Posts Tagged → london
Burger Review – The Meatwagon – Peckham Rye, SE15
There’s a movement gaining ground in London at the moment. As Byron Hamburger spreads across the capital with breakneck speed (and eventually capsizing aging Hamburger Unions and weary GBKs in its wake), the joy of finding a decent hamburger in the capital is becoming less of a rarity. I’m a big fan of Byron. They’re mainstreaming and quality-controlling the expansion of a decent burger experience. This is something London is not used to.
At the opposite end of the scale, away from the building sites and the neatly printed menus and expensive agency branding, you’ll find The Meatwagon. Behind a large van in a very typical Zone 2 industrial estate a few minutes walk from Peckham Rye station, sits an unbranded, unassuming little food van. This is the celebrated Meatwagon. I first came across the ‘wagon from a similarly burger-afflicted friend who pointed me in the direction of their Twitter account. It said they weren’t going to be around for a few weeks. Harrumph.
And then, on a Wednesday afternoon, an update. It’s back. Thursday and Friday. From 12pm ‘until we run out’. Ominous. Tempting. Only nine minutes on the train from London Bridge.
A flurry of instant messages between me and another burger critic, and we’re set for Friday.
After stumbling through some leafy Peckham side streets, getting a bit lost, and a quick ‘that can’t be it’ double-take, we’re standing before a beaming Yianni, who gleefully tells us he can do a cheeseburger, bacon cheeseburger or chilli burger. With chips. Triple-cooked. Obvs.
I think the pictures do these justice, but there’s a few points to make here. Yianni uses 100% chuck which he pulls out of a little fridge in big fistfuls and bashes them into patties in front of you. Salt and pepper. The bacon is interesting. He boils up a side of bacon, shreds some off and bashes that into a patty too. It’s thick and chewy, like American crispy bacon without the fat, chemicals and over-saltiness. As for the chilli, it’s half a green chilli fried in butter with a touch of stock. Genius. Both are thrown on top of the patty on the grilling plate before the piece de resistance goes on last. The cheese.
Two slices of it come out of the fridge. It looks like Kraft. We ask if it is Kraft, like a pair of over-excited children. Yianni smiles and says “No, it’s real cheese. It’s taken me ages to source this and it’s my secret. I’ll happily tell you about the rest of the process, but the cheese is my secret weapon”. We don’t push.
The buns are locally sourced white sourdough. Soft. Unseeded. Exceptional. Yianni carefully lattices mustard and ketchup on each side so they have a perfect covering.
And when we get to eating it, the fact we’re standing next to a bin in a glorified car park in Peckham just melts away. The meat is juicy, flawlessly pink and perfectly seasoned. The cheese which has since melted into the patty renders us speechless and is as close as you’ll ever get to a west coast In’n'Out-alike. The meat-to-bun-to-condiment ratio is perfect. We are ecstatic.
If you’ve got anything more than a passing interest in quality burgers, then follow the Meatwagon. Yianni said he’ll be back in a few weeks time. The Meatwagon is his part-time dalliance when he’s not doing proper catering jobs. Get down there. It’s an adventure and it’s London’s best burger. It’s a damn sight better, and 100% more Guerilla, than that other place.
Follow the Meatwagon on Twitter and Facebook.
Guerilla Burgers – W1U
Oh dear. We’re not off to a good start.
Guerilla Burgers opened last week, and we popped in for an evening burger on their second night.
You can still smell the paint on the walls and it’s nestled on James St where Tootsie’s used to be: a culinary black hole of touristic medicocrity. So keeping its youth, inexperience and location in mind, let’s see how they did.
Despite a friend being able to order a medium/rare burger earlier in the day (and enjoying it too), I was denied the same patty treatment and proffered the ‘health and safety’ excuse. Irritating.
Of course when they did show up (roughly 25 minutes later), they were hideously, unforgivably overcooked. Literally crunchy on the outside of the patty. Arid in texture despite pouring over all the sauces we had to hand.
This is a heinous crime when your raison d’etre is making burgers, and a hefty proportion of your overlong menu is given over to a poorly written quasi-diatribe on what makes ‘the perfect burger’.
PS: it’s not burning it.
The burger itself is served in a stainless steel dish (the kind you would typically expect to contain a curry) with the condiments on the side. The buns were neatly toasted, but my companion simply stated through dried-out lips “I could have cleaned my bath with that burger”.
It doesn’t stop there, they serve up crinkle cut chips. Like the ones out of the freezer you used to get round your best mate’s house when you were nine years old. And they haven’t changed a bit from how you remember them: spongy, cold in the middle and not abundant enough to justify their £4 price tag. We also made the error of going for the ‘smothered fries’. Smothering consists of three small morsels of cheddar and a large dollop of sickly veggie chilli. Avoid that upsell.
Something fishy…
The fish tacos are also a country mile away from what fish tacos should be. They’re marinaded salmon, with no breadcrumbs and shop-bought tzatziki slathered over the top. And are cold. So it seems Wahaca still remains the only purveyor of a fish taco resembling something similar to its delicious Califonian brethren.
There are some enormous menu issues going on here. It’s too long and unfocused.
Check out the PDF on their website and witness the layout issues and bizarre menu choices (the LA burger has cottage cheese in it, burger sauce is called ‘Russian Tarragon Dressing‘, sliders are called skaters for some incomprehensible reason, I could go on).
