Twelve years after its first review, the Camberwell Arms is still giving people what they want

Twelve years ago, Germany were busy winning the World Cup, Scotland voted no to independence, and the phrase “Topjaw” would likely have been assumed to designate a medical issue. Since that declaration, the Camberwell Arms’ status has changed. It is no longer an up-and-comer but a favourite among locals, even a destination to some, and a mainstay on the “best roasts in London” aggregations (I don’t condone roasts outside of the home usually because I don’t like being ripped off for crap potatoes, but I will make a happy exception for the Camberwell Arms where there is usually some sort of medieval-style pie on offer). The Camberwell ArmsJW HowardThe pub’s approach — butchery and charcuterie are frequently done in-house — also means it’s a respected training ground for talented young chefs: Sam Andrews of the Waterman’s Arms, Holly Middleton-Joseph of Hausu and George Brown of Gorka have all passed through its kitchen. The Camberwell Arms is trusted, basically. The mantra “All’s well” is still on the top of each menu. But is it still an exciting place to dine? Well, I love getting my own way, so I went to find out. We arrived at a full dining room on a humid Saturday evening. The crowd was largely couples, clusters of friends, a family group wherein someone’s parents were meeting her boyfriend for the first time (this is a good place to do that: plenty of nice wine for the nerves, but your dad can have steak and chips, so won’t be weird) and a very civilised hen party. I can only hope they piled into a limo full of oiled-up strippers after behaving so angelically at dinner.Bread and pork fat pleases the little Henry VIII in all of usWe settled in with a pair of the obligatory toasts: beer onions and a slice of paint-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls Comté on one, pork fat and chunks of Scotch bonnet on the other. To review this place without mentioning them would be like talking about Celebrity Big Brother and not saying “David’s dead”: these are the only two items which always remain on the menu, and for good reason. I hardly need to say that a piece of bread slathered in pork fat pleases the little Henry VIII who sits at the heart (or stomach) of every restaurant-goer, though the pepper pairing is clever, adding some verve amid the sheer gout. The other toast is the foil to the spice, packing the immediately comforting hit of French onion soup, which landed even on a sticky summer’s night. Food at the Camberwell Arms.Starters like carosello cucumbers with tahini and a knockout peach and mozzarella salad (truly, if it ain’t broke) showcase a menu that privileges the constantly-bobbing carousel of seasonal produce. But for their signature sharing mains, the kitchen is savvy enough to know that it is straightforward, well-executed dishes — like the half-a-roast-chicken, chips and aioli that we ordered — that always satisfy.Food at the Camberwell ArmsJohn DoryThe bird came out glistening like one of those strippers I conjured earlier owing to a Calabrian chilli and honey glaze. I’d have liked more moisture out of the meat and more welly from the sauce, but nothing stopped me swirling endless crisp-then-pillowy chips around in the latter enthusiastically. Our pudding of honey mousse, Graham cracker and strawberries was, frankly, virtuosic. Strawberries in July speak for themselves: I feel like I’m hearing Pavarotti hit The Note in Nessun Dorma every time I bite into one, and this dessert — the rye-like depth of the biscuit, the mousse’s simple sweetness — felt as though it had been engineered to spotlight exactly that. We left full and well-fuelled. The “giving people what they want” mantra bestowed upon the pub in this paper over a decade ago remains true. What I always want is accessible food cooked properly, beautiful ingredients treated uncomplicatedly — and, obviously, chicken and chips. Twelve years on, then, all’s well indeed.Sherry Joe: “What a bloody good evening that was. Thank you to @thecamberwellarms for hosting and to everyone who pulled up. You made it a party!”Foodie From Gib: “We had to try the famous Scotch bonnet pork fat toast, a focaccia like bread smothered in a rich thick layer of pork fat and draped with a sharp & sweet Scotch pepper… sublime.”Jmomogram: “I’ve become re-obsessed with this dish @thecamberwellarms — Scotch bonnet pork fat on toast. Pretty much the perfect balance of sweet, salty, spicy and crunchy.”