
Chef Thomas
Roasted Root Vegetables with Thyme
A tray of thick-cut roots, tossed in olive oil and thyme, roasted in a fierce oven until the edges go dark and sticky and the kitchen smells like the best version of a cold evening.

Updated April 6, 2026
The accompaniments that complete the plate. Roast potatoes, mash, Yorkshire pudding, mushy peas, braised red cabbage, buttered greens, sage and onion stuffing, bread sauce, and the seasonal vegetables that change with the calendar.
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Chef Thomas
A tray of thick-cut roots, tossed in olive oil and thyme, roasted in a fierce oven until the edges go dark and sticky and the kitchen smells like the best version of a cold evening.

Chef Thomas
Potatoes sliced thin and layered with garlicky cream, baked slowly until the top goes golden and the inside turns to something soft, rich, and entirely yielding. The sort of dish that makes a cold evening feel like a favour.

Chef Thomas
Dried marrowfat peas soaked overnight and simmered slowly until they give up and fall apart, finished with butter and torn mint into something the chip shop only half remembers.

Chef Thomas
Savoy cabbage wilted fast in foaming butter with toasted caraway seeds, the kind of side dish that quietly steals the meal from whatever it was supposed to accompany.

Chef Thomas
A rich, crumbly stuffing of pork sausage meat, chestnuts and sage, the one that fills the kitchen with the smell that tells everyone in the house that Christmas has properly started.

Chef Thomas
Four ingredients, a screaming hot oven, and the nerve to leave the door shut. These rise tall, crisp at the edges, soft in the centre, built for catching gravy and making a Sunday feel like it means something.

Chef Thomas
Red cabbage braised with Bramley apple, vinegar, and warm spice until it turns soft and glossy and the kitchen smells like the kind of cold evening you want to come home to.

Chef Thomas
Real sage and onion stuffing made with good bread, softened onions, and enough butter to remind you why it belongs beside every roast bird that matters.

Chef Thomas
Fresh broad beans turned through foaming butter with summer savory picked from the garden, the kind of side dish that arrives in July and is gone before you've had your fill.

Chef Thomas
Beetroot roasted in foil with thyme until the flesh turns sweet and yielding, the kind of side dish that quietly becomes the thing on the plate everyone reaches for first.

Chef Thomas
Jerusalem artichokes roasted with bay leaves and lemon until they turn nutty and golden and sticky at the edges, the kind of winter side dish that quietly becomes the best thing on the table.

Chef Thomas
Small, golden balls of herbed breadcrumbs and suet, scented with lemon and thyme, baked until they smell like the best part of a Sunday roast and served alongside the bird where they belong.

Chef Thomas
Floury potatoes beaten with spring onions warmed in milk and a good deal of butter, the kind of side dish that quietly becomes the thing you reach for first.

Chef Thomas
Spring greens shredded fine and turned through foaming butter until they go vivid and glossy and taste like the season finally arriving on the plate.

Chef Thomas
Squash wedges roasted until their edges go sticky and golden, then doused in brown butter that smells of hazelnuts and scattered with sage leaves fried until they shatter between your teeth.

Chef Thomas
Savoy cabbage ribbons folded through cream and nutmeg, topped with cheese-scattered breadcrumbs and baked until the whole dish turns golden, bubbling, and impossible to leave alone.

Chef Thomas
Celery braised long and slow in butter and good stock until it turns soft, silky, and almost sweet, the kind of quiet side dish that makes people ask what you did to it.

Chef Thomas
Floury potatoes, roughed and roasted in screaming hot fat until the edges go dark and craggy and the inside stays soft as cloud. The side dish that makes the whole plate worth sitting down for.

Chef Thomas
Whole onions surrendered to a low oven with cream and thyme until they collapse into something golden, sweet and yielding, the kind of side dish that quietly upstages everything else on the table.

Chef Thomas
Swede mashed with butter until golden and sweet, finished with enough black pepper to make your nose prickle, the kind of side dish that quietly holds the whole plate together on a winter evening.

Chef Thomas
Yellow split peas, simmered slowly in ham stock until thick, golden, and savoury, spooned alongside something salty and good. A dish that has been keeping people warm for centuries and sees no reason to stop.

Chef Thomas
Parsnips roasted in honey and butter until their edges go sticky and dark, the kind of side dish that quietly steals the whole plate at a Sunday roast.

Chef Thomas
Broccoli baked under a thick, savoury cheese sauce until the top blisters gold and the kitchen smells like the kind of evening you want to stay in for.

Chef Thomas
Oatmeal toasted in butter until it smells of warm biscuits, stirred through with soft onion and handfuls of fresh herbs. Lighter and nuttier than any bread stuffing, and a quietly splendid thing beside a roast bird.

Chef Thomas
The first new potatoes of June, boiled in salted water until waxy and tender, then rolled in melting butter with torn mint. Three ingredients and no reason on earth to do anything more.

Chef Thomas
Leeks surrendered to butter and cream until they turn silky, sweet and yielding, the kind of side dish that quietly becomes the reason you sat down to dinner in the first place.

Chef Thomas
Buttery mashed potato folded with Savoy cabbage and spring onions, a well of melting butter in the centre, the kind of bowl that makes an October evening feel like someone is paying attention.

Chef Thomas
Potatoes mashed with good butter and warm milk into something so yielding and quiet that it makes everything else on the plate feel at home.

Chef Thomas
Fresh peas from the pod, turned quickly in butter with torn mint leaves, the kind of side dish that tastes like the garden in June and needs nothing more than it already has.

Chef Thomas
Spinach wilted and folded into butter and cream with a grating of whole nutmeg, the kind of quiet side dish that makes everything else on the plate better without asking for any attention itself.

Chef Thomas
Carrots turned slowly in butter and a whisper of sugar until they go glossy and golden, then scattered with torn parsley. The side dish that makes everything else on the plate make sense.

Chef Thomas
Peas braised in butter with wilted lettuce and spring onions, a dish that is entirely French in spirit and entirely at home on an English table in late May when the garden finally delivers.

Chef Thomas
Carrots roasted until their edges go sticky and dark with honey and warm cumin, the kind of side dish that quietly becomes the thing everyone reaches for first.

Chef Thomas
Milk steeped with cloves and bay, thickened with soft breadcrumbs into something creamy and spiced and quietly indispensable, the kind of side dish that nobody remembers to ask for until it isn't there.

Chef Thomas
Thick-cut, twice-fried chips with a shattering golden crust and a floury, collapsing centre, cooked in beef dripping the way they ought to be, and served with nothing but salt and sharp vinegar.
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