The Sun in Camberwell - Resurected for the summer - AUG 2013

Pubs are difficult things... The Camberwellians among you may remember the kerfuffle when the previous management team were unceremoniously dumped out of the Sun and Doves as was. They fought the tied pub co. and (unsurprisingly) the tied pub co. won.

It was a decent enough boozer, with community outreach aspirations, generic beers, fairly unforgettable grub and a regular film night. The medics from the local hospital who occupied it were friendly enough as long as you didn't try and compete in the hardest quiz night in the area.

When the previous management were finally (and brutally) removed, they stripped all of 'their' renovations out with them; fixtures, fittings, wall coverings and bar kit. Looking at the reopened bar, the new tenants have done a pretty good job of, well, leaving it in exactly the same condition. The decor and furniture takes stripped back shabby chic to a new level, this one barely one step up from squat party. As Camberwell is the new wherever achingly hip we're supposed to be, they've pitched it perfectly.

The beer and wine choices are as pedestrian as before, but the menu has been given a spruce. Loosely defined as the kind of gutsy, hearty pub fare you've seen bothering a thousand kilner jars on a thousand wooden chopping boards before.

A muted quinoa and roast vegetable salad was undoubtedly healthy, but as beige a dish in all senses of the word as you could find. As quiet as an unpopular 20 year old's house party and as instantly forgettable.
  

 
The lack of oomph sadly extended to a woefully under-powered bavette steak, its normally rich and meaty tang entirely missing in action. It was such an under seasoned tasteless piece of meat that it was virtually eclipsed by its side of cold and over cooked chips, god knows what would have happened if it had come with anything as flavoursome as a Bearnaise...

The thought is definitely there, burgers and sandwiches are perfectly acceptable and generally it's a fine looking classic pub menu, but it doesn't live up to the promise, which is a shame. That being said, it's a pub, not a restaurant, so if you're looking for a quick bite alongside a couple of drinks with friends then take advantage of their lovely beer garden, an excellent selection of tunes and remind yourself that it's who you're with that really matters.

 

Dukes Brew and Cue and MEATmission - The Hipster Diaries - Dec 2012

This month, I'm mostly loving the Hipster Express. The whizzy new London Overground train line delivering Camberwell casuals into the dark beating heart of hip Hoxton since, well, Sunday last..

In less than 25 minutes I can be surrounded by all the skinny jeaned architects, students and wanna be design agency head honchos I could ever possibly need. Like exotic aeroplane trips that take you from the safe and known before dropping you unprepared into new and exciting worlds, the new Gingerline has thrown me into the mean streets of Dalston, with no chance to acclimatise from Peckham's green and verdant lands.

And the reason for this unprecedented exploration? Food of course…

Now we may have been travelling to (culturally) the other side of the world, but they still have to eat in Hoxton we scoffed nervously on the tube. Don't they? We'd soon find out.

MEATmission
Day one delivered us to the new home of a former Peckham resident, possibly the equivalent of eating pizza in Shanghai, but I wanted to ease myself in to the local cuisine gently. Much has been written about the might MEAT burger-based empire (some of it by me) and as I've just promised not to write about burgers again, I won't say anything about them, other than they are as you'd expect and hope.

Once you get over the most ambitious of their spaces, a wonderfully deconsecrated Welsh Mission chapel with a Gilbert & George inspired backlit ceiling, you'll be straight into a broadly as expected MEATmenu. The burgers are there, the sides are there and the cocktails are lurking with faint menace.

Not seen before and worthy of note were the Monkey Fingers, thickly battered strips of chicken doused in a hot and vinegary sauce, like boneless buffalo wings, served with a (too) mild blue cheese sauce. We continued onto sodden white submarine rolls filled with succulent slow roast beef and gravy. This was cheap and cheerful wonder-food, tasting like the white bread you'd use to soak up the last of the gravy at a resolutely home style Sunday lunch. Hellishly unhealthy, mopping up the accompanying dish of gravy with salty skinny chips, but after a couple of cocktails truly the food of gods.


