Review of Sunday lunch at Fields Farm Cafe in East Bergholt

Top of the tree, closely followed by a full English, is the Sunday roast. 

I can’t count the hours I’ve sat listening to friends and family lamenting the risible versions they’ve endured over the years. Anaemic potatoes. Veg cooked so long it wouldn’t look out of place in the compost bin. Tough, fibrous meat. The heinous and in some cases unforgettably mean decision to give some diners Yorkshire puddings, leaving others without. I mean, who doesn’t want a Yorkie pud? 

The root of the issue is this. If a roast isn’t as good as your mum’s, your dad’s, your nanna’s, or your partner’s, it will never cut the mustard. 

So rare a beast is the exemplary Sunday lunch that I rarely bother going looking for it. I can think of just one version I’ve eaten in a restaurant in the past two years that’s come close to being better than what my mum or I can routinely cook at home. 

Arriving at Fields Farmshop & Café (in East Bergholt) then, I hadn't got my hopes up. False hope is futile when it comes to Sunday lunch. 

It’s a joyful little spot, Fields. Surrounded by country walks, and with an ever-growing list of furry and feathered creatures waiting to greet customers as they veer down the driveway – the latest being a pair of adorable donkeys, who were being fawned over by a couple of toddlers in pink hazsuit-style waterproofs when we pulled in. 

Parking is plentiful, if a little bumpy (as is the driveway) so don’t wear your best heels.  

Drifting past a display of seasonal veg, luring customers enticingly into the farm shop, we tumbled from the cold into the lofty converted barn dining room, howling wind replaced by the melodious hum of chatter. 

It’s an impressive space, pairing the always-on-trend industrial look with festoons of dried autumnal flowers and grasses for a softer, more feminine finish. 

By the looks of it, Sunday is a must-book affair. Not a single table, bar our waiting Number 4 (apparently the best for sunsets) was empty. 

Families sat on banquet-style tables, keeping babies amused with crayons and iPads. Groups of friends gathered on tables for four. Welly-clad walkers huddled on sofas, warming their hands on cups of coffee, nudging towards the log burner, joined by their doggies- love it or hate it, this place welcomes dogs with open arms and doesn’t expect owners to cower on the terrace in the rain. 

Tables are nicely spaced. Chairs comfortable. The only issue potentially is the acoustics. Those high ceilings mean noise does travel, so those who are hard of hearing or just want a quiet lunch might not find this is the place for them. 

During the week the cafe has become known for its chunky sandwiches brimming with salt beef and sauerkraut or chunky fish fingers. 

Sunday, though, is all about the roast. No distractions. Just beef (£20), pork (£17.50), rotisserie chicken (£18.50) or the vegetarian option (£14) - on this occasion a roast of cashew nuts, spinach, squash and mushroom. 

Neither of us was drinking, but the cafe is licensed and 175ml measures of wine hover around the £6 and under mark which isn’t bad…not bad at all. 

The non-alcoholic list is sizeable, offering anything from a mocha, dirty chai or peppermint tea, to dandelion and burdock, rose lemonade or ginger beer. 

We settled on a couple of low cal San Pellegrinos...always a good choice. 

Our food arrived from the engine room less than 10 minutes after arrival. And if that isn’t an argument for a shorter menu, I don’t know what is. 

Cauliflower cheese came first, the knobbly veg bubbling in a cast iron bay of velvety cheese sauce, strewn with crumbs and fried herbs. 

It was followed by pots of homemade apple sauce (made with bramleys from the farm) and horseradish. 

Then the main event was delivered (on hot plates- yes chef!). 

It isn’t easy to make a roast look pretty, but these dishes had been lovingly composed with an almost rainbow of colours around the plate, every twist and turn of the fork revealing a hidden element. 

Let’s talk about the meat first. My Dedham Vale beef was just blushing in the middle, cooked to satisfy just about every diner – not too pink, not overdone. It had a toothsome, burnished crust, and piled on the flavour. 

Jo said her Dingley Dell pork was the best she’s ever had…and I’m inclined to agree. 

Succulent pork belly had been rendered to near collapse, supported by a sausage meat farce, fat melting decadently into a thin, crunchy layer of skin. Utterly delicious. 

In supporting roles were sticky maple glazed, lightly charred carrots freckled with Nigella seeds, big spoonfuls of cinnamon and anise-scented red cabbage, white cabbage, frilly kale, romanesco and broccoli. 

We had four nigh-perfect roasted potatoes apiece. And though Jo had a slight wobble when she realised the menu didn’t list a Yorkshire pudding with her lunch, we both received a puffy cloud of flavoursome batter, into which we pooled lashings of the real, bone stock gravy.  

Our only teensy tiny gripe was that our greens were on the al dente side, but, quite honestly, we were more than willing to forgive this because everything else was absolutely sublime. 

Just two desserts are chalked up on the Sunday menu but, as I discovered on the way to the loos (spacious, with plenty of changing and disabled facilities and even a water bottle filling station) the cakes are worth investigating if you don’t fancy what’s on offer. 

On our visit there were slabs of winter spiced Bakewell, bulging cinnamon rolls, apple cake, carrot cake and more. 

Going against her protestations of fullness, Jo yielded to a slice of millionaire’s shortbread, which was devilishly moreish - all short and crumbly on the bottom, buttery with caramel in the middle, and slathered in a thick, toothsome layer of dark chocolate. 

My warm sticky toffee pudding, despite being black as stout, proved featherlight in texture, while being flooded with deep treacly notes. I could have gone for a bit more of the sauce – I’m just greedy. 

There was time for a decent flat white and hot chocolate before a stroll around the farm shop, where you can top-up bottles with eco-friendly Fill products (I highly rate their neroli laundry detergent which pervades the house with the most beautiful perfume), or pack your bags with anything from local veg, to gingerbread caramel spread, s’mores kits, candles...or just good old eggs, milk and flour. 

A really impressive spot. And, says Jo, home to the “best pork ever”. 

This week the café's festive tepee has gone up, with opening hours extended there from 3pm to 8pm. Warmed by firepits and blankets, diners can sample Christmas cocktails, speciality hot drinks, mulled wine, and street food, from hot turkey sandwiches and bratwursts to Aspen fries on a first-come first-served basis. 

Bookings are now being taken for the Father Christmas experience (£16 for children and £3 for guardians or parents) including meeting Santa in his cabin, making crafts, letter writing and more). 

For bookings, to find out more about events, or to see the latest opening hours go to fieldskitchen.co.uk