East Sussex

The term ‘Community Pub’ can so easily indicate a cold and sparsely decorated undertakers’ waiting room of a place, staffed by reluctant teenagers and middle-management fascists on their day off. The charm of a Manchester working men’s club c.1970 mixed with an all-you-can-eat carvery on the cross-channel ferry to Zeebrugge. But occasionally, it signposts something of which locals can be proud and to which visitors might flock. Non-professional doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of professionalism. Best of all, it can mean idiosyncratic food and drink menus composed with an eye to pleasure rather than head-office profit and loss spreadsheets.

Hove’s Stirling Arms falls squarely into the latter category. In fact it’s part of a small local indie group of pubs that includes the excellent George Payne in Poets’ Corner. But it’s individual and still pleasingly kooky. And definitely worth the pilgrimage to the residential enclave where it nestles between the rump of a Tesco megastore and the down-at-heal shuffle of Blatchington Rd. It shares its environs with the inimitable Urchin, always a reason to point your sluggish gastro-pods in this direction.

Behind the canary-yellow facade is a relaxed bar of mismatched tables and chairs, chintzy crockery and the odd fringed lampshade. All nicely battered and chiccy shab. The old-wood central bar in reassuringly trad, defining a space that's not small so much as intimate with conspiratorial nooks and crannies. The antithesis of hanger-like Spoon’s boozers, it's all very Queen Vic. But nicer. Snugglier. And less Babs-Windsored. More Charles Hawtreyed ...

The wine list shows enough imagination to stop me climbing on my soap box and there are local beers on tap and all the usual bathtub gins etc lining the shelves. But it’s the food and the people (arguably in that order) that are the draw here. A goodly smattering of Oxfam-leopard-skin-coat-and-spangly-ankle-boot types sit comfortably with eclectic family groups, lone suppers and common-or-garden tipplers. It’s convivial, welcoming and charmingly curated with a complete lack of artifice.

The regularly changing menu started off playing host to pop-up posh kebabs (of which they’ve cleverly retained the best) but has added along the way some great Asian touches (confit duck crispy spring rolls with red-plum gel), a hint of Middle Eastern verve (roast aubergine with garlic labneh), elevated pub grub like oxtail bonbons with chive aioli and larger plates such as crispy pork belly with colcannon. There are ‘wings ‘n ribs’ too which you’d never normally order but are actually rather nice here (the latter featuring Korean coconut sriracha for heaven's sake!). Good burgers (with the obligatory but still entirely welcome truffle fries) and plenty of veggie and vegan action top it all off. Don't expect thematic coherence or dagger-like precision. Kick off your ankle boots and lay aside your fine-dining ways. Just graze. I've not encountered a duff plate yet.

Big boards shout specials from the walls and there’s the Sunday roast with live jazz to contend with and even a couple of inn rooms upstairs when you’ve supped too well for the toddle home. Out back is a courtyard gardeny space and nice tables line street-side. No need to freeze outside with fido however, dogs are as welcome inside as humans.