The Anchor Inn
High Street
Burton Bradstock
DT64QF
Jaki booked us Sunday Lunch in the Anchor over the phone.
I had been gagging for a Roast Beef dinner with all the trimmings since I started my Low Carb diet.
Not that I intended to eat the Potatoes but my plan was to fill myself up with meat and veg.
All weekend I had eaten just the meat and some sparse vegetables but every meal had left me hungry and I really needed to have that ‘full feeling’.
I figured a Sunday Roast would hit the spot perfectly.
Jaki had tried to get us into the Three Horse Shoes a pretty little pub that we had walked past on Saturday, but they were fully booked, so she went for the Anchor which had availability.
The Anchor prides itself on it’s Seafood and they did have quite a selection on the menu and on the ‘special’s board’s’ which were displayed outside the pub and in front of the bar. But Jaki was still stuffed to the gills (see what I did there) with fish from the night before, so she didn’t want to eat anymore. And Fish isnt really my thing.
Years ago when we first started going to Mojacar, we visited a little Chiringuito on the Beach at Vera Playa, for lunch. It was very popular with Spaniards who made up all of the customers on this particular day. The menu was in Spanish though it had lots of pictures so we felt reasonably safe ordering, even though our Spanish was non existent at the time.
Jaki was keen for me to try Paella which I had resisted over the years, but on this occasion I agreed to give it a try.
She ordered what she thought was a ‘mixed seafood Paella’ but when it came it was a huge plate full of cooked fish of all different descriptions, most of which looked bloody awful.
They were I think, boiled not fried (which might have made them a bit more palatable) and it included whole Baby squid, some eels and a bunch of other bony fish with their heads and tails still on.
These days I could probably take this in my stride, but at that time I didn’t eat fish of any description excluding Fish Fingers, so to be presented with a mountain of dead fish was overwhelming.
Georgia, who was only young started to cry, Jaki tried her best to find some thing edible amongst the carnage, whilst I went an attractive shade of Green.
We had actually ordered ‘Frutos del Mar’ for three rather than a Fish Paella.
It transpired that the list of Paella dishes ran out half way down the page and other seafood dishes filled the bottom half of the menu page. So the heading was Paella, but the Paella options ended half way down. We had ordered from a completely different section. It was just that they forgot to separate them when they printed the menu.
My other Fish Nightmare came in a place called ‘Peniscola’ where we ate in a fish restaurant by the harbour.
I ordered Red Mullet which turned out to be three ‘Goldfish’ with the heads and tails left on, the skeleton left in situ, but all the flesh sucked off before they were served.
This dish (suitable for conversion by Jesus himself) was served with nothing else on the plate, no sauce, no Potato and no vegetables. It was in fact a pile of fish bones.
Even Rick Stein would have struggle to eat these.
So, I wasn’t tempted by the over priced Lobster or the Surf and Turf.
It was definitely the Sunday Roast for me.
We had spent the morning sat on the beach at Hive where the sun had eventually come out and the England Batsmen at last got to grips with the Aussie bowlers.
There was one parking space left in the car park at the rear of the Pub which we managed to squeeze into. From the outside the Pub looked quite pleasant so I was disappointed when we got inside and found it to be a bit neglected.
I had imagined it would be a pretty little pub with a cosy bar and a rather attractive (in an olde worlde way) restaurant area full of ships lanterns and sea faring memorabilia. It was in fact a bit run down, slightly down at heel and a bit vacuous.
Our table was in a rather soulless area of the pub between a blocked off front door, another eating area and the toilets.
However, the worst shock was yet to come.
When we looked at the menu’s they had a range of Pub Fare, some interesting Sea food but not a mention of a Sunday Roast.
It seem’s we picked one of the only Pubs in the whole of Dorset that didn’t serve a Sunday lunch.
I was bitterly disappointed as was Jaki but it was too late to get up and leave, we already had drinks and the chances of getting anywhere else to eat seemed slim.
Though when we got back to our hotel later we found they were serving Sunday Lunch until 10pm.
So we made he best of it .
Jaki went for a Meat Pie (£15.95) that looked a lot like a large tan leather brief case with mashed Potato and Peas. The pie was packed with meat and the Mash was creamy, so she was happy with her choice.
