Bóbó's

I think it was about 8 years ago that Ireland experienced its first burger revolution. Inspired from afar by crazy mavericks having the wacky idea to put fresh ingredients on top of their ground beef there ensued a boom in high-end burger joints. For a people reared on chip shop burgers made out of floor sweepings this was a like an electric shock. Restaurants sprang up all over the place with alluring names like “Real Gourmet Burger”, “Gourmet Burger Company” and “Real Gourmet Burger Company”.

This meat sandwich fad managed to last quite a few years until like any boom, there was a bust, a burger bust. Dublin’s meat scene had had its Icarus moment and mass closures ensued. The reality was these places were offering was sub-standard food and it was actually the quickly evolving tastes and increasing sophistication of Irish customers that were cottoning on to that fact. What resulted was a kind of ground beef Darwinism where only the very strongest of diners endured and in some cases, multiplied.

So it was that after working at the Dickie Rock show I found myself falling into one of those survivors: Bóbó’s. Beside Whelan’s on Wexford Street Bóbó’s is a veritable institution. Opened during those halcyon days of early noughties burger hegemony it has prospered ever since. They recently opened a new outpost on Dame Street only 400 yards from their original incarnation, there must still be money in hamburgers somewhere.

In the pouring rain and still with the dulcet tones of Dickie in my ears I entered the doors of the new Dame Street branch with excitement, for some strange reason I’d never eaten a Bóbó’s burger before.  I’d always liked their image and branding because it seemed more organic and Irish (or Oirish in some sense) than the other generic gourmet places which, like some processed American cheese, seemed to melt into each other.

Upon entering the first thing I noticed is just how shabby the place is. It’s supposed to be a variation on a beat up dive bar but any sort of design nuance and subtlety has gone out the window. It’s far too subtle. Grubby tiled floors with rickety chairs and tables (and dirty toilets) don’t make for much of an eating experience and unfortunately this proved to be case with the whole meal. The owners obviously think that paying no money on your interior and having it look like your school canteen circa 1993 is what the kids want. No sir, it’s not. They should take note from some of Dublin’s other eateries operating within a similar genre that this look and ambiance is achievable if you know what you’re doing.

So many choices

Presented with the large laminated menu you are offered a choice of about 25 burgers. Why would one need to choose between 25 burgers? Each item on the menu is essentially a variation on the same burger, only differing with for example, the addition of mushrooms. The owners have also taken the time to give each of these original 25 an Irish themed name (“The Cashel” for blue cheese etc).

I decided on “The Cheese Burger” (good name) as I believe this is the only option when it comes to a burger. I hate the idea of loading something with pointless ingredients that detract from what you’re supposed to be tasting: the meat. I ordered it medium rare and waited all of about 3 minutes for it to arrive. Part of me thought that it was impossible for it to be ready so quickly, another part thought brilliant, it’ll have to be medium rare. It came medium well. The meat itself was dry and brittle, listless and sad. Little or no seasoning had been applied and the whole thing seemed depressed. One of the chefs flourishes had been to apply the miserly amount of cheese underneath the meat which I think confuses the texture when you’re taking a bite. That may sound pedantic but try it yourself.

The burger came with a smear of their own house relish under the beef, I don’t think they’ll be selling it in supermarkets anytime soon. It was like an overly acidic tomato jam which did nothing to complement anything. The salad and pickles (charging you €1 for pickles! a jar is 80c) seemed like they’d been sitting out for too long as they had a strange dry texture which only added to the melancholy surrounding this griddled meat patty. The only redeeming quality of this was the outstanding bun. Light and aerated, it easily compressed without losing stability. When I’m banging on about the buns being the best part of the dinner you know you’re in trouble.

You call that medium-rare?!

This came with what they describe as “proper skinny chips”. These were your usual straight out of the freezer bag fries with the addition of dried rosemary, I don’t know what “proper” is supposed to mean. All fine and not exactly objectionable but hardly saving proceedings.

