Review of The Crazy Goose
If you’re a little confused about The Crazy Goose, then I can thoroughly understand why, writes Nick Mosley.
Launched at the start of the year as a British pub, it didn’t quite hit the mark with consumers. Which is a bit weird when the venue is operated by the Brighton-based Black Rock restaurant group, which is pretty spot-on with its restaurant concepts, including The Salt Room, Burnt Orange, Tutto and The Coal Shed.
Firstly, despite being pitched as a pub, it had more European bistro vibes to it. There’s something quintessential about the look and feel of a British pub – even the swankiest gastropub – and The Crazy Goose didn’t quite have it.
Secondly, the food and drink – despite being thoroughly inspired by English pub classics – were perhaps a little too finessed and a tad higher in price than your average punter might’ve expected.
Which was a shame, as I have to say the launch menu was excellent – and they also made a pretty mean martini, which is something I wouldn’t be asking for in any pub in Brighton. I have to say I ordered the lemon sole meunière on every visit, and it was the best I’ve eaten in the city, as well as being generous for the price. The daily pies were popular, and hands down, the most memorable dish I’ve eaten anywhere this year was the roasted scallops with pancetta and chorizo. I’ve been trying to find an equal to match the perfection of the scallops, and I’ve yet to taste anything even close.
Anyway, I digress. Early last month, I heard on the grapevine that the pub theme had – shall we say – been quietly retired and the kitchen had moved more into Black Rock’s comfort zone of… drum roll… small plates for sharing. To be honest, my heart sank a little.
I have mixed feelings about small plates. They’re obviously an easy way to sample a few dishes, but they come with an unspoken caveat that anyone at the table feels free to stick their fork in and ‘have a little taste’. I also find that they can soon add up compared with a two-course restaurant meal.
I thought, who better to invite to join me for a natter and nosh than my friend Andrew, who’s been professionally munching his way around Brighton for more years than even me. Thankfully, he also has exquisite table etiquette and equity.
To start, a glass of house wine for Andrew – a very well-priced £7.50 for a 175ml measure – and, for me, my customary dry gin martini. The menu is split into bites, small plates and skewers, alongside a selection of sides. There’s a wide price range, starting at £3.50 for a generous bowl of very tasty and tangy seasonal house pickles with crunch, up to £14 for some of the small plates.
As this was lunchtime, we weren’t there to gorge ourselves senseless, so we both ordered three dishes.
Andrew was keen to try the flatbread sizzled with sesame brown butter and the chickpea hummus with miso onions and coconut yoghurt. However, with my current aversion to gluten and soya, I couldn’t sample either. However, they smelled dreamy and were munched with Andrew’s usual gusto.
I had no complaints about the taste of the sticky lamb ribs seasoned with Levantine spices and a tart yet sweet fermented apricot sauce, although, at £12, I thought serving only two on the plate was a bit stingy. Unfortunately – for me, at least – my rib had the thinnest strip of meat on it, whilst Andrew merrily masticated on his mutton. You’ve gotta take the hard knocks in this job.
Halloumi drenched with honey is one of my all-time favourites, but it’s got to be on the right side of salty and squeaky. This most definitely was, and I loved the twist of curry leaves that added an unexpected elevation to the dish.
The moist chicken thigh skewer, with a sauce of green chilli, lime and coriander, was perfectly cooked and – again – demonstrated considered creativity in the kitchen.
And so to dessert. At least at lunchtime, there’s only one pud on the menu to be had, and it’s the house soft-serve ice cream of the day, which, whilst being very retro, doesn’t exactly scream sophistication. How wrong we were! This was absolutely amazing – packed with pistachio, Turkish delight and rose petals. I’ll be back for this dish alone.
Now, I should add that since my last visit, a press release landed in my inbox informing me that the focus of the menu has changed somewhat once again to rotisserie chicken, so I wouldn’t rely on all of the dishes Andrew and I experienced being on the menu.
I always feel a bit rushed in Black Rock’s neighbouring Burnt Orange restaurant – it’s always elbow-to-elbow, with a queue out of the door – so I’m inclined to recommend The Crazy Goose over that venue for the same level of cooking and a similar menu offering.
Although The Crazy Goose has struggled to find its niche, there’s no doubt in my mind that the food and service are both thoroughly enjoyable, and this venue is definitely finding its feet amongst the better restaurants in the city.
The Crazy Goose, 8 Boyce’s Street, Brighton BN1 1AN
01273 929 079 • www.thecrazygoose.co.uk
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