Four of the best dog-friendly places to eat in Durham

At the end of Waddington Street, we have a choice: pub door or woodland path. The dog takes an interest in the path; we follow. Durham’s compact centre can make a day out feel like a succession of climbs, cobbles and negotiations over who will hold the lead while somebody reads a menu. A better plan gives the dog a walk with something to sniff and gives us a table worth coming back to. These four places offer different versions of that arrangement, from a Northumbrian game pie beside Flass Vale to a kimchi toastie in the little café where Flat White began.

1. The Kingslodge Inn

Waddington Street, Flass Vale, Durham DH1 4BG.

We pass the inn first, following the public path into Flass Vale, and let the dog set a slower pace among the trees. The valley is surprisingly large for its little stream. Once, the River Browney flowed this way; deposits left by the last Ice Age blocked its course, sending the river elsewhere and leaving this hollow behind. That is why a walk which begins within reach of Durham’s shops can feel so much more substantial than a lap of a city park. There are slopes and steps, and wet ground in the bottom of the vale. Shoes with a decent tread and a towel for the dog earn their place in the bag.

Returning to the Kingslodge, we wipe paws before going inside and choose a table in the designated dog-friendly part of the pub. The stone floors, high-backed chairs and sofas belong to an establishment expecting people to settle in. Dogs are also allowed in designated restaurant areas; mention yours when booking so the right table is reserved. Water and treats are available, along with Sir Woofchester’s dog food. We put the dog’s mat beside our chair, within reach but out of the route to the next table. After the walk, an indoor table for all of us matters considerably more than the view from a beer garden.

The Northumbrian game pie, £16.95, comes to our table with mash, vegetables and gravy. It is a more interesting starting point than the burger, and a sensible one in an inn whose group runs its own butchery at the Links. The menu identifies lamb, pork and game as locally sourced through that operation. Look a little further down and even the spaghetti Bolognese uses venison and pork. Putting game into a pie or a ragù gives it an everyday role in the kitchen. It is an appealing approach for anyone curious about it but reluctant to commit to an expensive roast. We take a forkful of pie with the mash and keep the accompanying gravy for the potato. The vegetables are included, a small consideration that matters when judging a pub main against one which requires two separately priced sides.

A 175ml glass of Canyon Road Merlot at £5.45 keeps the wine choice straightforward. We leave the larger pour alone; there are still Durham’s hills to negotiate. Those who want something less substantial can use the light-bites menu between 11am and 5pm, Monday to Saturday. The £7.50 falafel ciabatta, with paprika hummus, red-pepper salsa and pickled cucumber, is a vegan lunch with enough substance from the chickpeas and hummus to be worth ordering in its own right. For a vegetarian pie, cheddar, potato and onion costs £15.95, again with the accompaniments included.

Recent customer accounts vary on service and value, a reason to avoid squeezing lunch into a tight gap before a train. The Kingslodge’s appeal lies in the whole outing: the woodland walk, a game pie, and a table where the dog can stay with us as we take our time over the wine. Main meals run from noon until 9pm; book a dog-friendly table, allow time, and give Flass Vale its share of the afternoon.

2. Flat White Café

21a Elvet Bridge, Durham DH1 3AA.

The passage off Elvet Bridge leads us and the dog to Flat White’s original café. The distinction matters. Flat White Kitchen, the larger sister establishment at 40 Saddler Street, has its own menu and arrangements; this is the small coffee shop at 21a, where dogs are welcome inside. There are few tables, and we look for floor space before thinking about where to put our cups. A dog that can fold itself beside a chair has an easier time here than one which needs a broad berth around other customers. We tuck the lead out of the way, sit down and order a flat white.

