Well, it’s not really called Ding Dong, but it IS called Din Don, and that’s close enough for me. Puts me in mind of an expression I learned in Australia to describe a pitched sporting contest – a ‘ding dong battle’. Ahhhh, the fun we had, with the kangaroos hopping gaily about, and the utes, and the beer! Happy times.
Ding Dong is less happy. In fact, since the theme is ‘meats served in cow-shaped skillets’, you would reasonably guess that the atmosphere is at once male, beefy, and a little desperate.
Those skillets come in a few varieties – burgers, chicken or fried stuff (oysters or shrimp). With different sauces (curry, demiglace, mustard). It’s not totally mix-and-match; a few things are missing from the matrix of potentialities, but you shouldn’t miss them much. I had a demiglace sauce burger, which came with a bunch of fried onions on top and was tasty, juicy, and half-glaced. It was actually pretty good. And it came with a pile of mashed potatoes, a little mound of pasta, and a big plate of white rice. Japan. My dining companion (we’ll call him Big Willie, but it’s unlikely he’ll ever appear again) had chicken with mustard sauce; a good deal less refined than it sounds, but he seemed to like it.
The whole place feels a little urgent in a smokey, testosteronal way, but that’s not a bad thing when your focus is on wolfing down an oddly-flavored sauce burger.
Check it out!
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