There’s something deliciously naughty about escaping to the countryside for the night. No kids, no chores, no spreadsheets; just good food, comfy sheets, and a whole lot of wine. We found exactly that and more, at The Jolly Sportsman in East Chiltington, just outside Lewes. Recently crowned Best Sussex Pub in the BRAVOS (well deserved, might I add), this hideaway is equal parts refined and rustic, a winning blend of sophistication and muddy-boots charm.
Think leafy nooks, ancient trees with twisty personalities, and bees bumbling between wildflowers while you sip sparkling wine under the Sussex sun. Romantic? Very. Family-friendly? Also yes. Somehow, this place manages to juggle both vibes without missing a beat. A great wedding venue? Absolutely. We’ve mentally pencilled it in for an anniversary vow renewal involving dogs, cheese, and questionable dance moves.
A Hug in Pub Form
Our welcome was served with a side of sparkle by Tanya, landlady, hostess, and full-time purveyor of heartfelt hospitality. Since taking the reins last September, she’s poured love into every corner of this countryside gem. You feel it instantly. Locals get greeted by name, visitors get greeted like locals, and everyone’s treated like they might be famous.
The garden is a dreamscape. Dappled light flickers through ancient branches as you meander between tables, glasses clinking, flowers swaying, and dogs politely sniffing each other. Magic.
Bloody Mary, Full of Grace
We kicked things off with a gin Bloody Mary that honestly deserves its own fan page. A punchy, peppery, perfectly balanced concoction with sweet, sticky dehydrated tomatoes and a zesty slice of blood orange strutting across the rim like it owned the glass. I’m fussy about my Bloodys, and this one had me weeping with joy. Almost.
To chase that down, we tried the Artelium Sparkling White, which danced across our tongues with apple-crisp elegance. It was like drinking laughter. (Sussex does sparkling wine better than most of France, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.)
And don’t worry we weren’t driving. We booked a luxury room upstairs. That meant a guilt-free evening of indulgence followed by a faceplant into Egyptian cotton sheets, snuggling into cloudlike pillows and pretending we were rockstars.
Dinner Fit for a Greedy Queen
The menu here doesn’t muck about. It’s concise, confident, and full of surprises. We kicked off with six oysters so fresh they practically whispered sea shanties, accompanied by delicate pickled shallot vinegar and cracked pepper. I half expected a mermaid to emerge with a salt shaker.
Then came a parade of technicolour wonder:
- Sticky beetroot, kale, goat’s curd & chicory salad with crunchy seeds – an earthy, tangy, moreish explosion of textures.
- Lamb cigar with preserved lemon aioli, raisins and shallots – an exotic, warming hug of a dish, crisp and deeply spiced.
- Charred asparagus with crispy Serrano, poached egg, and golden hollandaise – spring on a plate with a cheeky wink.
But the star? The 10oz ribeye steak. Chargrilled, glistening, and smothered in herby, smoky, chimichurri. Flanked by blistered vine tomatoes, woodland mushrooms, and a riot of garden-fresh leaves. It felt sacrilegious not to finish every bite. We did it justice.
Tanya suggested a bottle of Artelium Pinot Noir to pair – and she nailed it. Light-footed but deep, fruity yet structured, this locally made beauty brought out every flavour in our feast. (Artelium is a boutique East Sussex winery known for its minimal-intervention approach and knockout terroir wines – check them out here).
Dessert… But Make It a Spectacle
We weren’t done. Oh no. Dessert was a triumphant dark chocolate & Cuckfield coffee mousse cake, topped with candied macadamia nuts and a scoop of blood orange sorbet – so zingy it practically sang. We took our sweet course up to our terrace (yes, our terrace), where we sipped sparkling rosé under the stars and felt smug enough to consider starting a food blog called “People Who Eat Like Kings Then Nap.”
Also: the cheese board. Sussex brie, blue, and a hard cheese with attitude, flanked by vibrant crackers (including heart-shaped ones, because why not), sticky membrillo, and walnuts that tasted like they’d been kissed by caramel.
One Last Hug (in Breakfast Form)
The next morning, we lazily emerged from our super king slumber cocoon to a breakfast order we’d placed the night before (sustainability creds: tick). I opted for the Full English, because sausages. And it did not disappoint. Meaty, savoury, impeccably seasoned, and no grease in sight. Matt had the eggs benedict, and I can confirm: yolks like sunset gold, ham like silk, and hollandaise that didn’t skimp on the butter. A breakfast that made you want to stay for lunch.
Final Thoughts (Before We Cried in the Car)
The Jolly Sportsman isn’t just a pub. It’s a love letter to Sussex, food, wine, and the kind of hospitality that feels like a warm blanket on a drizzly day. Whether you’re sneaking away for a romantic escape or bringing the whole clan for Sunday lunch, it adapts, embraces, and elevates.
Go. Order the oysters. Drink the gin. Sleep in the bed. Thank me later.
