Soulful Sunday at The Bell Inn, Langford

Sometimes there's just nothing better than going out for a Sunday Roast. Blasphemous, I know. You're supposed to love your Mum's the best, because only she can crisp up the potatoes just the way you like them, serve you every variety of veg that you like on the side, and have all your favourite condiments ready and waiting. But, kitted out in your Sunday Best, you come across a corker, and it just feels magical.

Perhaps it's the fact that such things are a rarity. I've lost count of the "just ok" roasts I've had; nothing terrible, but nothing memorable either. Those are the kinds that sway you into the "Mum's is best" territory. Though for me, those are the kinds that keep me going out, on the hunt for that flawless Sunday Roast.

Last month The Chap and I headed somewhere new; The Bell Inn, Langford. Reopened in December, now run by Peter Creed and Tom Noest (both ex Lucky Onion), it's a proper local pub with a focus on quality food and drink. I'd heard high praise from friends, Instagram teased me with mouth watering snaps and, the week before our visit, Giles Coren unleashed a perfect score review in The Times. "On the final day of 2017, I had not just the best mouthful of the year, but the best mouthful of my life," he boldly said about some flat bread. I was practically giddy with excitement as we drove across the Cotswold countryside to get to our destination just outside Burford.

The Langford street was lined with cars; the word's spread already, we thought as we parked down the road. Our cheeks pink and stinging from the cold outside, we were greeted with a warm welcome and were seated at a table by the fire. Bingo. Pub checklist time. Roaring fire; check. Sunday papers; check. Local beers; check. Buzzy atmosphere; check. Pub dogs; check, check, check... Big ones, small ones, fluffy ones, scruffy ones. I do love a pub dog.

Hearty, classic pub food with the addition of woodfired dishes is the vibe here. Steak frites, a burger, half a pint of prawns, alongside beautifully blistered pizzas topped with such things as venison meatballs or nduja and pickled jalapenos. A trio of roasts on a Sunday too, though before we could even attempt to make any decisions, we ordered a pint, a glass of Cava (no Prosecco thank God) and THAT bread.

Garlic, parsley and bone marrow flat bread (£5); a little nod to Fergus Henderson's roast bone marrow with parsley salad, and a thing of dreams. I didn't do it Coren-style wrapped around a piece of sirloin, there was no chance this was hanging around long enough to see our mains. Pizza like in appearance, with a heady scent of garlic and bone fat like butter. It already has legendary status, and rightly so. If you don't order this when you visit, have you even been?

To start we had the Cotswold IPA rarebit, pickles and soldiers (£7). Cheese fondue rather than cheese on toast, rich and tangy with decent cayenne heat, and crisp sourdough soldiers to dunk... Much more fun. Then as much as it pains me, for fear of over carb-ing we shied away from the smoked eel on toast and picked the healthier smoked mackerel, beetroot, green beans and horseradish option (£7). Tangled together with rocket, you got a bit of everything with each forkful.

The wine list at The Bell Inn is excellent. A solid mix of old world and new world, traditional styles and funky natural numbers, all at a good price too. We went for the Lodi Californian Cab Franc (£27), of which the label's moustached Frank fitted right in with this Cotswold Gent location.

The Kelmscott pork loin and apple sauce roast (£15) was my choice; two fat piggy medallions, so juicy, with a piece of crisp crackling and caramelised apple sauce. The Chap predictably chose the dry aged beef sirloin and horseradish (£16), because it was a dead cert that the beef was going to be superb - it was - and he can never resist a Yorkshire Pudding. Both were served with seasonal veg - carrots, parsnips, cabbage - roasties, and creamy cauliflower cheese just to push you over the edge. Oh my.

Despite not having any room left, it isn't Sunday Lunch without dessert. The Valrhona Chocolate Nemesis was never going to get a look in with a name like that - shame, it looked great - so an old school rice pudding it was. Rice pudding with Earl Grey prunes (£6) brought out by Head Chef Noest himself. I would've kissed him if it wasn't wildly inappropriate. Not too sweet, not too heavy; soothing, comforting, and heart-meltingly good.

On the drive home, having prised ourselves away from the fire, we were both singing The Bell's praises. Was it the simplicity that made it one of our all time fave roasts? Was it the faultless execution? Or was it the whole perfect pub package? Neither of us cared to think about it too much, we're far more concerned with when we can next fit in a visit for dinner, and whether we'll even be able to get a table. 10/10 score well and truly deserved.