Every Dog has Its Café

Last week, I found myself in Wayne PA, famous for an enormous mall, the King of Prussia. As one might expect, dining options around a mall are mostly large chains, though upscale. These were, regretfully, attended as the training I was there for lasted from 8:30am-6:00pm with few breaks. I was wiped at the end of the day and had work to catch up on, so it wasn’t until Thursday that a co-worker and I went out to celebrate the completion of a 4-hour mock exam at a local favorite. Admittedly though, White Dog Café was only 6 minutes down the road.

As the name implies, the interior of White Dog is covered in pictures, statues, drawings, and renditions of dogs of every variety. The furniture is antique, and no two booths or table settings look quite the same. We sat in what would be a lovely sunroom if it was not 10 degrees outside and already dark.

With the crusty bread and honeyed butter came an amuse buche, compliments of the chef. Served in a spoon, the rye crouton was topped with a creamy potato salad that had finely chopped onion and tiny capers. The one bite was crunchy, creamy, and slightly sour, leaving us craving the warmth of our appetizers.

The Kennet Square mushroom soup was created with truffle crème fraiche, the mushrooms were pureed but there was enough texture left to have to chew each mouthful. It was thick and heavy, without making you feel like you were eating a bowl full of butter.

My appetizer was the mussels. Served in a large bowl, the black-shelled beauties were swimming a bright red broth of caramelized onions, swiss chard and Spanish chorizo. The spicy Spanish sausage was ground to a looser consistency and almost dissolved into the broth, which was fine by me as I mopped up the dregs with the aforementioned crusty bread after divesting each mussel of its shell.

I order the charcuterie plate as an entrée. The server was able to rattle off each meat, cheese, and accoutrement. While I wasn’t able to repeat everything back, nor did I take notes, I can tell you that the pickled purple onions were both sweet and sour, they paired well with the bresaola and a slight smear of the coarse ground mustard, while the wild boar pate actually tasted better with the fig compote rather than the local blue or cheddar cheese. The prosciutto was best on its own and I used the cornichons as a palette cleanser between bites.

My dining partner had the pasta covered in a chunky green pesto, big slices of sun dried tomatoes, thick pieces of shrimp and soft calamari. Each piece of the dish could have been enjoyed on its own, but combined the flavors enhanced one other. We were glad we only got the ½ size, we would have eaten the full.

To top the meal off, we indulged in a cheesecake, topped with brandy poached apples that were shaved and artfully twirled about the top of the heavy cake. The plate was dotted with rich dulche de leche which we smeared onto each bite of the cheesecake. A lovely ending to a truly exhausting week.