“The smell of roasting pork folds round the garden, and no doubt slips down the road too, like an aromatic invitation.” Tess Allingham
The Bull had languished, empty of life, let alone parties, on the crossroads in Troston for nearly three years. “But now it’s a nucleus of laughter,” says Sam. He laughs – he and Ben do that a lot. “Muddy boots and champagne flutes,” he says later on, adopting another’s phrase to describe their aim to appeal to drinkers and diners alike. They still “do things properly” but in a youthful, easy way (Ben’s in his mid-30s, Sam a decade younger). It works: the team are just as at ease with out-to-lunch guests arriving smart for a three-course meal and a catch-up, loosened by a bottle of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and then whiskies, as they are at the bar pulling pints, selling crisps and sharing party stories.
“We’ve been so lucky,” says Sam. “The village has wrapped us in a protective blanket.” Residents have become regulars, so too personnel from the Honington RAF base a mile away. Local farmers have helped haul away fallen trees (they also provided the bales for the party) and, in time-honoured village tradition, people bring garden gluts – courgettes, currants, apples – to the kitchen door. “We swap favours for Aspalls!” says Ben. “We feel part of the community and I love that the pub is connecting people. One regular has even bought a house in Troston because of us. Came for a burger, bought a house.”
A straightforward menu of five starters, mains and puddings changes daily with head chef John Parker – he’s just 25 – running the kitchen. As long as there’s always a form of fish and chips, a steak (maybe a flatiron, or a sirloin to share served with everything you’d expect), a Bull Burger in its milk bun, and a cheeseboard, the menu is up to John and his team.
Asparagus, slender spears of purple and green varieties, receive the lightest of grills. White asparagus is peeled into curling ribbons. There are slivers of savoury gran padano cheese and a peppy balsamic vinegar. A confit egg yolk is plumply golden, ripe for asparagus or pieces of a Rascality Roll to be swooped through it (John uses house-brewed Rascality Brewing beer in some of his loaves). Chicken and guinea fowl terrine is seriously meaty, but it’s John’s rye toast, sweet-sharp chutney and bitter red chicory leaves that layer the dish with flavour. The same goes for the tenderly cooked wild bass that’s bolstered by the chilli-paprika heft of chorizo and patatas bravas. It’s generous in portion, generous in flavour. Smokey aubergine is roasted down to fleshy softness and comes with orzo pasta, a classic sofrito and charred peppers; it absorbs the flavours hungrily, as aubergine does…
Click here to read the full article by Tess Allingham on greatbritishlife.co.uk
