Stroud is a small and ‘arty’ Cotswolds town which is frequently identified in broadsheet listicles as one of the nicest places to live in the UK. Like Stamford and other similarly quaint English towns though, I’ve often felt the restaurant offering is somewhat lacking, despite the plentiful pubs, wine bars and coffee shops. Certainly Juliet has changed that perception. Owned by sculptor Dan Chadwick (who also owns The Woolpack in Slad), he got the keys to the old Stroud Music Centre several years ago and finally decided the best use of that space would be a bistro named after his wife. It has quickly garnered national praise, and as it’s just a hop and a skip from the railway station it has an unsurprising allure for London daytrippers (it’s also very handy for Cheltenham and Gloucester, both being 10-15 miles away).
Walking in to the snug bar by the entrance, the staff in white jackets (mercifully not the medical kind, more the St John kind) and the erudite guests discussing the novels they’re reading confirmed the bohemian vibe I’d heard about. You’re less likely to see Geoff from the sitcom ‘Back’ picking up one of their tote bags – he’ll be propping the bar at The John Barleycorn putting the world to rights over a Lilt – but you will still have to fight for a table, and possibly wait in the bar which doubles as a holding pen for the inevitably stacked bookings.
Juliet is like a millefeuille of your best holidays in France and Italy rolled into one
Just to get this point out of the way (as the meal was lovely and this was my only mild irritation about the service), straight after sitting down the server issued a time limit. “Just so you know, we need this table back in 75 minutes.” Now, I completely understand the business need to turn the tables (and pay for the battalion of waiting staff – they seem to have four servers for every customer here), but they could make it feel less… terminal. They could soften the blow by, say, offering desserts, coffees and digestifs in the bar area if they’re so keen to get the next table in. But in any case, just over an hour isn’t enough time to enjoy the food here, and if the service is slow (which it wasn’t, I’m just being hypothetical) then that’s on the restaurant not the customer, and I’d fully expect a side order of Gaviscon with my bill.
While we’re on the ‘notes’, there was just one other minor disappointment: the Negroni was made with cloudy ice (à la Morchella in Exmouth Market, which I still can’t forgive them for). Pleasingly though, their gin martini was excellent and I was impressed by the breadth and decent value of the wine list.
Food-wise, the menu on this visit had to be one of most beautifully-constructed ones I’ve ever seen, every dish legitimately making a claim for your table (the countdown timer notwithstanding). Delving deeper, some things seemed to stretch seasonality and while mostly French-inspired with some Italian interlopers, there’s no particular loyalty to any region. But that could be getting as fastidious as I am about ice cubes; I was just happy to embrace the general mélange of loveliness. Really, it’s like a millefeuille of your best holidays in France and Italy rolled into one.
Morteau sausage and celeriac remoulade
Peperonata and smoked ricotta
Steak frites
Starting with Marseille-inspired panisses and a snowfall of Parmesan (£10), these elongated chickpea flour fritters were light and fluffy, while the umami hit of the cheese complemented the citrus and juniper of the martini.
Heading to the Franche-Comté region, generous slices of Morteau sausage and celeriac remoulade (£15) were an utter joy. Here, the celeriac had the requisite crunch and the creamy mayonnaise was flecked with capers and tarragon, acting as a delicious counterpoint to the sausage’s inherent smokiness. They clearly know how to marry textures and flavours together at Juliet.
From one of the few vegetarian dishes available, peperonata with smoked ricotta (£13) had a rustic simplicity but was a masterclass in how you can make two things on a plate just be themselves and shine.
Steak frites (£25) – a staple on any French bistro menu but can often (paradoxically) be poorly executed in France – was frankly impeccable here. Like so many of their dishes at Juliet, from the hogget with baby artichokes to the lemon sole with Café de Paris butter, there’s nowhere to hide with this, but both the cuisson of the bavette and the cooking of the chips were perfect.
To cleanse the palate, an inspired Campari and orange sorbet (£4.50) was simply ambrosial, and an affogato (£7), while a bit rushed, was just the ticket.
It’s not exactly life-changing stuff, or inventive, but Juliet serves supremely comforting and restorative food at a reasonable price. Its attractive pull is both understandable and justified. I’d happily return when in the Cotswolds.
49 London Road
Stroud
Gloucestershire
GL5 2AD
April 2026
