Dog's Bollocks: drinks on a budget.

The Dog’s Bollocks 817 Queen Street West, Toronto, ON.


Karaoke is something that should be confined to house parties, dive bars at Yonge Street and Finch Avenue and the Gladstone. It should not be found at pubs called The Dog’s Bollocks. But really who cares when the drinks are so cheap?

The Dog’s Bollocks takes over the space formerly occupied by the utterly forgettable Legend, and before that the Gypsy Co-op. So with this slight moniker of failed restaurants before it, The Dog’s seems to be doing well in, not only this cursed space, but it is doing well in an economic downturn.

At 11:30 p.m. on a Thursday night it is filled, if not to the brim, with people who look happy, drunk and ready to sing their hearts out. The karaoke goes as karaoke always does, drunk people trying to sing, but failing miserably to the crowd’s delight.

Unfortunately all the booths are taken - they look comfy - so a table in the middle of the bar will have to do. The two servers, at least I think they are servers, seem to be friends with most of the people in the bar except me. They are bouncing from seats, chattering with customers and ducking out for smokes and small talk. After trying to get their attention for far too long, I move to the bar.

What a difference a meter makes. Initially, this pub doesn't much look like a pub, the walls are white, and pictures of various musicians look too small and lonely on the bare walls. The back is far more welcoming.

The bar is beautiful. It is a long inviting dark brown fitting for an establishment that is supposed to be a pub. There is a large selection of draught including Guinness, KLB Raspberry Wheat Ale, Sapporo, Strongbow and a few others. Pitchers of Amsterdam are $10, and mini pitchers of three ounce mixed drinks are also $10 (crazy!).
I feel sorry for the bartender, working alone he seems to take the brunt of the rush as customers at tables come to the bar to get drinks and waitress’ put in drink orders (so they are doing some work it seems). He is more than happy to serve, and is obviously used to working hard.

There is a fireplace in the back with antique couches perfect for couples, too bad the flat screen TV casts its overpowering blue light across the light of the fireplace; hey, at least its football (not the American kind) on the screen.
The menu is what anyone would expect from a pub: garlic bread, wings, ribs, curries and more are available until 2 a.m.

This place is nice; the only thing that is slightly off is the obnoxious DJ at the front of the house who injects farting noises into the songs people are singing. Maybe farts would be funny if I was a drunk; suddenly those mini pitchers aren’t looking so crazy.