Because of Bóbó’s enduring popularity and expansion I expected much more. Maybe my expectation was too high. If they made a few essential tweaks it could be adequate, this is burgers we’re talking about. While not bad value at €11, I’d consider Eddie Rockets to be superior. They would want to start thinking about upping their game as London has gone burger crazy over the past year and it’s only a matter of time before that hits here (see my MEAT Liquor post to observe one man losing his mind over grilled meat and cheese). All in all a pretty poor offering I’m afraid. The first burger revolution died, I don’t think the second one’s started yet

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*/***** 

Fade Street Social

Let me start by saying I have issues with Dylan McGrath. From the moment I saw him on the RTE special “The Pressure Cooker” about his quest to win a Michelin Star in his now defunct restaurant Mint, I was hooked. I thought this is our champion, the food was miles ahead of anything Ireland had ever seen: intricate, bold and crazy beautiful. His psychotic attention to detail and ability to go through over 200 chefs in under a year announced that this was year zero for Irish cooking, nothing that came before was remotely good enough . The star duly followed and recognised him as THE force in Irish cooking. Then it all fell away. Mint closed due to the ridiculous overheads involved in running a starred restaurant in a suburban neighbourhood away from the city centre. Irish cooking momentarily went back into the dark ages and Dylan disappeared.

After a year or so of lying low he returned with Rustic Stone, a “health-food” gimmick concept restaurant that is in my opinion just a contrived money making operation. Any menu that reads “xxxx is brushed with a superfood” with hokey colloquialisms such as “The oul chicken wing” makes me want to punch myself in the face. Dylan had done a Johnny Rotten and was now doing his version of appearing in butter adverts. This is my issue with him, the greatest chef we’ve ever produced was now just slinging steaks served on  stones (another bullshit concept, read anywhere about how to cook a steak and everything says the same thing: incredible heat followed by resting away from heat, how does that work if its cooked and served on a warm stone?)

Dylan McGrath: hard working genius or absolute psychopath?

So it was that I approached his new operation Fade Street Social with great trepidation. First of all I didn’t like the name, Gordon Ramsey protégée Jason Atherton opened a restaurant in London just over a year ago called “Pollen Street Social” with a similar small plate theme. This may be a coincidence or plagiarism (or even homage to put a better spin on it). Was this venture to be the recapturing of Dylan’s culinary crown or was he to sink further into the vapid swamp of his desire for Yankee dollars?

We arrived 15 minutes early for our booking and were immediately shown to our table, the idea here is to get you in and out as quickly as possible. The Tapas bar consumes most of the downstairs area with a drinks/cocktails bar upstairs (I’m hearing there’ll be a fine dining restaurant in the area downstairs behind the tapas bar). In front of you there is an open kitchen in where you can watch the legion of chefs firing out an array of small plates at lightning speed (with Dylan screaming into their earpieces via his personal microphone – no swearing in front of the customers here). Open kitchens are a cool concept as they immediately impart a sense of buzz and urgency to a restaurant, this obviously doesn’t work in fine dining but fits perfectly in what this place is aiming for. The only thing I wasn’t mad about regarding the interior was the pale perfect wood finish everywhere, seems slightly naff to me.

The menu is divided into different sections such as Snacks, Grilled/Charred, Coated & Fried and Carpaccio. Most are between 6 and 10 euros with some of the main course size portions going upwards of 20. First up was a “Bacon & Cabbage burger”, actually pork belly with crispy cabbage and smoked pudding. It was unbelievably good. The pork belly was beautifully caramelised and melting with a perfectly crisp cabbage ball sitting on top of it. This is exactly the kind of dish I’m into, well executed comfort food with a bit of wit thrown in. Although a touch on the small side for €7.50 I couldn’t fault the cooking. Outstanding.

