It’s dirty, indulgent, lascivious, vulgar and explicit, but more than anything Dirty Bones is entirely unapologetic about its New York vibe, artery clogging menu, mind-blowing cocktails and carnivorous bent.

Until now. Because keeping up with the Jones’s and the ever mobile vegetarian,/vegan bandwagon, the Westgate rooftop restaurant introduced its Moving Mountains meatless ‘bleeding’ burger this month, summing up the entire ethos of the restaurant in one fell swoop.

It obviously didn’t occur to them that some vegans/vegetarians don’t eat meat because they don’t like it.

For Dirty Bones, inventing a veggie burger that looks, smells and even bleeds when you eat it, is therefore genius.

Oxford Mail:

All of which distracts me from the meal itself, because it’s the first time I’ve been to Dirty Bones, wedged between Pho and The Breakfast Club.

It’s fundamentally a comfort food kind of place housed in an impressive, lofty, sexy, relaxed space, framing a vast bar, perfect for lounging, and a chilled out, trendy, insouciant dining room. In short, it’s so chilled its teeth should be chattering.

Starving when we arrived, we immediately ordered the buffalo hot wings (free-range chicken wings tossed in Frank’s hot sauce, spices and a blue cheese dipping sauce) and the obligatory mac balls (£6.50) topped with sweet chilli sauce.

They took a while to arrive, as did all the food, so while the staff were cheery and attentive, the vibe happening and the menu enticing, it did detract from the experience.

In the meantime we enjoyed a cocktail and some £5 shakes, the butterscotch just tasting of vanilla.

The hot wings were hot, not as hot as say at The Rickety Press, but enough to get a good sweat on, and the mac balls crispy on the outside and melting within.

Then the mains, and the ‘bleeding vegan mac daddy burger’ which was as OTT and bawdy as expected.

Oozing with macaroni cheese (vegan mac and cashew ‘cheese’ as it turned out), it was accompanied by a smoky mushroom ‘short rib’ and some espresso-spiked BBQ sauce on a soft bun. And yes it bled, squeezing in the bun just like its meat contemporary, the texture uncannily similar, the colour a slightly fake pink. Taste wise, it was deceptively close, if self-consciously scientific, masking the flavours in BBQ sauce and cashew cheese.

My daughter however, didn’t finish it because it was too like meat. I guess you can’t win them all.

As for the rest of us, the fried chicken tacos with cayenne chilli, topped with lime and pineapple-marinated cabbage, carrot slaw, feta cheese and sour cream were an invigorating purple colour; refreshing, piquant and unusual, if rather alarming.

Oxford Mail:

My yankee dog (£7.50) – a premium pork hot dog with sauerkraut, spring onion, French’s mustard and smoked tomato ketchup on a steamed bun – was brazen in appearance and taste. But I prefer my dogs slightly softer and the skin got caught in my teeth.

The 12-hour braised beef short rib with espresso-spiked BBQ sauce, crispy shallots and spring onions (£18) was epic, the bone flagrantly displayed alongside, defying us to finish it while appealing to our inner caveman. We tried valiantly, but it’s an enormous hunk of meat, albeit tender, flavoursome and satisfyingly lip-smacking, so that only half our party could attempt dessert.

The caramelised banana waffles (£8) were worth the discomfort (with chocolate sauce, blueberry jam, salted peanut butter gelato and crushed nuts on a freshly baked waffle) and we snuck a ‘stickiest’ toffee pudding in as well. The latter was too heavily laced for our liking but the waffles were abandoned, immoral and utterly delicious. Staggering out afterwards, you need to say three Hail Marys, but then Dirty Bones is that kind of place. You just have to give in.

Katherine MacAlister

Dirty Bones,

Westgate Roof Terrace,

Oxford

dirty-bones.com

01865808040