The café’s name reflects the founders’ own travels. Founders Patrick and Peter grew up and studied in Durham, travelled, trained as baristas in Australia and New Zealand, then returned to jobs at the Gala Theatre and Cinema. They saved for the café while working and did much of the conversion of the old Elvet Pizzeria themselves. It opened in December 2010. The larger Kitchen followed five years later. Sitting in the original, with the dog occupying a considerable proportion of our available floor, we can see the scale of the first undertaking. This was where the pair tested whether Durham shared their appetite for the coffee they had learnt to make abroad.

There is another Australian connection in the cup. The coffee comes from Baristocracy in North Shields, the family business run by Alex Forsyth and Kate Hudson. Forsyth learnt roasting and brewing from his parents at their Sydney café, Forsyth Coffee and Tea. Baristocracy buys through specialist importers working with growers, including smallholders in less familiar producing regions. Flat White describes a six-month training process for its baristas, a considerable investment in the person turning those beans into a drink. We start with the flat white because milk should soften an espresso without burying it beneath a mug of hot milk. Ask which beans are being used that day if you prefer a black coffee and want to explore their character more closely.

A cut through the house-kimchi and mozzarella toastie divides lunch between us; the plate stays well back from the dog’s end of the table. Kimchi, the Korean family of fermented vegetables, brings the acidity that melted cheese needs; mozzarella contributes stretch and mildness rather than trying to compete. It is an intelligent small-café lunch, using a sharp filling to keep a cheese sandwich interesting. The three-cheese version takes another route to the same balance, adding pickled onions to Swiss, smoked cheese and mozzarella. A ham-and-Swiss toastie with dill pickles or the bacon brioche with chilli jam offers something more familiar, while the daily cakes, scones and pastries make a shorter coffee stop possible.

With our coffee finished, it is time to gather the lead. The menu changes, with prices to check in the café; plan on a toastie or baking rather than the full brunch spread associated with the larger Kitchen. Come in a small party, choose a quieter moment if your dog finds close quarters difficult, and keep the correct address to hand. The original opens at 9am Monday to Saturday and 10am on Sunday. Coffee is the reason to seek it out; the toasties make it worth staying for lunch.

3. Riverview Kitchen

20 Silver Street, Durham DH1 3RB.

From Silver Street, we make our way down towards the Wear and choose a table on Riverview’s terrace, close to Framwellgate Bridge. Metal chairs in shades of blue stand against wooden tables; pots crowd around a tree trunk; the bridge’s stone arch occupies more of the view than any café decoration could hope to. We draw our chairs close to the table, leaving a space for the dog beside us, and order coffee. Durham is a city where the view repeatedly asks us to climb for it. Here, we have come down for breakfast, and can look at the river without holding a takeaway cup in one hand and a lead in the other.

The dog has a menu of its own: a sausage at £2.50, dog ice cream at £2 and a £1 puppicino, with water free. We choose water for the dog while making our own rather less restrained decision. Dogs are welcome indoors too, so this is a workable stop beyond terrace weather. The approach from the street involves a descent, and the various routes and steps make access worth checking directly if anyone in the party has difficulty walking. With an elderly dog, that is as relevant as the presence of a bowl. Ask about the easiest way in before committing to the climb back out.

American pancakes with blueberries, maple syrup and vanilla crème fraîche catch our attention: two for £11, or four for £13.50. The extra £2.50 doubles the stack, which is excellent arithmetic only for an appetite twice the size. We choose two, cutting into the stack and taking some of the blueberry topping with each forkful. There are more extravagant arrangements involving brownie, Oreo pieces, Nutella and cream, but the blueberry version leaves the pancake a role in its own breakfast. Crème fraîche has a cultured tang as well as richness; alongside maple syrup, it offers more contrast than another layer of sweet topping. It is the version to choose if you prefer fruit to chocolate at breakfast.

Riverview also gives us a reason to look away from the photogenic stack. Its breakfast stottie, £9, holds a fried egg, two rashers of bacon and hash browns. A stottie is the North East’s round, relatively flat loaf, traditionally baked on the oven floor; its close, chewy crumb makes it useful for containing a substantial filling. The word “cake”, sometimes attached to its name, can mislead a visitor expecting something sweet. At lunchtime the stottie returns with sausage and red-onion marmalade at £10. The breakfast stottie also costs £2 less than the smaller pancake stack, a useful alternative for anyone who wants bacon and egg in bread with more chew than a brioche bun.

