The Viking Reviews: Back Inn Time

I must be honest with you all before we get started in this review.  This isn’t so much a review as it is a love letter to my absolute favourite restaurant.  Tucked away behind the hustle and bustle of Essex’s county town, a short hop from Chelmsford train station, you will find an unassuming cream building with a clock on its face.  It’ll only be on closer inspection as you approach that you will notice that the clock is turning backwards.  As you get closer, you’ll notice the faint glow of red neon in one of the windows, simply advertising the wares to be had inside: “Eats!” the sign proclaims.  Brown shutters offer glimpses of gingham table cloths, whirling waiters, and slices of retro Americana.  Heading around to the rear, and the entrance, you’re assailed by the sounds of good old rock and roll and, more importantly, the sound of people having a good time.

You have found yourself at Back Inn Time, one of Chelmsford’s oldest and (in my case at least) best loved restaurants.  I’ve been coming here since I was seven – that’s twenty four years of loyalty to a place that is bordering on the fierce.  Sure, sometimes I won’t get to go there for a couple of years, but every time I return it is like coming back to an old friend: the bar staff always greet you with a smile, making you feel welcome the very second you walk through the brass handled door.

Immediately, there’s a lively buzz.  There’s nothing staid about Back Inn Time – the walls are red brick, covered in an explosion of American number plates, postcards, cola adverts and beer signs.  There’s a cute little train that chugs about the restaurant at ceiling height.  The lighting is low, and as you take a seat at the bar for a long, cold beer (served in an iced glass, no less) or one of the best cocktails in town, you know that you’re in for a treat.

So it was that I found myself at Back Inn Time last weekend.  After a long day out on the road looking for a new house myself and three companions found ourselves in Chelmsford and hungry.  We didn’t want to eat mass-produced chain food and we knew that there was only one place to go.  We were very lucky – this was a Saturday evening and I have never once been able to walk in and get a table (booking in advance is always recommended) – they had a spare slot for us and so we sat down for the feast to end all feasts.

The menu is huge, delivered to you on a Moses-esque style tablet – the commandments of eating, if you will, one side covered in ‘Good Beginnings’ and ‘Final Flings’, while the other is choc full of the House Specialities – Steakside, Southwestern, Chicken and Ribs, All American, and some things called ‘Garden Salads’ – although why you’d want one of those is anyone’s guess.

Good Beginnings, then, and my – was the beginning good.  For myself, I ordered loaded potato skins:

A hollowed out, family sized potato stuffed with, in this case, cheese and chilli beef.  The cheese was smooth, flavoursome and stringy, the chilli fiery but tempered beautifully by the creaminess of the cheese, the crispy potato skin adding a charcoal crunch to the whole affair.  The cold bite of the sour cream adds a level of acidity that really takes the edge off of the spiciness – the only problem with the dish being that perhaps a little more in the way of chilli could be added.  But that’s mainly because I am a fool for chilli, and always want that little bit more.

One of my companions went for a real classic: Love at First Bite:

Mushrooms, stuffed with Pate, breaded and then fried, served with a garlic dip.  There are no words to describe this adequately.  The light crunch of breadcrumb gives way to smooth, meaty pate, delightfully complemented by a rich, powerfully garlicky dip that makes you wish there was a vat of it nearby to dive in to.

Chicken fingers were the order of the day for Mrs. Viking:

Very simple, breaded and fried chicken strips served with a BBQ dippin’ sauce.  Simple, but pleasurable – the chicken is moist, the bread crunchy, and the BBQ sauce just on the right side of tart. 

Finally, for the starter at least, out other companion bravely went off piste, going for the Specials board.  Tempura Prawns with a sweet chilli dip were delivered to him:

The tempura was reported to be light and crisp, the prawn having a little bite to it and the chilli dip to be more hot than sweet.  I dipped a finger in it myself, and found that yes, maybe a little hotter than it was sweet, but if anything that’s a minor niggle to a group of people who have a taste for spicier food anyway.

On to mains, then, and I was delivered half a cow, sorry, a New York Strip.  ½ a pound of prime sirloin, cooked to absolute perfection.  Honestly.  Show one of these steaks a knife and it will pretty much cut itself for you and throw itself in to your mouth.  You probably won’t even need to chew, as the meat is deliciously tender, with the juice of a perfect medium rare piece of meat bursting inside your mouth.  It even has perfect, diamond char strips that impress the heck out of the seven year old in me.  Chips are crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside and the salad crisp and refreshing (if you’re interested in that kind of thing).

Again, someone decided to be Avant-Garde in the group, and ordered from the specials board.  Chicken breast topped with field mushrooms and spinach, topped again with melted mozzarella.  This, it has to be said, seemed to be the lowest point of the evening.  The chicken was a tad on the dry side while the cheese seemed ever so slightly watery.  That said, the general flavour was (I am told) good, the mushrooms working well with the mozzarella to provide an earthy bite against the rich flavour of the chicken breast which had been seasoned very well indeed.

Despite my requests, Mrs V and our other friend both had ribs, the only difference being one of them had curly fries while one went down the traditional route and went for good old fashioned chips.  But the carbohydrate is the chorus line to the ribs’ star turn – a whole rack of ribs served up on a plate that wouldn’t look out of place in the hands of a giant, lovingly coated in a sticky, homemade hickory smoked barbecue sauce in which the ribs are cooked for hours and hours on end until the meat is rich, tender, and fit to fall straight off the bone.  Served with a whole box of tissues and a dog food bowl for the bones, this dish is an evening’s entertainment in itself.  The flavour assaults your tastebuds while the sauce carries out a surprise attack against your whole face.  The chips, almost forgotten, play their part by adding a little much-needed crunch against the endless soft meat, and the clatter of bones against porcelain as you cast one rib aside before diving in to the next one is like listening to the music of a supergroup formed of Dave Grohl on drums, Slash and Pete Townsend on guitars, Flea on bass and Freddie on vocals, only it’s a million times better than that.

In conclusion, then, Back Inn Time is a great place to eat.  It’s unpretentious, it’s fun, the food is damned tasty and, if it’s your birthday, the whole staff get around your table and sing Happy Birthday to you.  OK, you might think that’s tacky and over the top – and if you think that, then you’re probably dead inside, and you need to learn how to have a little fun every now and then.  The next time you’re in Chelmsford (or, really, anywhere in the South East), give ‘em a call and get yourself a table.  Tell them I sent you.  They won’t know who the hell you’re talking about, but it’ll make me feel important.  Anyway, you won’t regret it, and don’t forget that they do huge, delicious deserts too – unfortunately, we couldn’t handle them due to the massive amounts of meat we had consumed…  Afterwards, when you’re sitting at the bar sinking a cold Budweiser, you’ll already be planning your next visit.  And wondering how you can get a cool little train like that in your house.

Back Inn Time, Chelmsford: Four and Three-Quarter Vikings out of Five

Website: www.backinntime.co.uk


I'll be back next week with big food, big flavour, and more Vikingy things.  Until then, take care!


Viking