Squid Shack
277 Upper Newtownards Road,
Belfast,
BT4 3JF
facebook.com/squidshackballyhack
There are some words I could do without ever seeing on a menu again, but few will drive to me to a sigh quicker than ‘proper’.
The thing is, the end result is usually perfectly fine, often very nice, but there’s something about calling your food ‘proper’, however good it may be, that just rubs me up the wrong way.
Gravy often gets lumbered with it, as do chips. Though who doesn’t want a proper gravy chip every so often? Although I can’t think of a situation when one would be improper.
It’s not just food. Whether it’s gatekeeping sports supporters or blokes who are certifiably old enough to know better throwing a fit over someone not born the last time the Gallaghers fell out, who only likes Wonderwall after they heard it on TikTok, getting tickets to see Oasis, ‘proper fan’ is equally as obnoxious.
And while we’re on the subject, there aren’t many people more tiresome or eyeroll-inducing than any who witter on about ‘proper music’. So music you like, then? Good, glad we cleared that up.
Sometimes, maybe in the example of that gravy, you can see some level of justification for it where bones and bits and bobs have been used rather than granules. But, like the fandom and the music, there’s often a fair whack of pretension in there. You’d never catch me at that sort of thing.
Other words, on the other hand, don’t appear nearly enough on menus.
More things should, for example, be referred to as ‘magic’. Maybe not beans, as that could get out hand, but magical dinners are sadly few and far between, so why not slap it in front of a side dish for no apparent reason?
If you go to Squid Shack in east Belfast you can have yourself some ‘magic’ fries.
“What makes them magic?” I ask, and discover I may be the first person who’s made this query.
I never really find out if these thin chips possess any special powers or if there’s sleight of hand involved, but do discover that they come covered in garlic mayonnaise, coriander (if, for some unknown reason, that’s your thing) and fistfuls of shredded scallion and chilli. So far, so nice, but frankly unmagical. But then there’s the fennel seeds. An entirely unexpected but, as it turns out, fantastic addition to a bag of chips.
With everything else it gives these fries an Asian inflection and that influence can be found elsewhere on the thankfully proper-less menu.
It features in what, given the name of the place, comes closest to its signature offering, boxes of fiery, but not overly so, deep fried salt and chilli squid with crunchy slaw, chilli jam and a soy-powered dressing. You can get prawns in there too and there’s a generous amount of both in a half-and-half box.
There’s a steady stream of delivery folk in and out of the simple, no frills space, while most people sitting in appear to be leaning towards the ‘classics’ portion of the menu. And serious portions they are too. You get an awful lot in both the fish and chips, with an excellent piece of haddock in a crisp batter, and the scampi and chips.
The haddock is the best thing there, with the scampi perfectly fine but the chunky chips lacking something – as indeed did those thin fries on their own before some magic was worked on them.
Better is the fish taco – more substantial chunks of haddock, this time slathered in a sweet, warming curry mayonnaise with the ruby crunch of pickled cabbage.
The tortillas cradling all that are put under serious pressure when everything’s brought together but prove up to the job.
The ordinariness of the chips is also a surprise when you consider just how good the onion rings are. Just the right side of the greasy line they have to tread, the batter shimmers, shatters then melts, the sweet onion inside is brought alive by a good whack of vinegar, these have come out of a deep-fat fryer operated by a proper pro. Sigh.
The bill
- Scampi and chips £15
- Fish and chips £11
- Half-and-half salt and chilli squid and prawns £10
- Fish taco £7.50
- Onion rings £5
- Magic fries £5