We followed this with a round of “Mini Lobster Hot Dogs”. This was a miniature version of the now ubiquitous lobster roll. While it was absolutely delicious the amount of Lobster meat inside was on the mean side considering it cost a tenner and was barley longer than your index finger. When the overriding flavour is the brioche bun you know there’s a slight balancing problem (can’t fault the brioche though, anything approaching 50% butter gets my approval). I don’t want to be too hard on this as it’s a great dish, I just felt it could have been really special.

Arriving at the same time as the rolls was our order of “Soft-Shell Crab with Miso Mayonnaise, Crab and Lemongrass dipping sauce”. The crabs themselves were stunning, coated in a delicious slightly spicy seasoning with just the right kick in the background. Perfectly seasoned, I tore them apart in seconds. However the sauce, while nice, lacked the acidity needed to really lift this dish into the stratosphere. Top notch crabs though.

As I had devoured all my food in minutes my friend obliged me by offering some of his order of “Crispy Chicken cooked in Tapioca Flour with Truffle Popcorn”. This was an interesting combination I hadn’t heard of before: Chicken & Popcorn? Sounds disgusting if you ask me. The idea is small, very crispy pieces of chicken contrasting with the softness of the popcorn. The only problem is both can be quite bland so Dylan’s idea is to chuck some truffle mayonnaise on top of it, if all else fails lob the truffle on eh? I really liked this though and was pleasantly surprised as I’m not huge on mayonnaise loaded with pungent truffle oil. Turns out chicken and popcorn is quite a winning combination and continued the consistency of quality cooking on display here.

Our courses were joined by some perfectly passable chunky chips with decent Hollandaise. Grand.

Realising we weren’t full and having only been sitting down for 30 minutes we thought we’d better get some desert. I decided on “Basil Sugar Donuts with Lychee and Mango Dipping Sauce”, this was the only mediocre dish of the evening. When you’re paying €6.50 for 4 tiny donuts you’d at least expect them to be warm. They arrived straight out of the fridge with some of the basil sugar on each end. The sauce itself was a little too sharp and just not very pleasant if I’m being honest. I have to add that some of my friends had an absolutely stunning banoffi so the donuts are probably just an aberration.

The food at Fade Street Social is well thought out and almost perfectly executed. Dylan certainly knows how to create a menu as there wasn’t one thing that didn’t grab my attention and try to seduce me into ordering it. The only problem is the rushed speed of the food service, we had been in the place barely 45 minutes and we’d finished four and a half courses each. This is the issue when it comes to the concept, as a place to enjoy a relaxing meal in time and comfort it fails as you are out the door faster than your jacket can make it to the cloak room. But as a place to drop in and enjoy some small plates after going to a movie or out on the absolute piss it works perfectly and that’s what he’s going for. And of course it just happens to be an unintended benefit that this concept turns the tables over quickly, especially when you’re paying €45 for not a lot of food.  I suppose Dylan’s entitled to make some money. He’s still our hero, albeit a flawed one.        

 ****/*****  

BEAR Dublin

To my limited knowledge a Bear is either a large, sometimes angry woodland animal or a big bearded homosexual man. I think it was the latter they were alluding to when they named this restaurant.

BEAR Dublin opened in a blaze of publicity earlier this year as a collaboration between concept restaurant kingpin Joe Macken and Irish rugby star Jamie Heaslip. Jamie has caught a fair amount of flack in the media about this with many commentators saying he should stick to the rugby. I however think that’s nonsense, why shouldn’t he open a restaurant? His huge public profile guarantees publicity and if the place is any good the punters will keep coming back. It’s a no brainer and a canny move on himself and Macken’s part.

The concept of the restaurant is absolutely fantastic. The whole menu is built around weird and wonderful steaks that have fallen out of fashion due to the public’s infatuation with tender, flavourless and due to their popularity, expensive meat.  Names like Bavette, Onglet and London Broil jump off the menu screaming at you to order them. Being the slightly strange person that I am I’ve gone searching for these steaks in butcher shops only to be told they don’t have them, or in some cases, they don’t exist!