Duke's Brew & Cue
Further north, the illuminating light of the Overground has touched parts other gentrifiers couldn't reach and brought hipsters and prosperity (or possibly only hipsters) to Haggerston. I've been assured that there's more to the area than a fixie bike shop and an espresso bar but that was by a man with a handlebar 'tache leaving me dubious to say the least.

The rough wood panelling of Duke's Brew & Cue (in recent history almost certainly a much less salubrious drinking hole) surrounds a new to the location micro-brewery cum bar cum restaurant. It's like a million and one Williamsburg hangouts (Fette Sau in Brooklyn is definitely one of their inspirations) and is currently still a massive hit with the locals. Even on a rain drenched Wednesday early, early evening we only just managed to squeeze into one of the unreserved bar tables.

I've been a couple of times, once for a so-so brunch and a pretty reasonable (and gargantuan) burger, the second for ribs.. As you'd expect with a name like Brew & Cue, you're only really here for the ribs.

We split two orders of the home smoked ribs, one beef and one pork. This was seemingly what most of the place was doing so I'm unsure why they don't offer that as a menu option. Beef ribs sadly were sadly cooked too hot, too quick for me. The well flavoured meat was cut through with just too many strands of hard, unyielding fat to make it as easy as it should have been to stripmine the bone of every juicy morsel. The pork ribs were much better, coming with a lovely deep flavoured meat and nutty hard bones to gnaw.

Sides were a mixed bag too. A cheap and cheerful mac'n'cheese didn't try to compete with the richness of the ribs, complementing them perfectly with a comforting blandness, house fried pickles and okra were just bad. Reminicent of the sort of deep fried generic vegetable sides you'd get in a Harvester or a Toby Steakhouse.

The food promised so, so much. In reality, it delivered some. As a place to hang out with locals, it comes as a strong recommendation. The bar staff were also excellent, though the servers a little harried. The cocktails are great and the brews on tap are also well recommended, strong, punchy and self assured. It's a shame that the kitchen doesn't quite live up to it.

 The roof of MEATmission... try looking at that after too many Peckham Negronis...

    A very bad shot of some ribs... blow it, you know what ribs look like...

Burger off… Dec 2012

On a recent trip to the States, my hotel was near the Upper West Side Shake Shack. I nipped in on the way back from a meeting as there was no queue at 4 in the afternoon. I had one. It was a well prepared, flavoursome, well cooked burger. With cheese. And on a cold, depressing New York afternoon it made me as happy as only a moist fatty meat product covered in cheese and dripping with juice can. However I've also come to the conclusion that there's not much more you can say about the damn things.

It feels appropriate to reach that conclusion in one of Danny Meyer's earliest outposts. After all, Shake Shack has been one of the biggest brands in the American gourmet burger scene since the Madison Square original opened in 2004. And when it comes to London next year, the city will likely reach the sort of frothing fever pitch not seen since the Beatles. (Look at the evidence)

Now I like a burger as much as (hell, much more than) the next man, but I've reached my limit of writing about them. In the last year, London has been swamped in special secret sauce, covered several times over by steamed or brioche buns and beaten almost to death with a variety of soft meat patties. We get it. We really do.

In summary, here are the rules:

• If they don't ask how you want it cooked, or can't serve it below medium, then it doesn't bode well 
• The new wave London chains of Honest, Byron, Burger & Lobster and the various outposts of the MEATempire are generally pretty good 
• Independents (or nascent chains) such as Patty and Bun and Lucky Chip often achieve rabid followings but there will always be low grade impostors such as BRGR (just bland..) seeking to jump on the beef scented bandwagon 
• The Gourmet Burger Kitchen is poor, as is Ed's Diner (and anywhere else calling itself a Diner for that matter) 
• There are a handful of decent pub and restaurant burgers (Chelsea's Admiral Coddrington being the best) but they tend to get pricy 
• The 'secret' burger at Joe Allen has been around for longer than all of them and is the thing I want to eat on Death Row before they wheel the gurney in 
• If you go to New York or Miami then Shake Shack is good (though comes with a ludicrously long queue), if you get to the West coast then you have to try In'n'Out 
• If you ever contemplate Maccy D and you're not either very drunk, or very hungover then please just walk away from me now. 

Other than that, it ends here.

