I have history with Fullers, all the way back to when I moved to London and used to drink in the pubs attached to their brewery down in Chiswick. Most of my diaspora seemed to live in those parts. When I lived in New York City their North American rep was my best mate in the city. I always thought Sam had the best job in the world. We lost touch when I moved back to the UK but he then reappeared as the co-founder of Sipsminths, who arguably started the current gin explosion.



Gradually Fullers moved away from brewing, selling their brewery and brands such as London Pride to a Japanese company a couple of years ago to focus on their pub estate.

For someone who loves a pub, in Reading they are unavoidable, whether it's when catching a train at The Three Guineas or in the now rebranded pub-next-door-to-me, the hostilery formerly known as Bel & The Dragon and now rebranded The Narrowboat.

But on a bright warmish Sunday morning in deep Autumn my wife and I fancied an excursion further afield, and so it was to The Bull in Sonning we drove with walking boots on. The river was a bit high for the hike. Oh, and the council had closed the path out of Reading once again.

After a wander down to Shiplake, worrying that the ever rising water from a recent storm may result in a swim back upstream (although given the force of the tide, Henley would seem to be a more likely egress point), we turned into The Bull for a pre-booked late Sunday lunch.

Once more, I have history with The Bull. When we lived in London it was a go to place for a weekend away without going too far.

Most of you will be familiar with the loveliness that is Sonning, bedevilled by having one of the few bridges over the Thames for miles, and hence a traffic hellhole of ancient and very pricey properties, bedecked in climbing roses and wisteria, that is home to the likes of Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page, George Clooney and ex-PM Theresa May. Uri Geller disappeared from his mansion some time ago (although there were rumours for a while that the house was to be bought by Taylor Swift).

It also has a local artist who waggishly attaches things like urinals to the ancient bridge from time to time.

The pub is opposite an old churchyard and has lovely outside seating (in November it was warm enough for some drinkers to avail themselves of these benches). Unfortunately the pub has to have cars parked here since parking is at a premium in Sonning.

The village is Midsomer Murders-petfect, with a village store, a village hall, a posh restaurant called the French Horn, a Coppa Club (with parking), and The Bull. Oh, and there's the lovely, excellent Mill at Sonning, a dinner theatre with a nice bar.

If you lived here, and had Waitrose delivering, I can't see why you would ever leave. Indeed, with the traffic situation being what it is, this is difficult to do anyway...

I sometimes drram of a retirement running a ferry between Caversham Lock and Reading Station to Sonning Lock via Thames Valley Park - but perhaps I over-sentimentalise Deacon Blue's Dignity.

Anyhow, back to the food.

Well, Sunday lunch. The ultimate battleground for British pubs. Muddy Stilletoes recently named the three best places for this iconic meal in Berkshire, and none are anywhere near Reading.

Edible Reading and my neighbour Liz swear by The Lyndhurst and they both know what they're talking about. That is scope for a future review.

Like a good British breakfast, the formula for a Sunday Lunch is pretty fixed, so let's go through the checklist at The Bull.



The Beef - yes you can have a nut roast, or chicken or pork, but they just don't count. And, unless you're veggie, you will end up with food envy. I presume that The Bull, like other local Fuller's, source their meat from Owtons, a great butchers. This was block prepped but had been well hung and was melt in the mouth, perhaps a little too well done for my wife, who is French and likes her beef still mooing a bit...

The Yorkshires - hmm disappointing. Mine was cold and a tad hard, but it was nearly 3pm and I presume they had been prepped earlier in the day and re-heated. I left mine largely uneaten.

The Roasties - the problem all over the land is that if you turn up too early you get Roasties that are not well enough cooked, but by the time we arrived these were dark and unctuous, albeit a bit soft, but sweet and delicious. Selecting a sweet and waxy potato is the way to go, not the floury and tasteless varieties.

The Veg - hisbi cabbage in butter, glorious and crunchy but soft. Lovely. Obviously, the parsnips and carrots need some time in the oven with butter and honey, which they had, but were going a bit dry by the time they were served.

Gravy - they claim that this is veal gravy - it was pretty good with, hallelujah, a pot on the side. That's an extra ten stars there alone.

Extras - cauliflower cheese in a nice side bowl. I'm not a huge fan but my wife lapped it up, which is all you need to know.

All of this was lapped down with a pint of Japanese London Pride and a half carafe (what a civilised idea that is) of Austrian red - they also have a Lebanese that would have done the trick along the usual Malbecs and Merlots.

A lovely walk on a lovely day followed by a lovely meal in a lovely pub in a lovely village. Yes, I've run out of adjectives... I do believe that they are heading down the river in the direction of Bray where I am sure they will find exultated homes.