Over the years I have found myself becoming more and more sceptical when it comes to the bold claims made by restaurants promising to reinvent, reinterpret, or otherwise produce some kind of twist on a classic. Classics are classics for a reason, mess with them at your peril.

Similarly, alarm bells start to sound whenever a menu promises a ‘luxury’ version of a relatively humble dish – be that the hamburger, the pizza or, in this case, the hot dog. The cynic in me instantly assumes the ‘luxury’ implied here will be the luxury of the proprietor leaving my wallet significantly lighter than it was when I crossed the threshold.

Which brings us to the subject of today’s review, The Naughty Dog at Lympne Castle, near Hythe. In 2023, the castle was snapped up by Ann Kaplan Mulholland, a former star of reality TV show Real Housewives of Toronto, and her husband Stephen. The PR in the lead-up to the launch of their latest venture at the historic estate promised a menu centred around ‘haute dogs’, a fancy spin on the all-American classic.

Now, I love a hot dog, I really do. In fact I once devoured four or five in a single afternoon, which sounds appallingly gluttonous, but in my defence they were $1 a throw at a minor league hockey game in the States – I was not going to turn down value like that, no sir. Frankfurter, pillowy white bun, splash of ketchup and mustard, liberal sprinkling of onions – as I say: classic, perfect and extremely moreish.

So I rolled up to The Naughty Dog on a Saturday afternoon with an empty stomach, ready to sate my hunger with a blow-out lunch, determined to see how on earth the kitchen was going to take this Stateside staple to new heights.

Entry to the restaurant is through an absolutely delightful little courtyard garden, tables set out among olive trees strung with lights. Inside is a large bar, around which are plenty of large tables which would definitely suit big groups of friends and family. The ancient stonework of the castle is complemented by a high-end finish, although the canine theme might be a tad overdone in places.

I was soon seated and left to pore over the menu. There is a breakfast selection on offer until midday, the aforementioned ‘haute dogs’, and a selection of salads, seafood and sides. I was dining alone, but still wanted to get a decent feel for the menu, so I ordered a little more than was strictly necessary (says the five-dog afternoon guy).

With no particular ‘haute dog’ jumping out at me, I opted for the aptly-named ‘I Can’t Decide’ beef hot dog (£14), which would be served with ‘special’ sauce, cheese, lettuce, pickles and onions. On the side I went for a portion of garlic fries (£4.50) and a serving of mac and cheese balls (£6.95).

So, do you want the good news or the bad news? Let’s get the good news in first. The mac and cheese bites were the highlight, texturally spot on with a lovely crisp coating and a moist filling, if not lacking the really cheesy kick you might have hoped for.

The fries were also good, cut just right, and cooked perfectly. My only criticism – and I suppose it’s quite a big one – being the underwhelming amount of garlic. If I order garlic fries, I want to be walking out with breath that could see off vampires.

And now, the bad news. I had just agreed to stump up the not-insignificant sum of £14 for a hot dog (don’t get me started on the £24 wagyu beef option) and I was ready to be blown away. Reader, I was not. As the old parenting cliche goes, I was not angry, just disappointed.

The ‘dog’ itself was not at all what I had expected. Encased in a blackened skin - that perhaps provided early visual warning that all was not well within - was a filling of bone dry, coarsely minced beef.

I am prepared to concede that this may be a style of hot dog I was hitherto unaware of, but I’m afraid it came across like some product of an unholy union of a sausage and a burger. In fact, it reminded me of those rather sad supermarket kofta kebabs that always seem to be leftover after a barbecue, and it had all the joy of one you consume hungover the next morning.

I gamely pressed on with further mouthfuls, looking in vain to the sauce and toppings to provide some much-needed lubrication. The rather insipid ‘secret sauce’ was no match for the beef, sadly, and its secrets were a mystery I felt no great desire to unravel.

All in all a crushing disappointment, I am afraid to say. As I pushed aside the remnants of the hot dog, I was left with a nagging question: who on earth is this place aimed at?

Gourmet interpretations of street food classics are all the rage (see my point about lighter wallets), but why on earth would you even choose to serve up hot dogs – ‘haute’ or otherwise – in this historic setting, well off the beaten track, and at prices that suggest a desire to attract a more well-heeled clientele?

I am prepared to accept that it might be early days for this place, and things might improve as it finds its feet in time. The new owners of Lympne Castle have certainly put their money where their mouth is and seem determined to make their purchase of the historic property a success – for themselves, their guests and the wider community.

But classics are classics for a reason, so style-over-substance interpretations are often doomed to fail. I came hoping for best in show, but left feeling like I’d been sold a pup.

Ratings out of five:

Food: It had its moments, but if you’re going to promise ‘haute dogs’ with a price to match then you have to do a lot better than this **

Drink: No alcohol licence at the time of our visit, £3.50 for a Coke Zero which was exactly like any other Coke Zero ***

Decor: The sun-trap garden is lovely, and the interior is nicely finished. If embroidered cartoon dogs are your thing, you’ll love it ***

Staff: The very young front of house staff were friendly and service was prompt and polite ****

Price: There was little evidence here to justify a £14 hot dog, and you’d certainly have to be feeling flush to upgrade to a £24 version, wagyu or no wagyu **