I was going to start this piece riffing on the name of Deathrow Kitchen. I had a whole thing on mortality planned, a subtle use of the word execution to slot into the cooking parts, and a not-so-subtle part about Deathrow now just being called Row in certain parts of America. But that’s naff and I am many, many things, but naff I am not. So I’ll just pull out the big guns (or should that be firing squad?!) straight away; Dom Clarke is behind the cooking. Miss the cooking at Caneat? Go Deathrow Kitchen. Can’t afford The Plough? Go Deathrow Kitchen. Like tasty and delicious cooking? You get the point. Basically just go to Deathrow Kitchen. It’s quite brilliant.
They describe the cooking as ‘the dirty south’, which, given Dom’s background I’ll take to mean the Lowcountry belt of America and not Clapton-on-sea. Many years ago Dom was a part of The Soul Food Project, a collective of bright young sparks that put Cajun food into various kitchens. He knows this food. It makes perfect sense to bring it into the kitchen of the Hare & Hounds, removing The Plough from the conversation and giving it an identity of its own. It’s the same pub, with the same low, slightly seedy lighting out towards the backroom and still the same brilliant level of service.
We order way too much. Cheeseburger croquettes are slick, meaty things packed with braised beef and topped with ketchup, mustard, and pickled gherkins. There are a lot of these and for that they offer great value at £8. They seem destined to be cult classics. And then there are the hash browns made with spuds and kimchi, drowned in a mixture of sriracha mayo and crispy chilli oil, which may or may not be familiar from Stirchley. Sophie loves them, despite a general disdain of kimchi, because its more layered heat than fermented cabbage notes. We almost ordered the red thai prawn crumpets though we’d had them just days before at The Plough. They deserve to be on both menus.
Mains are massive. Gary Sambrook sized dinners that take time and willpower to finish. My chicken parm is an impressive thing; so impressive that a member of the band we are seeing later stops and asks what I’m eating so that she can order the same. The escalope of butterflied breast takes over sixty percent of the plate, topped with mariana sauce, lots of chewy mozzarella, and a good squirt of pesto. It’s comfort food at its finest, and it goes surprisingly well with the coronation slaw we’ve ordered on the side. Sophie gets the fish and chips which utilise a southern style coating of yellow cornmeal, buttermilk, and, I’m guessing lots of Old Bay. The result is a granular, slightly tangy coating with a hard, particular crunch far away from the silent, fat-soaked conduit of traditional batter. As good as the fish is – and it is very good – it is the jalapeno tartare that steals the attention; a fatty, mildly acidic, and perky tartare that needs to appear across their portfolio immediately. I would dip my Deathrow Pizza crusts in it, and the same for my Deathrow Sandwiches. I would like to see it at The Plough, with my burgers, fish finger sandwiches, or morning coffee. There are also some tangy barbeque beans but yeah, that tartare sauce.
Dessert are three new Odi + Moo flavours that are all good, but especially the pecan pie flavour which I demand is turned into an American affogato of sorts with an espresso and shot of bourbon, and if they don’t do that, then do it yourself and send me the thanks via postcard. With small plates topping out at £8 and mains all mid-teens it offers the best value across the group, with the added bonus of one of the best small music venues in the country at the top of the stairs. We left to watch Man/Women/Chainsaw in the most buoyant of moods, so good in fact that when Nosedive played as their finale I found myself buying shots for strangers around me. The new food offering at Hare & Hounds is going to fly, maybe more than any others have to date.
9/10
