After a long, stressful week, there’s nothing quite like a slow Sunday—the kind where rain taps against the window, and a proper roast dinner feels like the only answer. A quick scroll through social media led me to a highly rated gem just around the corner from Camden—The Parakeet pub.

Tucked away in Kentish Town, this beautifully restored gastropub is helmed by head chef Ben Allen and sous-chef Ed Jennings, both alumni of the Michelin-starred Brat. Known for its intimate dining space and refined, European-inspired cuisine, The Parakeet takes a bold approach to Sundays with a carefully curated roast menu, where meats are slow-cooked over an open wood fire.

First Impressions of The Parakeet

Streetside view of The Parakeet

'Vintage charm' of the Parakeet's dining room

Walking down Kentish Town Road, The Parakeet’s green brickwork and gold lettering stood out instantly. Inspired by the parakeets of Hampstead Heath, the pub had a lively buzz inside—locals with midday pints and plenty of friendly faces. Like a pair of lemons, we awkwardly lingered at the door, waiting to be seated, only to be politely redirected towards the dining area at the back.

The restaurant, seating just 60, has a vintage charm with its stained-glass light, wooden panelling, and leather banquettes. The warm welcome from the staff only added to the inviting atmosphere. If online booking sites show it’s full, don’t worry—they keep tables for walk-ins, and arriving early boosts your chances.

We lucked out with a table by the pass, getting a front-row view of dishes leaving the kitchen and the impressive wood oven setup. However, fair warning: if you sit here, you’ll walk out smelling like you spent the afternoon manning the grill. If you’ve got breathing sensitivities, it might not be the best spot—maybe bring a bottle of aftershave/perfume or an inhaler, just in case!

The Roast Menu

Sundays at The Parakeet pub are devoted entirely to roast dinners—a huge plus in my book. With no distractions from an extensive menu, the kitchen can focus on perfecting one of Britain’s most beloved meals. Each cut of meat is first grilled over wood for that signature charring before being carved and finished in a large wood-fired oven—similar to those used for Neapolitan pizzas, ensuring a deep, smoky flavour in every bite.

On offer is the enticing hay-smoked chicken (£25.5) and, for the plant-based crowd, an equally tempting celeriac wellington (£20). For those dining in groups—or simply feeling indulgent—there are two impressive sharing options: a whole roasted sea bream (£58) and the viral 800g roasted sirloin (£90), which looks like a showstopper.

We, however, stuck to the more traditional options: the topside of beef (£26.5) and the rump of lamb (£26.5). Both are served medium rare by default, but if the sight of pink makes you uneasy, the kitchen is happy to cook it to your preference—even if that means cremating it. The beef, sliced thin and draped delicately over the plate, had a beautifully pink centre with a charred edge that hinted at the wood-fired grill. A major plus was the quality of the cut—barely any gristle, just tender, flavour-packed meat with none of that dreaded rubbery chew.

But the real star of the show? The lamb. Four thick, perfectly cooked slices arrived with delicate pockets of fat glistening on the surface. At a glance, you could mistake it for sirloin, but one bite confirmed otherwise. What set this dish apart was the masterful use of salt—it didn’t overwhelm but subtly elevated the already rich, gamey lamb flavour. Each mouthful was a joy, with the quality of the meat shining through, and the portion size felt more than fair. I’d go as far as to say it’s one of the best lamb roasts I’ve ever had.

The Trimmings

As any roast enthusiast knows, the meat might take centre stage, but the supporting cast can make or break the experience. If the Parakeet’s roast was a band, it would be The Beatles—three absolute superstars and one slightly weaker link, which, let’s be honest, is still pretty integral (sorry, Ringo).

If the meat is Paul—complex, well-executed, and the star attraction—then the carbs are undoubtedly John, playing an arguably more crucial role. Nothing ruins a roast faster than disappointing potatoes, and I’ve lost count of how many pubs try to pass off deep-fried spuds as roasties. Thankfully, The Parakeet gets it right. These were proper roast potatoes—golden, crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, with clear signs of seasoning and herbs. If I were to be picky, they could have done with an extra stint in the oven for a darker hue and a bit more crunch, but that’s just fine-tuning.

The Yorkshire pudding was another winner, boasting an actual depth of flavour rather than just being a token presence on the plate. There was a distinct meatiness in the batter—most likely from beef fat—which added richness. Too often, Yorkshire puds feel like bland mascots rather than contributing players, but here, it held its own with a crisp shell and a satisfying chew.

The vegetables in this equation are certainly George Harrison. They might not be the first thing you notice, but they grow on you with every bite. The swede had been cooked in the oven alongside the other veg, creating caramelised nuggets of natural sweetness. The carrots, roasted to soft perfection, retained just enough bite to avoid feeling mushy. But the real surprise? The collard greens. Buttery, slightly bitter, and utterly addictive, they were the unexpected MVP of the side dishes. Even my girlfriend—a die-hard carnivore with a deep-rooted distrust of anything leafy—found herself going back for more.

And now, the gravy—our Ringo Starr. Essential to the band, full of character, but ultimately the weakest link. While the flavour was spot-on, the consistency was a letdown—far too thin, almost washing off the meat and veg instead of coating them. It felt more like an elevated Bovril, the kind you’d want to sip rather than pour over your meal. A real shame because with just a little thickening, it could have been the perfect final touch.

Extra Orders

To start, there’s a small but tempting selection, including house pickles, oysters with seaweed and apple, and cod roe with crudités. We went for the smoked mackerel with potato bread, intending to share. The mackerel itself was creamy, its bold, briny richness balanced by fresh dill. However, the portion was simply too generous—the bread-to-pâté ratio was wildly off. I hate complaining about generous portions but this dish left us taking oversized forkfuls once we ran out of carbs to spread it on.

By the end of the meal, our stomachs were full, and our top buttons were feeling the strain. But when our server raved about the sticky toffee pudding, resistance was futile. And rightly so—this was the ideal finale. Arriving warm, with a caramelised crust that gave way to a rich, sticky interior, it was indulgence at its finest. he vanilla ice cream melted instantly, blending with the toffee sauce to create a velvety pool of sweetness.

Final Verdict: Is It the Best Lamb Roast in London?

Despite the slight misstep with the gravy, The Parakeet pub delivers a seriously impressive Sunday roast. Some potentially might flinch at the slightly high price point but the quality of the meat justifies it. The lamb is exceptional, the trimmings are well-executed, and the kitchen’s dedication to wood-fired cooking adds an undeniable depth of flavour. While the viral sirloin sharer may have stolen social media’s attention, the real winner was right in front of me—one of the best lamb roasts in London.

Key Information

• Address: The Parakeet, 256 Kentish Town Rd, London NW5 2AA

• Website: theparakeetpub.com

• Starters: £4-£7.50

• Roasts: £20-£26.5

• Desserts: £5.50-£8

• Insider Tip: Try to book in advance, but if it's full, arrive early to snag a walk-in spot