  

Can the Rye satisfy? Not on this showing - July 2012

A semi local of mine for a number of years has had it's most dramatic reinvention, from ugly local duckling to fully fledged gastro pub.

The owners, Capital Pub Co, are no newcomers to the market and (although owned by boozy behemoth Greene King) have form in taking down at heel sites and creating the kind of interesting, smart spaces that upwardly mobile locals don't mind spending their bucks in. They've certainly done it with near neighbours the Victoria, the Florence and the Actress, none of which I object to wasting time in at all. 

Walking into the handsome Victorian space, there's an initial sense that the design team may have done it again. A bustling bar opens onto an extensive beer garden. The big open plan kitchen and a light airy space already full of Dulwich refugees would indicate the design team at least can award themselves another tick.

That being said, there's definitely a lot of settling in to do here. Both behind the bar and on the other side of the pass. If you're going to put burgers on the menu in the former site of a Meatwagon pop up then you'd better make sure that they're blood(il)y good. On examination, these are poor at best. A jerk chicken burger is a neat nod to nearby Rye Lane, but this verged on anaemic. If there was any seasoning to it at all it was a light dust that did nothing for the dry breast. 

The too solid, too gray steak burger came without the cheese ordered (at an extra quid) but after a 50 minute wait we didn't send it back. Buns were workmanlike and nothing to write home about. Neither burger was hideous, but there was definitely an air of disinterest about them. Accompanying chips were prepped like mini skinless roasties but had spent too little time in direct heat and glistened, pale and uninteresting, on a cliched chopping board. Bread and olive oil was frankly random. The oil and (very cheap) balsamic came served in a tiny teacup, necessitating drowning the bread in oil to get any balsamic. We didn't finish it, they didn't ask why...

Service is another area of early concern. It's hurried, harried and amateur, if at least charming. A perpetual bugbear of mine, none of the staff knew who was next, picking punters at random and raising the temperature the other side of the counter. Despite there being four behind a not very busy bar, we still had a ten minute wait. Guys, you've got some really competent staff in the group, surely you could have shipped a couple in and not had an entire crew of newbies on at a new pub? 

Sure it's a local boozer, and they've only been open a few weeks, but I think it's a fair comment if you're going to charge me £17 for two glasses of wine and a lager, and push food out at Michelin prices in Peckham. Admittedly the pricing is Arbutus rather than Ducasse but the point still stands.

Despite this, I know I'll be back. It's close by, convenient for mates and the allotment and I hope it will settle down, but they need to really up their game on this showing.

   

An updated review of Byron burgers in Covent Garden - June 2012

The Burgerman cometh

Since I first reviewed Byron, I've been a fairly frequent visitor to what is now frankly a substantial chain of 23 branches across the capital and counting.

Every time I go back there's a light trepidation. Every new site I try there's a little fear. Will this be the point they jump the shark?

Thankfully not it would seem. And I've even tried to catch them out with a Saturday early dinner in the Westfield Shopping Centre branch.

There's a constant level of innovation on the menu; most recently with the 'Chilli Queen', a collaboration with the Admiral Coddrington's Fred Smith. Other than  the semi-regular specials they have a classic, cheese, cheese and bacon, chicken or veggie variants. It's clear what they master in and they don't try anything special. They've also focussed on the beers, introducing a short but solid craft ale menu to go alongside. 


Most importantly they get the fundamentals right. The burgers are tasty, fresh and well prepared to a consistent quality. Sides are high quality, grease free and tasty. The staff are universally happy, attentive and well drilled and the spaces while different are all clean and decorated to a similar simple formula.


All in, a chain I'm delighted to see growing and growing. Assuming the standards remain as high as they have I'll keep coming back on a regular basis.


And my first review from mid 2010, the Wellington Street restaurant is still the one I go back to most often...

Where: Byron Hamburger, Covent Garden
With who: Roger the Dodger
How much: £15 a head for the Byron Burger, fries and a chilled bottle of Peroni


I've been semi-resisting this one for a while. I hate to say it, but I thought that there may be a few too many burger reviews around at the moment. To be honest, I always thought there were few bigger burger fans than me, until I started writing me blog and realised that I was a rank amateur. I've mentioned it before, but have a look at A Hamburger Today if you want to understand true obsession. 


