The culinary adventures of some gluten hating girl in London
The Tommyfield is a Kennington gastropub that’s really trying its very best to be all hippity hop hop and happening. It’s the sort of pub that probably goes golfing with its publican friends of a Sunday, dressed in tweed with Hunter wellies on its little pub feet. It probably spends a lot of time telling its golfing pub friends about its contemporary yet classic decor. They’re not interested, but Tommyfield doesn’t care. Tommyfield reckons it’s a pretty cool establishment, it wants them to know. It wants you to know, too.
The decor is so gastropub it hurts. It’s got the rustic chairs that don’t match, because matching furniture is so passe, dahling. It’s got blackboards awash with hilarious jokes, and it’s staffed exclusively by overly familiar members of staff with the exact same hairdo. (You know the one, its designed to look like they just rolled out of bed. They’re not fooling us though. We know it’s taken them ages to look that chilled out. Their heads are covered in lies.) These lying headed waiters take your food order and deliver it with big smiling faces before unashamedly presenting you with an array of condiments in little pots on a slab of wood. This is bad enough, but wait…the wood is engraved with text which is, I fear, in French.
Dodgy decor aside, the Tommyfield serves one of the best Sunday roasts I’ve had in London. The Sunday menu features all the favourites, there’s the humble chicken, the traditional roast beef, the *trying to do something a little bit different* pork belly. There’s no culinary boundaries being pushed, but that’s not what you want on a Sunday, is it? Well it’s not what I want. I want the comfort of a traditional roast dinner. The sort of dinner that makes everything better.
I went for the chicken, for it is a favourite, and I clearly wasn’t feeling overly adventurous that day. What arrived was a delight and a wonder. A tower of roast dinner stood before me, as if challenging me to a duel. It said, “you cannot finish me”. I said, “I’ll jolly well try,” and I did. Chicken was tender and moist, roasted vegetables were caramelised and crunchy and the roast potatoes were just right. The heap of roasted deliciousness was doused in gravy with a side of sweet bread sauce, and I polished it off happily. It was so good I even ate the cabbage, which usually I’d consider to be a complete waste of time.
The roasts are followed by a dessert menu with all the favourites; sticky toffee pudding, chocolate brownies and banoffee pie amongst others.
I just about managed to squeeze in a chocolate brownie, which was rich and chocolatey with just the right amount of squidge. Sweet tooth satisfaction guaranteed.
So if you’re looking for a good roast dinner in London town that won’t bankrupt you, give Tommyfield a go. You’ll be dreaming of it all week long…I was. I still am. It’s brilliant.
185 Kennington Lane