The Albion, Hastings: restaurant review
On April 30, 2025 by The Plate Licked Clean‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a person in possession of a good pint, must be in want of a proper pie.’
I think that’s how it goes, anyway.
The Albion was already well established as a Hastings pub when Jane Austen published Pride and Prejudice in 1813. Slightly more recently, I was brought here on my first weekend in town and it has kept me coming back ever since. It feels like that increasingly rare thing: a proper pub, with live music, well kept beers and good food.
In The Albion’s case, this means pies.
After all, it’s the obvious partnership, isn’t it? Britain loves pie. We are good at this stuff.
A chalkboard lists guest beers and ciders from the county (Harvey’s in Lewes, Lakedown, owned by Roger Daltrey’s son Jamie) and further afield. Besides, any bar with the mighty Yarlington Mill, from Hereford’s Denys Gwatkin, is A Good Thing.
B, my long-suffering partner in crime, took her favourite photo of me here. I’m looking out of the window and she assumes I was thinking of her. Usually, she would be right. But in that moment? My eyes-and mind- were firmly on The Albion’s pasty shack, tantalisingly close, just the other side of the glass. That little roadside hut will feed you everything from steak and Stilton to a classic Cornish (direct from St Columb), or Sussex lamb with mint sauce and locally-caught crab with chilli jam.
And that’s just a (very welcome) sideshow to the main business of the Albion menu, which takes its piecraft very seriously indeed. They’ve thought of everything: take your favourite home in a box, or try your hand with their cookbook. They even offer a pie meal loyalty card: buy six, get your seventh free. What a time to be alive.
First, pick your pie from the eight or nine on offer, pick your side, pick your sauce. The permutations are considerable, from the core menu of familiar classics to mashed potato-topped regulars and gluten free, vegetarian and vegan options. Don’t ignore the specials- you might find venison, port and Stilton, or Sussex game (boar rabbit duck bacon) in puff pastry.
Over several visits, things here are impressively consistent. Each one nails the brief while doing exactly what it says on the tin, and you should feel free to supply your own wretchedly mangled clichés here. Details matter. So steak and ale has that tangy richness in the gravy, or there’s a noticeable smokiness to the ham, chicken and leek.
That sadly rare find- a proper, honest to goodness steak and kidney pudding, suet-crusted, comes with a punchy, sinus-troubling horseradish sauce. Locally-smoked haddock, from nearby Sonny’s of Rock a Nore, is the star of a fish and egg pie and I’d like that cheese and mustard sauce by the vat rather than the boat.
One of those specials, mutton madras, is a triumph: a robustly spiced filling, the pastry rich and flaky, and if I tell you I still think of it months later, please don’t judge me.
They don’t over-complicate the sides: they just do them well. Chips have rustle and snap and are pretty much everything you need from a pub chip: red cabbage has the sort of bite and heft often lacking elsewhere. Leeks are lifted into something rich and aromatic- indulgent, even, and heady with thyme.
A crab macaroni cheese needs a little more bechamel to bring it all together, and a bolder hand with flavour- a fuller-bodied cheese, a dab more mustard- but these are the fine margins between good and essential.
You could slump straight from the beach into the hospitality here: and if you can top that as a suggestion for a day well spent I’d love to hear your ideas.
I’ll leave the last word to my daughter: good practice for her imminent teenage phase, I’m sure. We bring her here during her first visit to Hastings. She settles in, takes in her surroundings.
Happy? I ask.
‘Well, I’ve ordered pie’, she says, with that slightly quizzical, head cocked, eyes narrowed thing she does now. The one that’s like looking in a mirror. The one that makes my heart ache a little.
‘I’ve ordered pie’.
As if that explains everything.
And in a way, I suppose it does.
The Albion
Marine Parade, Hastings Old Town TN34 3AG
YOU MAY ALSO ENJOY:
This blog is a very simple thing.
I won’t try to sell you any hand lotion, exercise programmes, coffee syrups or Patagonian nose flutes. You won’t find tips on dating, ‘wellness’ or yoga mats.
I write because I love it (and food, as indicated by my increasing girth). Greed happens to be my Deadly Sin of choice, but at least it is never shy of providing me with subject matter.Â
A simple thing, then: all you get is me wittering on semi-coherently about places I’ve eaten at; hence a ‘restaurant blog’ rather than a ‘food blog’, although there are a few recipes scattered throughout.Â
From mezze to Michelin ‘fine dining’ and all points in between.Â
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.