The Dodger and I had a pleasant afternoon meeting over a couple of beers (I love my job sometimes) and decided to grab a bite before heading off. In a sheep like tourist packed strip of chain restaurants running along the arse of Covent Garden towards the Strand, Byron doesn't initially stand out. It's a fairly substantial chain of its own now, ten restaurants strong stretching from Kingston to Canary Wharf. Despite my misgivings of chain restaurants generally, I have to admit that Byron appears to be really rather quite good. It's a clean, tiled room with church hall style chairs and basic decor. There's a cavernous space downstairs that I hope fills out regularly.


It was a quick bite, post and prior to a few beers. I went for the Byron Burger and courgette fries. Never having had courgette fries, I was pleasantly surprised. Soft and juicy courgette strips, in a light and crispy batter. Perfect. The burger was cooked medium, with a beautiful pink colour. The charred flavour I was hoping for only came through in the last last few mouthfuls but it was there, and it was good. There was a nice tang to the cheese, though the bacon was a little thick and came away in lumps. 


UPDATE - Byron Soho Sept 2010
The old Intrepid Fox on Wardour Street was a proper dive pub. Full of bikers, rockers and various other ner-do-wells, listening to rock music. Dingy, black and somewhere you could always get a pint. I was deeply saddened when it went the way of the developers.
And when they announced plans for a gourmet fast food restaurant underneath the luxury city centre flats I shrugged sadly and composed eulogies to old Soho.. So I was pleasantly surprised when it turned into a Byron. Service is as friendly as the others, food just as good, if not a little better. Maybe there is hope for Soho yet.

MEATmarket - Fast food tales 1 of 3 - May 2012

So it looks like Yanni Papoutsis is coming over all Russell Norman.... Not in the way that frotting filthy resto fan kids might dream about thankfully, but with the launch of another guaranteed hit. A newly acquired space refitted out of the blue that feels perfectly in fitting with its surroundings and makes you wonder how you (or another savvy restaurateur) hadn't found it before.

Let me set the record straight. This isn't an obvious space for a restaurant. It's not an obvious space for anything. It's the echoey, almost open to the elements balcony over Covent Garden's tat-tastic Jubilee Market. Feyne Deining it ain't, but it's a perfect dirty spot for a dirty burger.

The brains behind MEATwagon, MEATeasy and MEATliquor serve up 3 or 4 different double burgers, a brace of pimped hot dogs and a 50's rockabilly tattooed handful of sides are on offer. Simple enough and satisfying enough.

The bun holding the mustard fried Dirty Hippy (house speciality and tribute to the best burger on the planet) is a little lighter than before... I can't explain it, but something has changed. Not for the bad, but different. It survives, just, the onslaught of the sloppy sauce - dripping as seductively as a trickle of hot meat fat can. The taste of the sloppy patty is, as always, superb. I'd injure children to get one of these. Cheese and Jalapeno poppers are tiny spicy croquettes of fried. Perfectly acceptable, but nothing more than a distraction from the main meat, something I've felt about the sides in every iteration from MEATcorporation.

It's not immediately clear who MEATmarket is really aimed at. Is it a greasy, meaty lunchtime standfast for the hipster locals? A tourist tick or one of London's new foodie landmarks? I think that it's somewhere you'll hit up on an evening, after a few drinks in town, when the market has gone to sleep and the rock and roll meat purveyors can let their hair down.

    

How to burger up lunch - The Angel and Crown - Apr 2012

Like a sad bottomy fart, my expectations slowly exhaled as I had it proved to me again why lunch can all to often be a gastronomic graveyard if you pick restaurants incorrectly. And, like the elegant cougar from the night before revealed in the cold harsh spring sunshine, there are just some places that obviously don't deliver in the daylight. 

Owned by the group behind a range of solid enough gastropubs with reasonable reputations elsewhere in the capital, I can only assume that the Chef, the manager and indeed everyone bar the kitchen porter of the Angel and Crown were on a group bonding session somewhere a long, long way away when I popped in on a Tuesday lunchtime.