Having been in the same venue in its previous Crackbird incarnation the place hadn’t changed much at all. Joe’s signature hanging lightbulbs and unisex toilets are a standard in all of his joints but this was slightly more refined, lots of polished brass lifting it from the junkie cool of its youth into something more grown up and less extrovert. Great sounds on the stereo too, who doesn’t love disco? The standard high stools and communal tables remain though which clearly mark it out as his personal restaurant design aesthetic.

The menu reads brilliantly, lots of the aforementioned steaks to share coupled with starters all served with toast. We kicked things off with two jam jars (yes, more jam jars) of Joe’s now famous lemonade. Whilst being delicious it wasn’t as good as I remembered. I noticed the barman pouring the lemonade out of a beer tap which might go some way to explaining this, Joe has obviously “gone stadium” and is mass producing his lemonade on an industrial scale. It honestly looked like the barman was topping up pints of Guinness. Good stuff though and he should probably think about selling it in off-licenses.

Deciding to share a starter due to the incoming meat festival we opted for the “Hen Egg & Truffled Mayonnaise”. This was incredible. While only really being a poshed up egg mayo on toast it certainly added up to more than the sum of its parts. Part of me wanted to dislike this starter as adding truffle oil to a dish (if you think you’re getting fresh truffle for under a fiver you’re totally insane) is the mark of a pretty lazy chef, adding a “luxury” ingredient to make something boring more interesting. It was delicious though, like the best egg mayo you’ve ever had; creamy and comforting, and everyone likes putting things on toast. Top marks for presentation also.

After nearly 30 minutes of waiting our Onglet finally arrived, in fairness to the excellent staff they told us there was a delay in the kitchen. It came out bloody as hell (as requested) and there was zero “blood” on the plate, this is a very good sign, it means the meat has been rested properly and not just flung from the grill to the plate. If you are ordering something like this you have to accept you’re not going to glide through it with a butter knife. The best way to eat it is to cut the meat against the grain of the muscle, look closely if you’re eating one and you’ll see what I mean. The meat itself was excellent, obviously chewy but with unbelievable flavour, a worthwhile trade-off. A slightly frustrating side issue is that due to the strange shape of the meat parts of it are raw and parts are well-done, this is obviously no fault of the restaurants though. A brilliant and slightly different steak, highly recommended.

We ordered the steak with three different sauces: Horseradish Bechemel, Chimichurri and Peppercorn Whiskey Butter. None of these were above average but I suppose you shouldn’t really need sauce with big flavoured proteins, or maybe I’m making excuses.

Sides consisted of the now famous “Million Dollar Fries” and “Cheese N’Onion Rings”. When I first heard about the Million Dollar Fries they sounded like pure genius. I thought Joe must be the Mozart of Maris Piper, the idea coming to him in a dream or like when alcoholics refer to having “a moment of clarity”. Deep fried potato gratin speaks to me, deeply. How could you not love the idea of thinly sliced potato, layered between a garlic cream sauce, deep fried to perfection.  These weren’t perfection though, my heart sank.  The sauce was far too rich and the potato, while appearing crispy, wasn’t nearly crispy enough. They were far from terrible but unfortunately never reached the heights I expected. The onion rings were decent if a little heavy on the Pecorino.

BEAR Dublin is good but not brilliant. The concept is fantastic and Dublin certainly needs more of this kind of thing so kudos to Jamie and Joe.  I can tell there is a great restaurant in there somewhere, the slight creases just need to be ironed out. Total bill was €55 and that isn’t bad value for what we had. Go and check it out for yourself, it’s not just for big bearded homosexuals.

***/*****

The British Street Food Awards

Back in the middle of September I decided I’d take a trip over to London to visit my brother and of course do some serious eating, eating being the point of all of my holidays.  However it was only by chance that a couple of days before I left that I came across something called “The British Street Food Awards” on a food blog and realised then that this was now the purpose of my trip. Who could turn down the chance to eat at some of the most celebrated and venerated food trucks from all over the UK, all in the same place at once. This was The Oscars of street food and I accidentally fell arse first straight into the middle of it.

