered masterpiece!

We got roasties and mashed potatoes, carrots and parsnips, a bit of cabbage (I'm not sure why?!), 3 slices of beef, and loads of delicious gravy!  And I got the added benefit of Yorkshire pudding.  My mom made Yorkshire pudding frequently when I was growing up and I always loved it.  I haven had it in years, and it was a lovely trip down memory lane to soak up my gravy with some perfect Yorkshire pudding (especially on Mother's Day)!

We usually like our meat more rare than this, but seriously, this was tender, juicy and absolutely delicious!!  The Brits can definitely cook a roast!!

As full as I was after lunch, I couldn't resist dessert!  I thought I was going to get sticky toffee pudding, but then I saw this on the menu and had to get it: rose scented pana cotta, with raspberry gelèe, and fresh berry coulis...that is a dessert right up my alley!  Truly the perfect ending to this wonderful meal!

When I saw this on the wall, I knew we had chosen the right place to experience our first proper Sunday roast!

We walked back to our cottage after our meal, and I did this:

while Gary did this!

This seemed like the perfect evening to try out our fireplace!  We watched "Curiously Bright Creatures" on tv/Netflix (which I highly recommend!).

It was a perfect day!

PS: stay tuned for chapter 2 of our Sunday roast taste test...we will have 2 chances in London!