I know many a restaurant diner who spends time ahead of their meal out perusing the online menu, ready to make an informed decision.
As a vegetarian, I feel that rather takes the fun out of choosing. Invariably us veggies have only a couple of choices on any menu so it’s not necessary.
As such, I turned up at The Green Man, in Ropsley, without any real sense of what sort of food I was going to be offered.
On arrival, we were warmly greeted by a man, Phil, who I later found out to be the owner. It wasn’t just a cheery hello, but a conversation.
As the designated driver, I was pleased to be offered a variety of soft drinks and opted for Belvoir Farm’s Elderflower Presse. My husband took a pint of Daleside Bitter (3.7%) and we were shown to our seats via a maze of corridors and mini flights of stairs both up and down.
Now was the time to be presented with the menu. It’s vast — there’s specials on a board, steaks listed separately and then there’s a double-sided menu offering traditional pub food, pizzas and burgers and even a threesome.
Yes that’s right.
As a vegetarian I had to decline — the threesome on the menu was a combo of three meat-based burgers. But my eyes went to the vegetarian burger, a homemade offering of beetroot, butternut squash and goat’s cheese.
So many places offer fake meat burgers (who exactly are they for anyway?), that this celebration of vegetables looked a winner.
On Phil’s return he threw a spanner in the works by announcing a vegetarian special of a Wellington made with potatoes, sage Derby and butternut squash. He sold me on it, in his charming manner, pointing out the burger would be here next time I come too — the Wellington may not, a little bit like talking of the second date, before the end of the first.
I chose a brie wedge starter while my husband, opted for the chicken liver and brandy parfait. He chose the slow braised pigs cheeks in real ale from the special board at his main course.
The service was swift. The two triangles of brie were oozy and the cranberry jam they were served with was a perfect compliment. The same sauce accompanied my husband’s parfait and he too — not one to usually bother with table sauces — enjoyed it.
His parfait came with two big doorstops of a bread. Delicate? No. Hearty? You bet it was.
If anything, the brie could have a been a bit hotter, but the salad garnish and dressing was tasty and the lot got finished, although I regretted that later — you’ll see why.
The staff returned to check if all was good and were attentive to our empty glasses. For my next drink I had the Seedlip liquer, but possibly spoiled it by opting for lemonade rather than soda.
Before our evening out, whenever I told anyone I was heading to the The Green Man there was a consensus of a response. “Ooo lovely,” people replied as though auditioning for some Carry On remake.
What I hadn’t been pre-warned of was the size of the portions.
“There’s infinite ham!” I heard as I listened to the couple on the next table discussing the size of her meal. Try as she might the ham was never ending.
These were big portions.
Our table neighbours — who it turned out were from Sleaford and were happy to chat — were at least forewarned, opting to dine at The Green Man on their son’s recommendation and swerving the starters.
For our mains, the food was delightful, the carrots buttery, the red cabbage sweet with a little bit of a crunch but the portions were epic. My vegetarian Wellington, which did include potato, was served on eight potatoes.
The Wellington itself, homemade of course, was a curious green colour on the inside until I was reminded it included sage Derby cheese. The pastry was a masterclass.
My husband chomped his way through the mash mountain and pig cheeks; but was beaten by the quantity of it all — though enjoyed all of what he ate; and was already talking about our next visit — and avoiding starters.
I feel the chefs could have served a slightly smaller amount and knocked a little off the price of each dish. The pig cheeks were £18.95, the Wellington £15.95.
The dining room had several small tables but was never full though I felt there was possibly another room filled with more guests somewhere else.
At all times the staff were attentive, with the owner even coming over to add another fire to the log burner at the side of me.
There was no hard sell on the desserts, thankfully, but the menu for them was on a bottle in the middle of the table and had been making eyes at me since before the brie.
I was able to twice tell the staff we’d need a break before we’d be able to order dessert without it feeling like an imposition. We possibly only ordered them to provide a complete Eat My Words review as we were already stuffed.
By now I also was curious about their sizes too — would this be an ice cream as big as my head?
My husband opted for the creme brulee on the basis “it’s usually a bit lighter” and I doubled-down on my food feast and opted for the chocolate brownie. It was served warm with ice cream and a meringue crumb with strawberries and a sweet fruit coulis.
I ate slowly and was grateful it came with a tea spoon rather than a dessert spoon for this was something that needed to be nibbled. It was homemade and as delicious as I could have hoped for with a good brownie to ice cream ratio.
As we drove home, I had just one thought... how big will that burger be when I come back?
Out of five:
Food: This was good quality food done well with imaginative offerings for us vegetarians. The portions were huge — which may be a bonus for some diners. ****
Drink: There was a good selection and as the designated driver I was pleased with the non-alcoholic choices. The menu boasted an impressive gin selection too. ****
Decor: Country pub with a rabbit warren of rooms. The log burner and fairy lights were a welcome addition. ****
Staff: Owner Phil was brilliant from the moment we walked in and other staff were just as attentive, without being in the way. *****
Price: The whole bill came in at £85.90 for three courses for two people and four drinks. I’d have been happier paying a bit less for a smaller plate of food. ****
