Ownie’s
16-18 Joymount
Carrickfergus
Co Antrim
BT38 7DN
DRIVES along Northern Ireland’s coastal roads are usually best enjoyed on a sunny summer’s day. With no guarantee of sun, or indeed summer, however, a night time trip up the wind-tossed east Antrim coast can serve as a suitably atmospheric substitute.
In contrast to the dizzying kaleidoscope that has come to characterise Belfast’s boom-and-bust dining cycle, my destination was a Carrickfergus pub which has been around for almost two centuries.
Ownie’s Bar and Bistro in the Scotch Quarter opened in 1846 as Joymount Arms, a spirit grocer where you could indulge while shopping – a bygone tradition mourned by modern parents attempting to navigate a supermarket with a stubborn toddler (one of many instances when a sip of 'mother’s ruin' doesn’t seem like a bad idea).
Rebranding can be a tricky thing to negotiate, but in this case the name change is actually a tribute to Leo McCullogh, landlord for more than 70 years and nicknamed 'Ownie' by affectionate regulars amused by his grandchildren’s attempts to pronounce his name.
From outside it is unprepossessing, just one in quaint terraced row, painted a lurid rose-pink and black. It took three attempts to find the entrance and the help of a friendly member of staff to locate the bistro, upstairs in the simultaneously labyrinthine and open and airy building.
Inside, its tartan-covered seats around well-spaced tables amid the low beams and wooden panelling leave you in no doubt that you are in Scotch Quarter.
The handful of other diners was reassuring for a Tuesday in February.
The menu offers a choice for most appetites but is not one of those tomes that suggest the chef is a jack of all tastes and master of none.
Be warned, though, it is hearty fare so you’d best bring your eating pants.
My dining companion chose the Sesame Chilli Chicken Strips with wild salad leaves, while I felt a nod to the seaside was in order and selected Ownie’s Signature Chowder. Both were a reasonable £4.95.
The Bombshell normally disavows three courses but in valiant service to Irish News readers threw caution to the wind.
The chicken strips arrived encrusted with lightly toasted sesame seeds and drizzled with the fragrant chilli sauce – crispy and flavourful, the sesame perfectly offset the sweet stickiness of the sauce.
The chowder was packed with good quality fish, well balanced by melting chunks of potato, enveloped in a rich, creamy stew.
Main courses are a range of traditional pub grub, from which my companion chose lasagne served with salad, coleslaw, garlic bread and hand-cut chips for a reasonably priced £9.95.
I selected the 10oz rib-eye steak 'On the Griddle’ for £16.95. It offered 'choice of salad and sauce', but in the event I was informed that “it comes with hand-cut chips and pepper sauce”. The sauce was served 'on the side’.
Done right, lasagne is the culinary equivalent of a warm hug from an old friend. Fresh from battling Storm Whoever along the windswept promenade, the Bombshell declared, so “foundered” was she, only that pasta dish would do.
Generously proportioned but not overwhelming, the lasagne had bubbling cheese on top and tomato and garlicky-sweet beef mince, sandwiched between soft pasta sheets.
A classic dish is all too easy to get wrong, but it was reflective of the kitchen’s ethos: keep it simple but do it well.
All too often, it is the main course that can disappoint and the rib-eye was a little overdone, with familiarity with a griddle not obvious, but it was a nice enough piece of meat.
Whatever you do, however, save room for dessert. In fact, if you’re in a rush, just get the dessert.
Sticky Toffee Pudding connoisseur, the Bombshell inevitably eschewed other old-school temptations including Eton Mess and Knickerbocker Glory.
A large but perfectly formed cube of toffee-oozing sponge cake arrived and her delight abounded when the first attack with the spoon revealed it to be a lonely singleton – date free.
It was served in a little moat of butterscotch sauce, and topped with honeycomb ice cream from near neighbour Maud’s.
I was confident enough to order the Apple and Berry Crumble, sure in the knowledge it would not like so many others be drowning in too much pectin, completely overwhelming a derisory smattering of nuts and crumble tossed over it.
It was a perfectly judged swirl of fruit, topped with a satisfyingly deep crunchy crumb and a small milk bottle of warm custard alongside. It was pre-Masterchef-goes-large bliss.
We back rolled out into the storm, replete.
THE BILL
Three courses with three soft drinks and tea: £53.75
