Dirty Blonde’s
Johnny James, Managing Editor
Not, as the name might suggest, one of Blackpool’s questionable gentlemen’s clubs, Dirty Blonde’s is a dive bar and pizza joint that feels more downtown New York than British seaside town.
Tucked down an unassuming alley opposite B&M Bargains (as all good things aren’t), you’d never find this place while idling around on your jollies. But for fans of scuzzy underground drinking dens and lip-smacking pizza, it’s well worth hunting down.
The eager, thirsty beavers we are, we arrive for opening time, welcomed by bar staff who cheerily ask about our day before taking our order. There’s a few Northern breweries on tap, and we go for one of our favourites, Seven Bro7hers, while eyeing up the band stickers, graffiti and neon beer signs that line the walls – all a match for the indie sleaze blaring out of the speakers.
It’s clear this place pops off in the wee hours, but for us, it’s tea time. New York style pizza’s the star of the show here, and there are 11 options to choose from. Happily, half of them are vegan or vegetarian, and we opt for the vegan Dirty Pep with chilli oil. The pepperoni packs a big, punchy flavour that’s akin to the real deal, as is the cheese, which melts perfectly – nothing like those rubbery substitutes that stick to the roof of your mouth.
We also go for a slice of the Texas BBQ, which brings more of that powerhouse flavour, and more of that luxurious crust – crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside. Both are big old slices and a steal for four pounds. There’s also the option of upgrading to fries and a bev for a tenner on weekdays.
Don’t skimp on the sides, either – especially the wings. We opt for the jerk BBQ and cola glaze – sweet spicy, and oh so delicious, balanced by the milder flavours of the mac and cheese, which comes topped with panko breadcrumbs and crispy onions. Pure comfort food that will do absolutely nothing for your waistline but everything for your tastebuds.
In this place, you feel a world away from the dizzy heights of Blackpool, while in reality being minutes’ walk from the prom’s bright lights and bling. Blackpool might be England’s Las Vegas, but we’ll take this little slice of New York.