The whole operation is run beside Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen restaurant in Hoxton and he has some involvement (though how much I’m not sure of). Fair play to him anyway for whatever his role is, it’s a brilliant idea and the whole street-food movement in the UK has really exploded over the last couple of years (something which I suspect will blow up in Ireland in the near future).  We arrived at 12pm and a serious crowd was already gathering, the sunshine really dragging the punters out in droves. First up we went to the bar and of course it was a craft beer bonanza, no Heineken taps in this joint.  We tried some of their unique cocktail creations which were filled with pomegranate segments, fresh ginger and whatever else the hipster bartenders could conjure into a cocktail.

First up on the food mission was a Fried Chicken joint called Spit & Roast (we see what you did there lads). These guys seemed to be one of the main attractions as I queued for probably 30 minutes for a bite of a chicken bap served to me by a dude who I’m nearly sure was Jarvis Cocker. Fried Chicken is the food trend of the year and Spit & Roast seem to have hit everything pretty much spot on, bang on the Zeitgeist if you want to sound like a wanker. All they were offering was a “Buttermilk Fried Chicken Thigh, Apple and Celeriac Slaw in a Bap” and wings. The 30 minute queue was worth the wait though, it was bloody sensational. Chicken thighs are a much better option for something like this as they don’t dry out nearly as quickly as breasts. The thigh was coated in a delicious spicy seasoning and served in a basic bap with outstanding slaw. There was also a delicious bbq sauce tying the whole thing together, really top notch stuff.

We also tried some of their wings and they continued the poultry excellence.  Coated in the same seasonings as the thigh they were amongst the finest I’ve eaten (didn’t even require Franks, now that is something) the one thing you could really taste was the quality of chicken. Big meaty wings which don’t taste like rock hard hammers which have been chucked at you from over the counter by Charlene the waitress from Eddie Rockets, are something to be savoured and appreciated.

Alright Jarvis!

Next up on the awards trail were a Welsh seafood crew called Café Mor. These guys were also pulling the crowds big time, queuing for extended periods being the order of the day. Such were the big crowds at the event that the organisers took to twitter to apologise for the long delays. No matter, it’s great to see so many people interested in what has established itself as a food phenomenon, this all leads to a raising of standards and a public rejection of paying 8 quid for a Big Al’s burger from some truck smothered in that Kandee Ketchup you used to get at school.

Anyway, back to Café Mor, I’d never heard of them before, probably because they’re Welsh so I was interested to sample what seafood they had on offer. Of all the stalls there on the day their menu was probably the most extensive, most of the other vendors opting for two or three offerings each.

First up was the Lobster Roll. If I see Lobster Roll on a menu I’ll step over my own grandmother to get it. It’s the perfect balance of luxury and poverty rolled into one; decadent lobster meat stuffed into some unassuming bun (usually of the cheap hot-dog variety). This one didn’t disappoint, loads of fresh lobster with very few adornments (i.e none), served in a roll of some description.  It was accompanied by a very decent coleslaw (forget fried chicken, this is the year of the coleslaw, it seems to come with everything). All very good and while not being the best Lobster Roll I’ve ever tasted (thank you Burger + Lobster) it certainly was very good nosebag.   

Next was a selection of their “Hot Seashore Wraps”. Now I thought I knew what a wrap was but this certainly wasn’t it. I watched the guys making and cooking them on a sort of giant paella pan and from what I can gauge I would describe them as “Savoury Stuffed Dumplings”, they obviously prefer “Seashore Wrap”. 