Just across from the Noel Coward on St Martin's Lane is prime tourist territory and no doubt teeth clenchingly high rent, but neither are reason for the proprietors of recently refurbished pub dining room to charge me £13 for one of the most depressing burgers I've eaten in a long time. Described as a 'Dexter beef burger', it was a woeful embarrasment of a meal and the sort of bovine abuse you'd expect from an Aberdeen Angus, Garfunkels or Scotch Steakhouse.

My friend Simon is the rightfully proud owner of the world's smallest Dexter beef herd, having two of the little blighters. The oldest, named charmingly by his carnivorous kiddies as Burger, deserves a better end than the poor Dexter that had contributed to the grim patty on my plate. I have a feeling Simon would rather set them free to take their own chances than let them turn up like this.

Requested medium rare, it trickled pale juice but consisted of gray meat throughout with no char, sweetness or indeed real taste. The dense clag of over handled preparation made the thick single note mortuary slab a trial to eat. It lingered thankfully little on the palate but squatted in my gut for the remainder of the day like an ill mannered toad at the bottom of a pond.

The roll felt either frozen or forgotten, either way brittle, hard and inedible, crumbling by the wayside. The chips had a whiff of the Maccy D's about them and came served with two wafer thin slices of gherkin and a tasteless watery beef tomato slice.

I'm not going to bother describing the standard decor of the empty upstairs dining room or the amiable staff, both were fine. I just want to tell my salutary patty based tale and get this memory over and done, consigning it to the bin of disappointment in the depths of my cerebellum, pulling it out dustily if anyone suggests trying this place.   

                           

Another bite of Brixton Market - Feb 2012

As a little foodie cluster, Brixton Village has more than enough ethnic treats to satisfy even the most diverse of foodie. The main problem will be deciding what to go for. Personal highlights include the excellent Honest Burger, Franco Manca (the slew of other, newer openings have thankfully made seats here easier to come by) and Federation's excellent coffee. 

There's a pleasant mix developing between new and old Brixton. The newly opened food stalls complement the peacock finery of the African clothes stores and feel at home alongside the butchers and veg stalls elsewhere. A soundtrack of dub, reggae and itinerant street preacher permeates and there's thankfully little sign of the depressing corporate homogeneity that has neutered Spitalfields, Borough, Camden and the other markets. Brixton does it differently.

Mama Lam is another often mentioned treat, more an appeterif than a main meal, they do a selection of freshly made Chinese jiaozi or potsticker dumplings, a couple of other fried lovelies and intense, flavoursome noodle soups. The tiny outdoor tables are a trial in the winter so grab a place at the counter and watch their Chinese mama deftly roll and fill the little dough parcels, poached then crisped off over hot heat. Fillings include beef, pork and vegetables, five satisfying and fresh buns will set you back a few quid.

A rarer street food is served at Okan, big hearty pancakes from Osaka called Okonomiyaki. Hefty, hearty giant rosti cakes, made with a cabbage and noodle base held together with a sloppy batter, served with a variety of umami rich toppings and fillings. They taste better than they sound and the theatre of them being prepared on their sizzling short order grill is both evocative and famishing...

As well as the three or four places mentioned recently, there are a number of South American places I've subsequently noticed now on my list, a good looking Thai, jerk stalls (though I have my Peckham affinities here) and a selection of other bakeries, grills and goodies alongside non food related retailers old and new school. The continual evolution and ad hoc nature of the place will hopefully bring new places to the market to sink or swim based on satisfaction rather than longevity of lease or depth of corporate pocket.

The finished product

 Looking in at Mama Lam

And the resultant pot stickers

The last meal of the year - Honest Burger, Brixton - Dec 2012

The last review of the year. It could only really be a burger right? And this one was a long shot. I've tried and failed to get a seat here before (and I really can't queue, especially not for fast food...) Luckily enough, I found myself with a hunger, in Brixton Market, at just the right time...

Rough and ready doesn't come close to describing the friendly little hole in the wall, at 12:10 it's already on the way to fullness, before my meat materialises it's standing room only. Interior decor is minimal, and that's being kind, though they've got the fundamentals - a scattering of tables, a small grill and a beer fridge... What more do you need? They don't have a lot on the menu after all. As you'd expect from the name, it begins, and ends, with burgers.

