Kentish Express Ashford & District - What's On
A blast from the past
There’s plaits, pigeon salad and very modern prices when Secret Drinker calls in at the county’s ‘oldest’ pub
Is it or isn’t it? Well off the beaten track, Ye Olde Yew Tree, near Canterbury, claims to be the oldest pub in Kent and can date its history back to 1348, but is it really the county’s oldest?
Like many boozers of this vintage it plays all the usual aces – Dick Turpin hid out here, kings and queens have stayed here and, of course, it has a selection of resident ghosts.
The Westbere inn stops short of playing the Shakespeare slept here card but does say it was converted into a hospital to treat wounded soldiers during the Civil War.
But, putting the questions surrounding 700 years of history to one side for now, what could the Yew Tree offer for a pint and a bite to eat on a Saturday night?
The car park is down a drive to the side and you walk back past a very pleasant pub garden to get to the incredibly impressive back door. Whether it’s Kent’s oldest might be open to question, but the pub is certainly packed full of history.
The dark, heavily beamed interior has an inglenook fireplace to die for and floorboards that feel as if you’ve set sail on a fairly choppy sea.
You walk straight into the bar, which has a few high stools for those simply looking for a pint, but beyond it opens out into a series of open areas which are all set up for dining.
We were served quickly and led to our table pretty much straight away.
Mrs SD went for the usual Sauvignon Blanc and the apprentice chose to Oil his Neck, while I selected a pint of Wantsum Brewery’s Imperium. It turned out to be a great choice for my surroundings as the heavy, earthy, woody flavour matched the dark brown, aged beams perfectly.
The waitress with plaits, who Mrs SD was convinced looked like Sarah Pascoe, was on hand swiftly to take our order and, after what they’ve been doing in my garden recently, I ordered the salad with pigeon breast - the other two decided to share the bread basket.
Mine was absolutely superb, the best cooked pigeon I’ve ever had on a very fresh salad with grilled honey walnuts. The bread basket was nowhere near as exciting and arrived with only a single knob of butter.
Drink-wise I rated the Imperium but it’s not for the faint-hearted. The wine was declared top notch and the apprentice assured me the Neck Oil was as good as ever. The beer’s certainly not cheap though, a Neck Oil will set you back £6 and a Peroni a tad more than that at £6.20.
The main courses came out in a timely fashion and two of us chose the homemade cheeseburger on a brioche bun with hand-cooked chips and salad. I’m not normally a huge fan of brioche but with this particular burger (beautifully grilled and moist) it was ideal.
Mrs SD is never one to turn down the chance of a pie and reckoned this beef and mushroom variety, with a good slice of puff pastry, was a great selection.
Unlike the other pair, I know my limits and I left them to peruse the pudding menu while I took a closer look around the pub.
Everything is done within reason and nothing is overdone. Of course, there is no pool, no darts, no jukebox and certainly nothing as vulgar as a fruit machine, though I did spot an ancient looking wooden bagatelle.
I didn’t see either of the resident ghosts or anything which could definitively prove the age of the pub and cement its claim to be the county’s oldest.
What I did see was more than enough wonderful history to at least justify its right to be included on a very small, select, short list for the honour.
And, I am very happy to confirm its current standing in the modern day – it is indeed a great place to visit on a Saturday evening to enjoy a pint and a bite.