The first of these was “Wild West Pembrokeshire Crab with Sweet Chilli Sauce, Sweetcorn and Spring Onion”. The crab tasted ultra-fresh and nothing beats that straight out of the sea flavour you get from quality seafood. The sauce kicked proceedings up a notch but the addition of sweetcorn didn’t do it for me. I’m not a big fan of sweetcorn anyway but texturally I didn’t think it felt right (Note: this dish went on to be the overall winner in the “Best Sandwich” category at the awards which makes me question who and how they're scoring this thing).

Their next wrap was “Smoked Welsh Sewin with Cream Cheese, Lemon Zest, Dill and Laverbread”. Sewin is sea trout and this was absolutely delicious. It should’ve been obvious anyway as rich cream cheese cut with lemon adding some nice fragrant dill is a classic combination. This working in tandem with the sewin should have alerted me earlier to the fact that I shouldn’t doubt the trout. You couldn’t taste the laverbread anyway which was a huge bonus. Laverbread (seaweed) does that thing that certain types of cheese do by exploding its noxious flavour in your mouth until all you can taste is that rotting-vegetable type flavour. Laverbread is disgusting, end of story.

Their final sandwich was “Laverbread Pesto with Welsh Cheddar and Tomatoes”. Great, fucking laverbread again. I took one bite and threw it at my brother, I wouldn’t disgrace this blog with a picture of it.

Café Mor’s final menu item was a pretty bog standard Seafood Chowder which didn’t particularly taste of anything, including seafood. It would be better described as “An Under-Seasoned Smashed Pea and Potato Medley served in a Polystyrene Cup”. It didn’t do anything for me or my friends and I found it strange that seafood specialists couldn’t get their soup to taste of any discernible fish. All in all a mixed report for Café Mor, some great stuff mixed with some nautical disasters.

On my journey to get the beers in (from the oh-so-hip Camden Brew Co…..dickheads) I spotted one stall which didn’t have a baying hoard outside it; The Mussel Men. These Scottish dudes specialise in Moules-Frites, mussels and chips to anyone who isn’t French. Mussels cooked in white wine and shallots with skinny fries are an all-time classic and when done right are the ultimate in comfort food. The delicious sauce combining the wine and salty liquid released from the mussels is almost the ultimate in chip-dipping.

While queuing the Mussel Men have the novel idea of getting one of their staff to challenge you to an arm-wrestle (these are Mussel Men after all) but then actually trying to engage in a “Thumb War” like the ones you used to have when you were in school. Needless to say I found this incredibly annoying and had to fight off the urge to stuff him head-first into the steaming mussel pot. Other people found it humorous but they looked like hipster aresholes so I’ll maintain my position on this.

After that saga I’m delighted to report that the moules-frites were outstanding. These were moreish moules, huge and of excellent quality (turns out that quality Scottish seafood thing isn’t just jock propaganda) and the chips were drenched in that delicious emulsified winey (nice word) sauce. I brought one box over to my four friends and the whole thing was scoffed in seconds. The only complaint I can make is that I was the only person in the queue who didn’t get any parsley garnish, I do love my garnish. Must have been my impolitesse with that thumb war twat.

The final stop on this street food adventure was a place called Green Goat. I’m not really sure what they specialise in but they certainly have aspirations of something higher than fried chicken. We queued (again) at about 5pm and they had only one menu item left. As we were ordering the guys told us they were informed that the huge volume of people was unanticipated by the organisers so the traders were completely understaffed and understocked. Some of the vans ran out at 4pm with thousands of people still lining up, causing chaos at the trucks who still had supplies. It was this reason that I missed out on trying loads of the stalls I was interested in but I can always use it as an excuse to come back to London and try them, wherever they’re based.

Back to the Green Goat and their final menu item: a “Cornish Scallop, Cream Tea Scone, Whipped Butter and Strawberry Jam”. This really was quite something and the most gastronomic thing I tasted on the day. The fresh charred scallop on the slightly sweet scone, mixed with the rich butter and sugary acidic jam melded perfectly. An outstanding flavour combination, I was initially hesitant about covering a scallop with something I’d rarely put on toast. Really delicious anyway and you could tell these guys were chefs as opposed to a couple of hippies who bought a van and may have owned livestock at one stage.