Alongside a portion of triple cooked rosemary salted chips, lunch arrives served in 40's enamel trays, a nod to the austerity of the design perhaps. I was briefly tempted by the festive special, venison sausage topped, but feel I have to go for the trademark Honest Burger, served a recommended medium. The dark beef aged chuck patties, flecked with fat, are pressed onto the grill to order, tiny cloches added at the last to steam the cheese into the meat. In a space this small, the smell is mildly intoxicating and certainly enough to have me salivating before it arrives.

The burger is good. Very good. A well formed cricket ball of chopped steak nearer to med-rare than medium - certainly not something I have a problem with. The glazed brioche bun gives the right amount of support, iceburg lettuce adds a welcome crunch and the tangy cheese, a cheddar in this instance, is (correctly) sparingly applied and combines well with the sweetness of the meat. The chips were a little over cooked for me, too much cooking for thin chips, it made them feel like they could have been reheated. My only other gripe was with the sliced gherkin served inside the bun, something I'm really not a fan of, but hardly enough to call for a boycott.

Don't come with any hope of getting a table for more than 2, it's almost impossible to wrangle a spot for larger groups in the packed lunchtime session. Still, there are plenty of other food options in the buzzy market hall community that's gradually opening up in Brixton Market. Is it a competitor to the big boys of Byron and Meatliquor's burger king Yannis? It's difficult to say. The burger is excellent, (if not quite up there with the Meatwagon's legendary Dead Hippie) but it feels like a labour of love, very much suited for the tiny space.. They're doing well at the moment though, and if they keep their standards up, long may it continue.
 

Joe Allen - the theatrical old trooper of Covent Garden - Oct 2011

Where: Joe Allen, Exeter Street, Covent Garden
With who: The Daddy and Mr Pipes
How much: You're going to top £40 a head for 2 courses and drinks, though 'that' burger and chips is sub £15 all in...
Come here if: you can't get into The Ivy but want to hang out with the theatrical crowd.

There are a number of places I've been reticent to talk about. Not necessarily places with food hipster cred that I don't think you're cool enough for, but places I associate some form of insider ownership over, no matter how misguided or loose the connection. One such place is Covent Garden's Joe Allen. Still ludicrously popular with the staff of theatreland, it was such a go to at one point that I knew, and was known to, most of the front of house team by name. The popularity of that crowd comes with from the late performer-friendly hours, the proximity to the theatres of Covent Garden and the now famous 'secret' burger, allegedly designed to allow hard-up actors to eat with their wealthier friends post show.

Descend down the dark staircase into the basement space, bare brick walls covered in West End folio posters from shows currently on and those that are 30 year old. It's comfortable, clubby and always busy. Grab a drink at the long bar and listen to Jimmy the pianist hit a range of showtune standards on late week nights.

The menu is a dogs dinner of vague Americana and 70's oddities. It's hardly a thing of beauty, but guests can chose from a mash-up ranging from Caesar Salad, Chilli Con Carne and cornbread through to 70's relics such as chicken with orange sauce. The best advice I can give you is not to follow suit. The portions might be large, it's an American restaurant after all, but what I've sampled over the years has struggled to raise the bar beyond the pedestrian at best, and can be sub-TGI Fridays at it's worst.

Go for the burger. And only the burger. It's not on the menu, but don't feel bashful, everyone knows about it these days. It's a thick charred bombe of a patty served medium rare as standard housed within the soft sweet cathedral of a brioche bun. Good crispy bacon and melted (cheddar) cheese are a worthy accompaniment, as are the spears of gherkin served on the side. Add skin on fries, occasionally over salted but generally as good as these things can be, and serve with a side of salacious gossip, preferably about who's doing who in the current show you're working on.

'that' burger at the Rye - July-Sept 2011

Surely everyone has become bored with hearing the story of Yanni 'Meatwagon' Papoutsis and his rise, fall and second coming? If you're not or have been living in a culinary hole for the last three years, have a read up on it somewhere else. In short; Man researches burger, Man creates burger, Man sells burger, all pronounce it good.

Yanni seems to have settled down now, other than occasional forays to appropriate festivals and food fairs, and I really can't complain, as he's settled just round the corner from my house...

