The Barking Dog
Look ma! I'm a food critic! No, but seriously.. the Barking Dog, great place, great food.
In the nature of my vagabound ways, I'm only home about half of the year. As many of you know, I spend the rest of the time trying to survive in the streets of Barcelona or more recently, teaching Spanish students some sort of strange language I like to call English. As a result, what time I spend with my mother on a one to one basis is appreciated for the both of us, which means a nice meal on those rare occasions we're not tied up attending to other things. Originally we planned to go to Made in Belfast, since we appreciate its deliberately tacky/eccentric decor and the controversy causing naked lady art which act as an utter insult to the good taste of the fun hating Presbos, however a quick google of "Made in Belfast restaurant review" yielded only negative reports of its cuisine. A comment on the Guardian review suggested a number of places, one being one of Belfast's few Gastro restaraunts, "The Barking Dog". A second google search gave me the positive feedback I needed to decide that this so called dog would be the very place that our three courses would be so delightfully consumed.
And what a dog it is.
Located on the lower part of the Malone Road, the restaurant is decorated in a classy but unpretentious rustic fashion. Having made no reservation we weren't given exactly the best table in the building. Its round shape made it a little bit tricky to get our legs under one hundred percent but a pint of the home brew meant I quickly forgot about this minor indescretion. It's a pretty flavoursome Belfast lager, maybe not as crisp as I'd hope for in a pre-dinner pint but it seemed to pack a bigger punch than I was preparing for, quickly illustrated by my sudden lack of vocal volume control a mere quarter of an hour after I sat down. The candle lit interior had a fairly lively atmosphere punctuated by a series of very animated waiters. The gesticulation of the head waiter led me to believe that in the best possible sense he might have been a little bit wired - not necessarily a bad thing; a little bit of free entertainment doesn't go amiss and to his credit he upsold the menu items like some sort of Egyptian God of second hand car salesmen. The menu was quite well presented, in a readable but original font listing six or so items for each course which is in my eyes, just enough to appease every taste without clouding a customer's judgement with a barrage of over variety. There was nothing on the menu that came as a particular suprise for a standard gastro restaraunt. Lamb, steak, pork, chicken were the obvious options for the carniverous customer, whilst a pescatarian could opt for hake, fish pie (don't put that into google) and scampi. The usual linguini or risotto could be selected by more discerning vegetarians. I opted for a starter of potted chicken, garnished with probably the most perfect colseslaw I've ever tasted.. and the most ungodly tasty toast. My mum opted for the special - a carpaccio of beef with salad. In her words, this was probably the most delicious starter she had ever eaten. When it comes to food reviews, my mum doesn't deal in hyperbole. Take from that what you will. No suprise in saying the starter plates returned to their point of origin completely bare.
From a reviewer's perespective the gap between starter and main course was a good bit longer than optimal but it gave us a good chance to enjoy the simple but pleasant Chilean merlot and gas about everything in life. By the time the gap was over we were ready to get stuck into our plato segundo. In a restaraunt like this, I'm a sucker for rump of lamb - the idea of its taste is impossible to shift from my head once I get it stuck in my head. This time though, the lamb exceeded expectations - it was the medium rare that all future medium rare rumps should be cooked to the standard of, beautifully crispy on the outside, salivatingly pink on the inside. Five spices gave an uplifting kick to the juicey meat sauce, differentiating it from the norm This was complemented by a pee and bacon puree and a gorgeously layered creamed potato. My mother's only one complaint about her fantastic plate of scampi was that it was a little bit too peppery and shift the pepper/lemon ratio slightly in favour of lemon you'd have again, a perfect dish. After seeing that it was only just after nine, we decided to make a rare venture into the realm of deserts. I convinced my mum to opt for a rice pudding with a balanced garnish of caramalized pineapple and mint cream over her usual choice of creme brulee, a decision she did not regret. I on the other hand, took the advise of the waiter and opted in favour of chocolatte assiette, which was a lot more subtle than I originally suspected from the menu's description. Feeling decisively indulgent we finished the meal with a cappucino and an americano. I can't complain too much about my cappucino but the beans in my mother's americano were definitely a little bit burned. When I'm not influenced by the grape or the grain, I tend to be a bit more of a coffee snob, a testament to the barista training I received prior to starting my employment in the MAC. The bill including tip totalled just under £90; fairly typical for restaurant of this caliber and fairly reasonable when you compare it to other establishments that from what I gather appear to provide a poorer standard of cuisine and service. Ahem *MADEINBELFAST* Ahem.
Now go get your feed on.
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