By this stage of the day there was either no more food or hour long queues for ice-cream. We decided enough was enough and went off to the boozer to get rightly pissed. The British Street Food Awards are a brilliantly conceived idea, executed (almost) perfectly and something I feel will grow far bigger by next year and beyond. I’d love to see something like this back in Ireland in even a miniature scale of what’s on offer here. It only takes a couple of traders who take what they’re doing seriously and a commitment to offer a quality product to produce a whole movement. Hopefully this is only around the corner. Now that’s something worth queuing for.

****/*****

MEAT Liquor

As this is the first post on my most probably ill-conceived blog, I thought I’d start right near the top with one of my favourites. I want to share with you a life-changing experience. Fast food El Dorado you see. If this review seems overly gushing it’s because it’s in every way deserved. Believe me when I tell you that I hate a lot of restaurants, they drive me to high-anxiety, rage, manic depression, faithlessness and ultimately, jaded acceptance of their mediocrity. But that’s for later posts. I decided I’d talk about somewhere so god damn fantastic that it demands a blog in itself.  That place friends, is MEAT Liquor.

If over the past couple of years you’ve read about street food in a paper, stood in line at a food truck or stuffed your face in some gourmet curry box, it’s because of these guys. Conceived a couple of years ago by a guy called Yianni as a burger van called Meatwagon, it quickly grew into a pub residence labelled #Meateasy. From this a fully paid up restaurant named MEAT Liquor was born. Think of it as an American diner that’s been hitting the crack pipe for four days while listening to the Velvet Underground on repeat. It’s dirty, sleazy and aggressive. It slaps you around like your uncle after one to many Martinis. The place is so cool the only way to escape it is by jumping straight through the window.

Caution: Be prepared to queue. It’s a strange development in the restaurant world these days that the reservation book has been torched, banished to hell along with the dinner jacket policy but thems the breaks I’m afraid (good news re the dinner jackets, why be made to feel like Alan Partridge). Luckily when I arrived (2pm Saturday) there was no queue at all. We waited at the bar for about 15 minutes drinking Bloody Marys out of jam jars (jam jars being the hip flask de jour – stuff like this would usually make me want to punch myself in the face but it works here). In one word: deadly. The quality vodka mixed with great tomato juice and some spikey seasoning served in an ice-cold jar which used to contain your grannys marmalade goes down an absolute storm.

The Bar & Cocktail list are provided by a secretive Bartender collective called Soulshakers. I love the idea of that, a rag-tag bunch of gunslinger barmen who obviously pissed off and underpaid under their previous employers decided to group together and combine their knowledge designing some of the best bars and cocktail lists in London. I love it, power to the workers and all that. Good cocktails too, with or without the jam jars. To give you example of a minute detail you order a drink and the fruit (lemon, lime, whatever) is totally fresh. It doesn’t sink straight to the bottom, partially dissolving while you stare at it pondering what went wrong with the world. This might sound pedantic but if a restaurant can’t get their lemon slices in order how do you expect them to grill your burger properly. They also do a drink called a Lagerita (Yes original name I know, Lager and Margarita) which is supposed to brilliant but I forgot to order one such was my raging carnal desire for grilled meat con queso.

At first glance the menu reads like many other Diners with aspirations of greatness but end up in boring culinary fare: wings, slaw, onion rings etc until you happen across something curiously original, Deep Fried Pickles. What in the name of Jesus are Deep Fried Pickles? They’re unbelievable, that’s what they are. Arriving on the signature MEAT Liquor cafeteria red tray they initially look strange, like oiled up deep fried mars bars. The initial hesitation is immediately expunged as soon as you bite into one of these bad boys. The combination of hot batter and cool salty pickle is Sonny & Cher good, a marriage made forever, well maybe Sonny and Cher didn’t last forever but you know what I mean. They come with a blue cheese dipping sauce that is so good you’d wear it as cologne. This is a winning appetiser if ever there was one. The pickles explode in your mouth unleashing all that saltiness while the hot batter adds the burn (in a good way). The blue cheese sauce cools everything down and adds a desired richness to the piquancy of those salty pickles.    