There's something almost noble about the life of a legendary travelling meat slinger and setting up a residency at The Rye, a refurbished refurbishment on the edges of Peckham was either a genius redefinition or as self serving and money-grabbing as Celine Dion's residency in Vegas.

It's certainly an improvement on the two hour queues in edgy carparks and pubs that I've experienced before to get Yanni's good stuff, but on the last couple of Sunday lunchtimes visited at least, the steady supply of on of the finest meat based snacks known to man has slowly turned its host pub into a creche. The dodgy as hell history of great, cult burgerdom, has been subsumed into some sort of family friendly post pool party treat for the weekend folks of Dulwich willing to speed ("not in that way darling, I haven't touched the stuff since before Imogen was conceived") over the Rye for it.

The menu is extensive, if you like burgers. There are 6 or so styles with rotating specials. The base of them all is a medium rare patty of 28 day aged chuck steak and a soft, yielding sourdough bun that soaks the juices while keeping shape till the last sticky bite. Toppings include the Dirty Hippy, a pair of mustard fried patties with a processed cheese slice broiled into the meat, the Green Chili burger, a tongue stinging tribute to New Mexico's Bobcat Burger, allegedly one of the finest on the planet, and a self explanatory bacon cheeseburger. Recent specials include a mushroom swiss that took me back to childhood and a dirty plate of chili cheese covered fries, oozing amber juice over the utilitarian tin plates. There isn't any sense of accomplished presentation, but you'll find it difficult to care as the main event, the burgers, have maintained their standards well in the transition from outdoor wagon to pub kitchen. A touch of chopped iceberg gives crunch, the rest is a delicious mingling of flavours and soft texture, a meaty taste explosion.

The only problem I have with the food here is the sides. They've not improved from the early days, despite the static kitchen. Over cooked and over greased in the case of the chips and onion rings and over salted in the case of the last coleslaw I tried. It's not the end of the world though, you can manage two burgers instead. It's probably much better for you.

Does the fact that you're now slamming it down surrounded by rug rats rather than New Cross hipsters take away from the experience? Somewhat, I have to say. It's beyond middle class hell when you can't even hear Minnie Ripperton over the scream and the gurgle of little Ollie and Arthur let alone the shout of your order. Weekday nights have to be the way forward, I don't think I can cope with a Sunday like that without getting fighty...

So will I come again? Of course, the burger is still worth a trip, if not across town, then certainly from the neighbouring postcode. And if you have kids, you need feel no shame here, they'll be welcome, with their mewling and puking, while you can sample the burger you couldn't get the buggy through the crowds to before.

Review of MeatEasy - Jan 2011

Where: #MEATEASY, New Cross
How much: £12.50 a head, burgers are between £6 and £7.50
Come here: if you want a proper burger, and you're not allergic to grotty student pubs in New Cross.


If you're a food blogger, skip the next couple of paras. You know why I spent several hours on a Friday night queuing at a glorified short order grill plate above the least attractive pub in New Cross. If you're not, read on.


Imagine a man, a visionary man, who travelled the world seeking that holy Grail of Western working class food, the perfect burger. Well he exists, and on returning from his meaty pilgrimage, bought a burger van and proceeded to churn out meat patties the like of which the world of excitable food bloggerdom had never before seen. Fast forward a year or so, and the Meatwagon has been plying its business round the pub beer gardens of (mainly South) London. The meateligentia flocked to worship at the altar of the perfect chilli burger and God's own post pub bite, the Philly cheesesteak. Word of mouth and twitter hype ensure the queues stretch round the garden (and down the road), all appears rosy. The fall came in late 2010 when some scrote stole the Meatwagon, forcibly ending that chapter. News then that the Capital Pub Company had found a space for the master to carry on his work came as welcome news, particularly to me, as I'd never been lucky enough to sample his wares.

I took with me the equally visionary Nico Polo, now returned from his Russian trek, both of us keen to sample the hype. I wasn't joking about the pub, this is as resolutely ungentrified as they get. The entrance to #Meateasy is round the side, up a fire escape and over a roof walkway. Grab a raffle ticket as you arrive, and wait to be called out by the megaphone touting staff. Food arrives on paper plates, rolls of kitchen paper wait to wipe your greasy chops, it's as perfunctory as you get. You get three items per raffle ticket (a sensible system to limit tactical group buying) and I'd advise that you use them wisely.