For a savoury breakfast with a knife and fork, the £11 eggs Royale puts smoked salmon and hollandaise on sourdough. Veggie and vegan cooked breakfasts are also listed at £15, though the vegetarian symbols on the pancake menu should not be mistaken for vegan ones. Breakfast finishes at noon on weekdays and 12.30pm at weekends; pancakes continue all day. Those times matter if, like us, you can lose half a morning walking the riverbanks with the dog. We finish the coffee with the lead resting across our knees. The terrace gives us a place to linger over the river, while indoor dog access makes the breakfast plan possible when the weather refuses to co-operate.

4. Fat Hippo Durham

36 Saddler Street, Durham DH1 3NU.

We come up Saddler Street with a dog-friendly bar table arranged in advance. Fat Hippo occupies three storeys, but that does not mean three storeys of choice for anyone arriving with a dog: only selected bar tables are available, at the manager’s discretion. Contact the Durham restaurant directly on 0191 370 9699 before booking. There is no outdoor seating to fall back on. Once inside, we settle the dog beside us and put the menu on the table. Uncle Phil and Bruce Almighty appear among the burger names, as though American film and television had been invited to write the menu.

Behind the jokes is a business which began in Jesmond, Newcastle, and reached Durham in 2016. Founder Mike Phillips developed the idea in a university business plan. The supply arrangements are more revealing than the exuberant names. Particularly Good Potatoes, at Turvelaws Farm near Wooler, grows potatoes for the company, with a 23-acre field dedicated to the job. Bakehouse Artisan Bakery supplies the brioche buns. Beef comes through Aubrey Allen, a family butchery business dating to 1933. A field in Northumberland is a reassuringly specific starting point for an order of chips.

The American, £12.90, comes with the hand-cut fries we choose from the included options. It gives the 5oz beef patty American cheese, diced onion, pickles, ketchup and mustard: enough seasoning to make a cheeseburger, with fewer distractions from the meat than some of its neighbours. The beef is aged for 28 days. Ageing allows enzymes to tenderise the meat before cooking; that is a meaningful ingredient choice, though it cannot by itself guarantee the result on every plate. We take the burger in both hands and keep the dog clear of the edge of the table. An extra patty costs £4, a better-directed addition for someone who chiefly wants more beef than a succession of toppings chosen because their names are entertaining.

For anyone coming expressly for excess, the £14.90 Fat Hippo adds bacon, chorizo jam and buttermilk onion rings to beef, cheese and the house sauce. The sweet, porky additions explain why this is a different proposition from the American. We keep our own order simple and drink Camden Hells, £4.80 for a 330ml can. Lager leaves the burger as the substantial part of the meal. Fries or purple slaw come with the burger, so there is no need to order another side simply to make a meal of it.

The meat-free burgers are vegetarian as standard, with vegan versions available on request. Say vegan when ordering rather than assuming a plant patty settles the question of cheese, sauce and bread. Recent vegan customer accounts are encouraging about the choice. The restaurant also publishes an important access limitation: entry is at street level, while the toilets are on the second floor, with no lift. That may decide the matter before anybody starts comparing burgers.

With the dog close to our chair, the selected bar seating suits a sociable animal accustomed to other diners. It offers less scope for finding a distant corner than the Kingslodge. Customer reports of service are uneven, so allow time rather than treating this as a guaranteed quick meal before a performance. Our American, fries and can of lager total £17.70 before any extras. We leave Fat Hippo with a recommendation for a particular outing: a burger in the city centre, a dog happy with close company, and the appropriate bar table booked. The American keeps the bill and the toppings under control; the extra patty remains available to anyone for whom a woodland walk has done more damage to the appetite.