Reviews
We sent dog critic Coconut Aranita to Boozy Mutt, the bar and restaurant where pups are prioritized. Here’s what it would look like if the world did go to the dogs.
Boozy Mutt offers food for humans and their doggie friends. / Photograph by Erik Weber
Coconut Aranita is the dog of Philly chefs Kiki Aranita and Ari Miller. As a puppy gourmand and tastemaker, she’s Philly Mag’s expert on all things dog-friendly.
As the doggie daughter of Kiki Aranita and Ari Miller, two chefs who dine out frequently, I have suffered many indignities. I have been stuffed into a backpack while my parents pop into a restaurant to order takeout. I have been left at home while they go out and enjoy themselves without me. I have been tethered to chairs at “dog friendly” establishments, forced to eat my dinner on the floor of a patio … in the winter! Remember: I am a chihuahua. Even on a heated patio, I get cold. And the greatest humiliation of all: I was welcome at neither of my parents’ former restaurants, Poi Dog and Musi.
Imagine my sheer joy when finding out that finally, Philadelphia would have a restaurant that caters to patrons of my ilk, prioritizes us above humans, and is not a dog park!
I know, some dogs love dog parks. But I’m just not a dog park girlie. My parents will drag me to the Schuylkill dog run for “exercise,” and I’ll just sit in their laps or, if I’m feeling frisky, try to escape. Dog parks smell like pee. They don’t have food. They’re not great.
Thankfully, Brewerytown’s Boozy Mutt is not a dog park but a dog bar. It’s kind of like Xfinity Live but for dogs, and Boozy Mutt’s patrons are much better behaved than Xfinity Live’s.
The Boozy Mutt opened in December 2023, but I adhere to fellow critic Pete Wells’s rule of not reviewing a restaurant until it has been open for two months.
On a rainy Monday, my mom and I took an Uber Pet to my Aunt Megan’s house in Fairmount and walked for about 10 minutes to the Boozy Mutt. (It’s easily accessible from Center City.)
All dogs have to pre-register online and upload vaccine info before being let in. Everyone has to be off leash as soon as you pass through a gate that leads into an indoor dining room. From there, you can access an Astroturf covered outdoor dog park lined with colorful Adirondack chairs.
Boozy Mutt / Photograph by Erik Weber
The vibes are immaculate. There’s a heated patio with picnic tables outside, too. Your first visit is free, and cover charges vary according to the day. It’s $10 Monday through Thursday, and $15 Friday through Sunday. Memberships start at $40 per month which gets you full access plus additional perks like discounts on a guest pass and a dog wash.
“Rufferees” keep the peace, separating dogs if they get too up in one another’s business. Tyler, one of the Rufferees had to protect me from a pack of doodles. “It takes a while for some dogs to warm up,” Travis consoled my mom as I flung myself into her arms. I was intimidated by some of the larger dogs, but at 12 pounds, I am tiny! (Okay fine, I might be closer to 13 pounds since I haven’t fully shed my pandemic pound).
The dog menu is about as lengthy as the human menu and all the food is human grade, as it should be. Both dog and human food is served in stylish blue dog bowls, which made it mildly confusing for Aunt Megan and my mom — but not for me, since all food is mine anyway. Prepare yourself for more dog puns on the menu than you ever thought possible.
There’s an extensive beer and “whine” list, as well as mocktails that my human companions raved about, namely the “Dog Daze” and “Pup Swizzle.” They were both gingery, made in-house and garnished generously with dried pineapple that slowly re-hydrated so that their drinks became more infused with pineapple as the night wore on. I wanted them to get the “Chi-wawa” cocktail for obvious reasons, but they muttered something about it being Dry February, which I didn’t know was a thing.
Since it was a Monday, it was dollar dog night and the humans got some magnificent looking hot dogs smeared with cheese (that they inexplicably didn’t share with me) and an utterly perfect (according to them) shaved Brussels sprout Caesar salad. “All salads should be made with shaved Brussels sprouts,” Aunt Megan said. They also got some chicken skewers they didn’t like very much but prompted them to remark that they were impressed everything was clearly made from scratch.
Dog critic Coconut Aranita sharing food with her human companions. / Photograph by Kiki Aranita
I loved my coconut-oil-dipped chicken nuggets. (Yes, I love coconut; no, that doesn’t make me a cannibal.) I couldn’t eat my peanut butter balls (I can’t eat peanut butter when I’m skittish, don’t ask me why), though my mom tasted them to make sure it was me and not them. The portion sizes were perfect for chihuahuas and reasonably priced (between $4 and $6) so that you could order a bunch of small plates and not ruin your dog’s diet. I’ve written about dog menu portion sizes at various locations in Philly before, and they’re so inconsistent. At the Boozy Mutt, you are basically ordering dog tapas.
I was feeling a little antisocial, so I ordered via one of the QR codes taped to the napkin dispenser and I gave a pseudonym for my food order — “Walnut,” just like Craig LaBan would at a restaurant he was reviewing. To maintain my journalistic integrity, I made sure to pay for my own meal (with my mom’s credit card).
The space is enormous — 6,500 square feet! And miraculously, it doesn’t smell like pee at all. There’s a private room that can be rented out for adoptaversaries and birthday parties and all the walls are covered in inspirational quotes like “It’s treat-o’clock somewhere” and “Big Mutt Energy.”
I ask Aunt Megan, “Would you come here without a dog?”
“No, that’s like going to a playground without a child, but less creepy,” she responds.
After my initial visit to the Boozy Mutt, I conduct a phone interview with Allison Mattiola, who owns the business with her husband, Sam. After exchanging some pleasant arfs, we get down to business. “Have you considered separating small and large dogs?” I ask her, thinking back on the doodles that surrounded me.
“Yes, we’re still thinking about it some capacity,” she responds. She also tells me about the safety protocols they have in place, like increasing the number of Rufferees when they have private events, and empowering them to ban dogs who behave badly.
When I suggested she ban doodles, she says she didn’t consider breed restrictions as “we wanted our space to be inclusive for people and dogs.” Their membership program, with its waivers and guidelines, help them keep the peace and keep the jerks out. Remember, when you go to the Boozy Mutt, you’re still responsible for your dog.
Boozy Mutt / Photograph by Erik Weber
I ask Allison one of my mom’s burning questions: “How on earth did you finagle this with the health department?”
She laughs and says that there are some trade secrets involved, but she worked in tandem with the health department long before construction started, to make sure they had their blessing.
Allison also makes a few important points — you can enjoy the Boozy Mutt in inclement weather, whereas you’re not going to take your dog to the dog park in the rain. In fact, you can’t take me outside when it’s raining at all. I will fight you. She emphasizes, “You don’t need to own a dog to enjoy the Boozy Mutt. Puppy love is always free.” Well, my love will cost you a chicken nugget and a baby carrot, but other puppy love is probably free.
The Mattiolas have given the city an incredible gift with the Boozy Mutt. I don’t have to ever be stuffed into a godforsaken backpack and my mom doesn’t have to smell dog pee. It’s dog heaven, except, well, everyone is very much alive. Aside from Bark Social in Manayunk there aren’t many places like this in Philly. I asked my mom if we could move to Fairmount, but she said no. So I asked Allison if she would open a Boozy Mutt in Grad Hospital, where we live. She said maybe.
