There’s something so timeless about a Sunday roast dinner. It’s that one meal that seems to stop the world for a few hours, where everyone slows down, sits around the table, and reconnects. The clatter of dishes, the conversations, the sound of laughter filling the room, it’s as much about the people as it is about the food.

Every family has their own version of the roast. Some swear by beef, others wouldn’t dream of serving anything but chicken. There are those who meticulously plan their timing down to the minute, and others who wing it entirely, but somehow, it all comes together. It’s the kind of meal that feels like home, no matter how you do it.

And while tradition is the backbone of a good roast, there’s always room to bring in new flavours. A drizzle of honey here, a touch of spice there, small tweaks that make the familiar feel exciting again. Because let’s face it, no matter how many times we’ve made it, the Sunday roast still deserves a little creativity.

Honey and Thyme Roasted Chantenay Carrots

Carrots are always one of those sides that can easily get overlooked, often boiled until soft and pushed to the side of the plate. But these little Chantenay carrots, with their natural sweetness, deserve a starring role. Roasting them brings out a depth of flavour that’s earthy, caramelised, and indulgent.

When tossed in honey and thyme, they transform into something truly special, glossy, golden, and bursting with flavour. The honey gives them a sticky sweetness, while the thyme adds a fragrant, herbal note that cuts through the richness of the rest of the roast.

You’ll need:

• 500g Chantenay carrots (Left whole)
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp runny honey
• 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves (or ½ tsp dried thyme)
• Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper

To make them:

1. Preheat your oven to 200°C (180°C fan).
2. Tip the carrots into a roasting tray and drizzle with olive oil and honey.
3. Sprinkle over the thyme, season generously, and toss everything together until well coated.
4. Roast for 25–30 minutes, giving them a turn halfway through, until they’re tender with beautifully caramelised edges.

If you want to take them up another notch, add a squeeze of orange juice before roasting. The citrus brightens up the flavours and pairs wonderfully with both chicken and beef.

Garlic and Rosemary Roast Beef

The smell of a roasting joint of beef is enough to make anyone’s mouth water. It’s the kind of aroma that wafts through the house and announces, without a word, that Sunday has arrived.

This version takes all the comfort of a classic roast and enhances it with the deep, savoury fragrance of garlic and the woodsy aroma of fresh rosemary. The two work in harmony, the garlic mellowing in the heat, the rosemary infusing the beef with flavour, and the outer developing that perfect golden-brown crust.

You’ll need:

• 1.5kg beef joint (topside or sirloin)
• 3 cloves garlic, sliced
• 2 sprigs fresh rosemary
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• Sea salt and cracked black pepper

Here’s how to do it:

1. Preheat your oven to 220°C (200°C fan).
2. Pat the beef dry with kitchen paper. Using a small, sharp knife, make little incisions all over the joint.
3. Push slices of garlic and small sprigs of rosemary into each cut.
4. Rub the outside of the beef with olive oil, then season generously with salt and pepper.
5. Place in a roasting tin and cook for 20 minutes to brown, then lower the temperature to 180°C (160°C fan) and continue roasting for:
   • Rare: 15 mins per 500g
   • Medium: 20 mins per 500g
   • Well done: 25 mins per 500g
6. Once done, remove the beef from the oven and let it rest for at least 20 minutes. This step is crucial, it allows the juices to settle, ensuring every slice is tender and full of flavour.

Serve it thinly carved with all the usual trimmings: crispy roast potatoes, a mountain of Yorkshire puddings, and of course, a generous spoonful of they glossy honey-roasted carrot goodness.

The Spirit of the Sunday Roast

A Sunday roast isn’t just a meal: it’s a ritual. It’s the smell of gravy bubbling on the hob, the sound of a chair scraping back as someone goes in for “just one more roast potato,” and the moment of quiet satisfaction that comes when everyone’s finally full and happy.

There’s comfort in the repetition of it, but there’s also joy in the small changes, a new seasoning, a different vegetable, a twist that makes it yours. So next Sunday, when you’re standing over that roasting tin, don’t be afraid to experiment a little. The heart of the tradition will always be there, but that touch of creativity might just make it the best roast yet.