It was a bog standard Saturday night in St Clements, and The Port Mahon was bursting with pub crawlers, rugby fans, hen nights, students and locals. Some stood at the bar, some sat and chatted, a wonderful mix of languages flooding through.
The Six Nations was on, cheers emanating from the lower bar, plates of chips continually brought out to sop up the pints being consumed.
Upstairs the tables were equally as busy, but as we’d had the foresight to reserve a table, we still managed to grab a seat. Why were we there? Because rumour had it that there’s some mighty fine food emanating from the kitchen, and we wanted to be first in line.
‘the cheeseburger dripped and glistened with sauce, juice flowing down our hands. it was bloody glorious’
It’s a fun offering, a Greek collaboration of Athenian favourites, alongside some more staple pub classics. It’s the detail however that catches our eye – beef & bone marrow pie with sautéed buttered seasonal greens (£21.50), winter salad with endives, iceberg, walnuts, stilton and smoked tofu or chicken (£14-£16), smoked salmon pate with cornichons and sourdough (£8). A step above two pints of lager and a packet of crisps then.
Fighting our way through the crowd to our table, our waitress arrived to take our order, the pork belly bites with a soy, honey and sesame sauce (£7.50), Welsh rarebit with Montgomery cheddar, caramelised & pickled onions (£7.50), the chicken wings. And then the bacon cheeseburger (two beef patties, maple bacon, American cheese, Dijonnaise and chips (£16.50) a greek gyros (£9.95) – the grilled halloumi, and some sides of courgette and tomato fritters.
While sitting back and waiting to see what all the fuss was all about, we were fully preoccupied by the Apres Ski party revellers who’d just arrived, resplendent in neon all-in-one ski suits. But then the starters appeared dn out attention was immediately diverted to the courgette with tzatziki fritters and tomato fritters with a Gyros tomato, or was it a fiery chilli?
One bite changed everything – the tomato fritters were blended but still managed to burst with freshness and juice, the smoky depth of the sauce out of this world. The courgette fritters were equally as good, if more recognisable, the garlic kicking in with a punch.
The chicken wings were fiery hot, crisp, moist inside but really kicking in on the old chilli front, no limp buffet style imitations here.
As for the pork belly bites, so often tossed out of a packet from the freezer, but here slow braised and cut into chunks, succulent, immersed in its dark Asian, sticky, piquant sauce. Divine.
‘Perhaps this is the way forward I thought as the apres ski party started doing shots at the bar, something for everyone’
The more presentable and abstemious Welsh rarebit was garnished with bright pink, home pickled onion slices, cutting through the cheesy depths below.
As for the cheeseburger, it dripped and glistened, sauce and juice flowing down our hands, the patties really well flavoured, the components – from the bun to the crispy sweet bacon – adding texture and taste. One of the best ever, it was bloody glorious.
Any remaining sauce from the fritters we poured all over the gyros and tucked in. Generous, full of lettuce, tomatoes and red onion, it was hearty fare. Oh for some Mediterranean sunshine to accompany it we thought as the rain poured down outside.
How to order dessert? We waded up to the bar, pushed through and ordered one of each – the sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream, and the Oreo cream and chocolate brownie sundae, the latter vegan we discovered incredulously later, because that sweet cream, chocolate crunch and morello cherries with hundreds and thousands, was light, fun and deliciously kitsch.
‘A pub can still be a pub while serving some seriously good, unpretentious food’
The sticky toffee was rather hard so we left it, but nothing could have spoiled our admiration at this stage for such wonderful pub food being served out of such an honest boozer.
Chef Paolo Cangiano came out afterwards, shouting to be heard above the busy pub, shrugging and smiling as we congratulated him, before we headed out into the rain.
And it was so refreshing to find somewhere doing things differently. A pub can still be a pub while serving some seriously good, unpretentious food. Perhaps this is the way forward I thought as the apres ski party started doing shots at the bar, something for everyone.
The Port Mahon is at 82 St. Clements Street, Oxford. OX4 1AW https://www.theportmahon.com
