When I first heard about The Unruly Pig – which I had to assure my friends and family was not in fact named after me – I was filled with some pretty high expectations.
Located in Bromeswell, Suffolk, it is, according to Estrella’s Top 50 Gastropubs list, the number one in the UK. As much as I like to go into a meal with a blank slate, or tabula rasa for my fellow philosophy grads, it’s hard to ignore such accolades.
The Unruly Pig itself has really nailed what it means to be a gastropub, a restaurant-like feel, but still retaining its essential “pubbiness”: exposed beams, dark walls, a crackling fireplace, Persian rugs and artwork I’d like to hang in my own home (such as Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper – except it’s Tony Soprano and his disciples).
There’s à la carte for starter-and-main purists, as well as a tasting menu, “Be Unruly”, which costs £75 per person. They’re more than happy to adapt this for any dietaries which they did for my mum, sin gluten.
And don’t forget the wine; there are more than 60 available by the glass. Luckily, we didn’t feel overwhelmed for long as our fantastic waiter offered to pick out different ones for different courses, and he really knew his stuff.
I’d recently visited Mersea and sampled their glorious local oysters, so I know full well they are up there with the best. I hadn’t, however, tried a deep-fried Mersea oyster. Or any deep-fried oyster for that matter. They arrive on their shells, having been coated in a chicken-shop-esque crumb, one doused in a fantastically tangy XO sauce, another with dill, smoked cucumber and caviar. They’re both bites I have to close my eyes and chew slowly to really make the most of – something I do end up doing a lot throughout this meal – hot, battered, then bursting with the flavour of the sea, they’re a sign of all the brilliant things to come.
Amid some delightful whipped butters, pillowy focaccia, a teensy ’nduja and taleggio arancino and a smoked cod’s row tartlet (tick, tick, tick, tick), there’s a chicken liver parfait with triangles of crisped, salty shards of chicken skin sat atop. Two of my favourite things combined in a format I didn’t even know was allowed; I started to feel seen and understood in a way no establishment had made me feel before.
It’s hard to pick a firm favourite of the larger dishes; how I imagine it’d be to pick a favourite child. But the wild bass arrives like an actual work of art. A beetroot puree or gel of sorts magically encircles the fish, which is as crispy as it humanly could be without being burnt (ie perfection) and a crunchy little morsel they call a fritelle di patate (imagine a hash brown with no sog, just pure texture). It’s swimming in a smoked cucumber and roe butter sauce. I’m pretty sure I didn’t say a word during this one and just let the flavours carry me away.
It’d be wrong not to mention the lamb rump – pink, fatty, with a lamb and rosemary dressing – or the chalk stream trout – zingy, citrussy, with a hit of chili heat. All I can really say is that this meal reached into my soul, found my favourites, made them exceptional, and then let me eat them.
The owner Brendan comes over and chats at some point and is as vivacious and charming as the food. He worked in law for more than 35 years before opening the Pig and oozes passion, which you can tell plays a large part in why this place works so well. That and chef Dave Wall’s impeccable, precise cooking (formerly Bibendum, Gordon Ramsay’s Boxwood Café, Claridges and Le Talbooth).
The menu is changed at least monthly, but don’t worry, I think the parfait is a mainstay – this is more of a reassuring note to self for when I inevitably return.
It’s all finished off with a delightful palate-cleansing semifreddo with lemon sorbet, then a chocolate hazelnut tart with blackberry, while my mum gets a gluten-free earl grey pannacotta with jammy, syrupy figs. Need I say they were all divine? If this all sounds like a lot of food, that’s because it was, but it’s paced over several hours and you can just about fit it all in.
My high expectations were, in the end, surpassed. I just hadn’t really considered that pub food could be this good. And given how much this menu felt like it was tailored to me, I’d be more than happy to be known as an unruly pig, henceforth.
The Unruly Pig, Orford Rd, Bromeswell, Woodbridge, IP12 2PU | 01394 460310 | theunrulypig.co.uk