I went for an old favourite (£19) Horseshoe Gammon steak (though quite what the horse shoe had to do with it I dont know, I guess its the shape) which came with ‘lightly spiced potato wedges’ (which I left untouched) Pineapple rings, from a tin and a Salad.
The Gammon was tasty, well scorched and tender though the Salad was a complete waste of space.
Limp, soggy lettuce with a few halved tomatoes, this salad was an afterthought and it added nothing.
So we ate up, declined a desert or Coffee and left.
The whole experience was a waste of time and money. £40.05
The pie was a good meal and if it had been priced at £10 it would have deserved praise but at nearly £16, come on.
Pie and Mash, 16 pounds. Really?
The Venue was very disappointing, the seating area had nothing going for it at all.
The food was well cooked, well presented but tinned pineapple and a limp salad, is that really the best they can offer. Why not Peas and an egg?
Even the Soda and Lime was expensive with the soda costing £1.35 (for a half pint) and 75p for the dash of Lime.
My Tomato juice cost me £3.
I guess we should have done our home work before booking and not assumed that all pubs would offer a Sunday Roast, so its our fault we got it so wrong.
The Parlour Cafe and Restaurant.
When we left we decided to back track and visit a place called The Parlour Cafe and Restaurant which was sign posted off the B3157.
We didn’t really know what to expect, I assumed it was a farm shop as it also said on the sign there was fresh Cider for sale.
So we were pleasantly surprised when we turned into Bredy Farm gate and saw the restaurant area lit with fairy lights and full of people.
We parked the car overlooking the beautiful Dorset countryside and were tempted to sit there and listen to the last over’s of the cricket, but the appeal of the Cafe got the better of us.
As we walked across the car park, past an overgrown herb garden and some old Poly tunnels surrounded by agricultural memorabilia we approached some large wooden doors, beyond which we could see a courtyard with outdoor seating.
This area was partly over grown by vines which offered welcomed shade from the Sun which was now fiercely hot.
People were sat on the wooden benches drinking Cider and listening to the music from speakers fixed to the walls of the surrounding buildings whilst their dogs introduced themselves to each other.
We followed the ‘Entrance’ sign and found ourselves inside what used to be a Barn where a bar had been built at one end and a stage at the other. In between were some long bench tables where a group of young people were drinking.
Through the barn there was yet another area which was an indoor eating area. It was full with people eating and drinking like some medieval banquet.
To our left, screened off by a shoulder high partition was the kitchen where staff were working in the searing heat, turning out some of the most delicious Sunday Lunches I have seen for ages, each plate was piled with veg, then thick slices of Meat were balance on the top and drenched in gravy.
In another corner was a Pizza oven and many of the younger customers were eating delicious looking Pizza washed down with Beer or Cider.
This was a whole new ball game. The atmosphere was buzzing, the venue was eclectic, exciting, very rustic but comfortable and it had an identity which went with the food.
Simple, gregarious, noisy yet completely appealing.
Oh how I wish we had found that place before wasting our money at the Anchor.
Back at the car the cricket was in its dying stages so we sat and listened as the England Batsmen salvage a victory and kept the Ashes alive.
Back at the Hotel we slept for an hour and then realised we had a whole evening to fill without anything much to do.
We had already eaten. We could go out for a drink but a lot of the local Pubs had shut down at that time on a Sunday and besides, I was still struggling to swallow more than a couple of halves. My Drinking days seem to be numbered?
I felt very much like we had over stayed our welcome and it might have been better to have set out for home on the evening rather than have to hang around till the morning when we would be forced to eat yet another Hotel Breakfast.
So we wandered up the high street and had a drink in an almost deserted pub (by now only the die hard piss-heads were still drinking) before deciding it was probably jus as good sat in the bar in our Hotel.
Which it actually wasn’t, there was a sort of hang over atmosphere there too.
The staff seemed a bit grumpy, and the customers too were somewhat touchy.
Whilst we were supping our last drink I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to eat.
The weekends restrictions had caught up with me and I decided to head down to the Chinese take away to get some food.
I ordered a Chicken Chow Mein with a tub of Curry Sauce and took it back to our room where Jaki ate half, despite saying she didn’t want anything more to eat.
Washed down with a cup of Tea, this was undoubtedly the best meal I had eaten all week end.
And the Cheapest!
Though I doubt it did much for my Carbohydrate intake it sure made me feel better!
In search of a great Breakfast 