East Village Arts Club food review

Photos: Michelle Roberts

Yep, the building which was formerly known as the Masque has transformed the smallest room of the East Village Arts Club, the bar or Ink for those who’ve spent time there before, into a restaurant/bar which acts separately from the rest of the club’s rooms. Which is bad news for the three way lunacy of the clubnights of yesteryear, but a slab of positivity for those who like to augment their going out experience with food.

Here at Skiddle we’ve done a lot of things in the building previously, having witnessed plays being performed, djed, promoted events, and on far too many occasions to be counted as healthy, partied ridiculously hard there. And that’s just the activities we can print.

The bar has been a particularly welcome safe-haven as well, on certain occasions a chance to catch a breather from the blood and thunder of the other rooms, on others a way to experience an intimate DJ set or live band among a heaving throng. Ask anyone who saw John Peel DJ at Chibuku’s Fourth Birthday, and you’re likely to get your ear chewed off enthusiastically for the best part of an hour about one of the best moments in Liverpool's long and rich clubbing history.

Our first trip to the venue didn’t bode well for the room. Initially there was a slight sterility to the transformation which was at odds with the way that the Theatre and Loft had been shaped. Both those are examples of how to inject a bit of functionality and charm to places with so much emotional resonance for many. We recently caught both Big Daddy Kane and Mystery Jets in the loft and newly tiered Theatre respectively, and left with the feeling they had been improved, whereas the bar for the opening night there was that little thing lacking.

Turns out it was just décor. When we returned for a meal recently the room had evolved nicely from a slightly shallow representation of a heady den of hedonism to a warm and welcoming bar, and the only change we could ascertain was the walls now heaving with decorations compared to an initial barrenness. It probably also helped that the natural light which now bathes the room, completely different from the dingy charm of yore, was less of a shock to eyes well worn to its former glories.

The emphasis is on informality and a feel-good and a hearty menu, so it’s less of an out and out restaurant and more of an informal gateway between eating and the venue’s music purpose. Which certainly sits a lot more comfortably with the building’s legacy.

As does the grub. Food wise we started with the cheese crusted parsnips, which were pretty special when dipped into the accompanying Romesco sauce. Equally moreish was the calamari and Thai mayonnaise, both emblematic of food which tastes just as great at the beginning or end of a weekend session, or on a cheeky lunch break. In fact we bet they taste nice whenever you decide to throw them down your throat.

The chilli followed for the main, again fulfilling the soul food remit perfectly. Any food that both delights and reassures at the same time always gets the thumbs up from these quarters and, as we looked into a characteristically bleak Liverpool spring evening, beautifully timed. The second main course was that little bit jazzier as well, the steak delivering a fantastic riposte for the carnivores, particularly when the bloody juices soaked the chips as well. There are vegetarian options as well, fret not.

And then in the instances of journalistic endeavour we tucked into a pair of desserts, devouring the Baked New Cheesecake and a separate Ice Cream sundae in rapid fashion, despite the initial protest of not being hungry when the waitress brought the dessert menus round. You know how that goes. The drinks as well were great, with us dovetailing between a selection of craft beers and a classy bottle of Merlot.

The verdict? The Arts Club pull off that laid back pub food experience with gusto, the service being great and a modest price range that makes it the perfect choice to kick-start an evening on the tiles. Location wise it couldn’t get any better, but there’s always going to be a certain element of the clientele which will hold a misty-eyed affection for the former glory of the room.

Just as well those walls, now happily adorned with decorations, can’t speak…