We went for two to share, with a selection of sides. a Dead Hippy, their take on the In-N-Out secret menu, 'animal style' burger. Two thick and ill-formed patties (the more irregular the patty, the better the char and the fuller the flavour) come mustard fried and served in a soft white bun, sufficient only to soak up the sweet meat juices mingling with the special thousand island style sauce. A taste of fatty heaven. The chili cheeseburger packed a punch, with peppery green fellas instead of the expected con carne sauce. The only disappointment came with the sides. With the exception of some excellent and fresh onion rings, the others were standard, salty (even the 'slaw randomly) and to be honest, felt like they'd been too long under the heat lamp, this was particularly true of the Buffalo Wings, if anything, they felt like they'd been dumped back into the frier for a second go. I'd advise saving your precious choices for another burger, or one of the divine Philly Cheesesteak rolls. 

San Francisco - Burger Madness

Two burgers, two ways, one day... Only in California

No trip to the West Coast is complete without worshiping at the altar of In-n-Out. Possibly the finest burger I've ever had. I have a slight moment of anxiety every time that it's not going to live up to the memories, and every time I've breathed a huge, meaty sigh of relief. The menu is simple. Burgers, fries and drinks. They have a much famed 'secret' menu, but essentially it boils down to combinations and numbers of patties and cheese slices. There's also the patented 'animal style' fries and burgers, slathered in onion, cheese and mustard and worthy of poetry. The fries are a little floury but not too greasy or doused in salt. The patty is meaty, thin and wonderful. Served in a white sponge dough bun, not too much taste, but that goes some way to soaking up the sauces. If I was complaining, I'd say that there was little too much onion for me but with the slice of tomato and piles of lettuce, it's certainly enough to count for a portion a day.


Rule number 1 when in the States on your own. Hit a bar, sit at the bar, talk to people. It's not as sleazy or try hard as it is in England, and you'll generally find out where the locals go. Any decent barkeep is guaranteed to give you a decent recommendation and you'll end up round the corner, having the time of your life, in the oddest of little dives. Or at least, that's the plan...Stuck in shopping central Union Square on a Sunday night, I had to try and pick my way through the tourist options. The slightly ditzy girl in Lefty O'Doulls (baseball themed post work joint with a rank looking carvery) sent me towards either Gold Rush or The Summer Place... The former was ok, but had only a few beers on tap and a post shopping crowd. I later found out from Katie Pie that they had ace live musicians Thursday through Saturday, but it wasn't a goer for me. She redeemed herself with The Summer Place, a proper little dive bar just off the Square and certainly somewhere you wouldn't walk in by choice. A couple of bottles of Anchor Steam (complex but light local brew) and a blast of Nirvana on the stereo and I was convinced I'd found a gem. It's also randomly one of the few places you can still smoke openly in a bar... "owner operated, this is San Francisco, not California" explained the beard next to me. 

From there I headed on to another local recommendation, this one from a different source, Yelp if you're wondering. They took me to Seasons, the lounge bar at the Four Seasons. It couldn't have been a bigger contrast. They do a wonderful Sunday night special, burger and beverage for $20. From the sticky, tacky seats and esoteric tunes of the Summer Place, I slid into the relaxed piano bar style of the Four Seasons lounge. The decor and the crowd were middle aged, generic upper class and slightly turned up at the edges. I wasn't sure I was going to stay until I saw the menu - Ground Kobe, Lincolnshire Poacher cheddar and confit shallots served on a brioche bun with fries - they offer 5 different styles on a Sunday evening, but this was the only one for me, and the only burger I've ever had with a suggested wine, cocktail or beer pairing. It was a done deal..

Slightly dry (but I'm being deliberately picky), and very rich, it was one of the better burgers I've eaten in the States. The Catena Merlot it paired with couldn't cut through the duck fat, and I dare anyone to finish it and still say they're hungry, but it was a satisfying bite. Not an every day option, but a once in a while fine dining burger treat.