The Bulldog’s dark and shadowy space actually looks and feels like an Old English pub — not a nightclub or a cocktail lounge or a fern bar or even the Punch Bowl, which once occupied this spot. It’s a double-barreled shotgun of a room with the long oak bar on one side and rickety, high-backed wooden booths on the other that are devilishly uncomfortable until you get a couple of drinks in you. Out front, there’s a covered patio just big enough for six smokers to stand without bumping elbows. From the kitchen come a variety of simple pub dishes, livened up here and there with hints of Indian and Pakistani cuisine.