Now onto the main event of the evening as Michael Buffer would say: burgertown. Some of the menu names are familiar, Cheeseburger, Mushroom Swiss, and some are not; Double Bubble, Dead Hippy. What’s a Dead Hippy you say?  Its Yianni’s take on the famous In-N-Out Double-Double Animal Style, one of gods own creations. It’s two beef patties (served medium i.e pink) with a slice of cheese on each patty (very important, difficult to understate how essential cheese is on EACH meat patty, this is a theme I will return to over the course of this blog) pickles, lettuce and “sauce”, MEAT Liquors take on signature sauces everywhere, whether it be In-N-Out, McDonalds or the King.

Biting into this burger can only be described as a religious experience. The outside of the meat is seasoned(essential) then properly charred while the centre is pink (only achieved by getting the griddle hot enough to cook the outside without cooking the meat through, if the griddle is warm the inside will end up as cooked as the outside). It’s amazing, the combination of great meat, soft squishy bun (oh sailor!) and melting American cheese is what all burgers should aspire to. A note on the size: the Dead Hippy isn’t some gargantuan bowling ball between some unsuspecting bun that can’t contain it, like the girl at school who deliberately wore her bra that couple of sizes too small. No, it’s only slightly bigger than a Big Mac, and that’s the point. When you bite a burger you should be able to taste all of its components, it should be proportional. That’s why you put stuff on it, so you can taste it all together, duh. Simple concept I know but one that some can’t seem to grasp, not pointing any fingers at any of Dublin’s high end burger joints. The bottom line is that it tastes delicious, each ingredient like a spoke in some magical burger wheel.

All of this Dead Hippy talk has nearly made me forget the other burger masterpiece on offer: The Buffalo Chicken burger. This is a whole chicken breast, coated in some delicious batter, deep fried to perfection. That sounds good enough, especially considering that the chicken is totally moist and in no way dry probably due to the protection of the batter. But what really lifts this into the stratosphere is that it’s completely drenched in hot sauce. I’m 99% sure its Franks, good idea.  Why bother concocting your own when it’ll only be inferior to the shop bought version. Similar to when chefs make their own Ketchup and people still reach for the Heinz, its smacks of effete gastronomical snobbery. Anyway I digress, the Buffalo Chicken is simply accompanied by some unthreatening mayo, shredded iceberg and the aforementioned “essential” squishy bun. Chicken, batter & hot sauce is always a winner and when you stick it in between some buns you get a taste even the Colonel himself would be proud of.  I’ll tell you right now it’ll be the best chicken burger you’ll ever have.

The fries play an essential support role. They are there to enhance and support the burger, not steal the limelight. They’re like a solid background actor keeping the movie rolling along nicely, the Kevin Kline of the show if you will. They also arrive seasoned, which I like. Seasoning in nearly every case improves your food, without it food tastes sad, listless, depressed. The fries do exactly what you require and ask no more of you. They arrive in the right place, at the right time and beside the right burgers. An excellent coleslaw arrives also but in this company it’s merely a side-note, I almost feel sorry for it in such esteemed company.

The whole thing will set you back less than £15 for pickles, one of the burgers and fries and if that ain’t good value then I don’t know what is. People are all too happy to drop a ton on bland mediocrity so 15 quid on the best burger you’ll try this side of Southern California (any In-N-Out branch really) represents money in the bank. To quote Tom from Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels “It’s a deal, it’s a steal, it’s sale of the f*cking century!”

I’d heard so much about MEAT Liquor before finally getting to eat here. Usually this can end in disappointment but not in this burger instance. Next time you’re in London Town make sure you check it out. Actually just jump on a flight and get there as soon as you can.

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