Saving graces?
Well the staff were very much full of first-week perk, which would have made us feel guilty about complaining about the food. They were trying really hard, and I can’t blame them for what came out of the kitchen, although arguably a quality control process should be implemented to stop overcooked meat going out.
If they sort out the menu and do some proper testing I might give it another go, but when you’ve got Byron within schlepping distance, then I can’t think of a good reason to go here.
The thing is, it won’t really matter if the food doesn’t get any better. James Street serves the post-Selfridges tourist crowd (we had to wade through big yellow bags on our way out), and it will make no difference to them if whingy blogger types like me continue to opine Byron‘s simple genius over GB.
This review is a slightly more focused version of the one I originally posted on Qype
A Diner’s Guide (and Open Love Letter) to London’s Supper Clubs
It’s been a short but delightful relationship so far. Having only heard of supper clubs whispered discreetly among those more in-the-know than I, it was October’s visit to Fernandez & Leluu that started it all off.
Tucked away on a secret Hackney side-street was their makeshift dining room. It was full of tables, plates, cutlery and character. We, being the first to arrive, scampered into the garden for some wine. As others turned up, exchanged knowing glances, we settled into a six hour gastronomic experience that was far superior to many of the more official eateries in recent memory. Since then we’ve attended F&L two more times and witnessed the founding of the excellent Trail of Our Bread (also in Hackney).
So after not really knowing what to expect, here’s a few tips if you’ve been thinking about signing up to the supper club experience:
1. It’s not a restaurant.
So don’t treat it like one. It’s someone’s house. Try not to break things, don’t expect fresh cutlery for each course, don’t expect each course to arrive with rapid fire precision. It’s highly unlikely anyone’s actually worked in a proper restaurant.
2. It’s really not a restaurant.
You’re not paying for a service from a business. You’re donating time and money to be part of a fun experiment. You’re the subject of someone’s passion. A supper club attendee has been chosen. Pre-selected. Almost vetted, really. So the social implications of just being there and meeting other diners creates a bonhomie that no typical restaurant experience can match.
3. Pay fair.
We’re British. Therefore we’re useless at dealing with, and asking for, money. On the off-chance you didn’t like the food, and even if you’re the sort of person who refuses to pay for things in restaurants, don’t dick the club out of its donation. Pay at least 10-20% over the suggested donation. Take plenty of cash with you, because if it’s really exceptional, then it’s still going to have cost you less than going to a restaurant.
4. Don’t be picky. Or flaky.
Well, to be more specific, if you’re the picky type, then supper clubs aren’t for you. We’ve had everything from frog’s legs to sashimi. Things that might make you go bleurgh. I’m one of those people that’ll try anything once, and my favourite menus are those that are just presented to me. I don’t know what’s best, I’ve not cooked it. If you can’t handle that as a concept, then you won’t enjoy yourself. But if you love the surprise of each dish arriving, you’ll have a brilliant time.
And for goodness sake, don’t cancel. Cancelling a reservation at a supper club is the baddest of bad form. Only cancel if you’ve lost a limb, or died. It hurts everyone else involved with the endeavour. Seating plans and portion sizes are the main victims, and they’re very carefully planned. If you’re taking a large group to a supper club then make sure none of your flaky mates are invited. It will reflect badly on you otherwise, and you’ll struggle to get another table.
5. Be nice.
Nicer than default restaurant mode. You can make friends at supper clubs. As previously mentioned, most of these folks haven’t had professional training. So compliment loudly and often. More than you’re used to doing. Ask for recipes, be specific about what you liked. Be honest about what could have been better.
But even more importantly than all that, remember that the geographic locations of these clubs is a secret. I’m no expert, but the legality of these clubs is dubious. So don’t add them to FourSquare.
6. Take plenty of booze.
It’s a long night. Don’t plan on having anywhere else to be. If you get out of there before midnight, you’re doing it wrong.
And pace yourself.
Booking the Next Twestival [usability]
Those responsible for the larks of the Twestival Twitter meetup are at it once more. The first batch of tickets for Twestival London were released this afternoon.
There are more coming later this week apparently. There was one major usability problem – so I grabbed the Flip to film Kai booking his ticket.
But hey, 350 twitterers have managed it thus far so maybe I’m just being picky.
Here’s the result. Kai says sorry for swearing:
Buying a Twestival ticket – usability fail from Simon Doggett on Vimeo.
See you at the party folks 
FOWA #1 – Where’s the .net community at?
Me and most of the London tech collective attended the Future of Web Apps conference in a cold and desolate part of docklands this week. I’m going to post a series of thoughts on it over the next week or so.
On the way from crappy hotel to Excel on Friday morning, I shared a bacon sandwich with a guy from Microsoft. They had a booth in the corner of the expo floor with some 360s, a Microsoft Surface table (underwhelming, over-expensive) and some marketing guff about Expression Web, Visual Studio and other bits and bobs. Not a peep about asp.net anywhere to be seen.
He told me that Microsoft came to these events now because they want to be more associated with the web2.0 crowd that attends these shindigs. Working for a Microsoft-driven house, I thought this was interesting, so as we shared the ketchup I picked his brains on a few bits and pieces.
Firstly we talked about Apple evangelism, a bit about the upcoming fall dashboard release for the XBox 360, and we ended up having a long chat about .net and it’s perceived shortcomings in relation to rails, php and other ‘groovier’ frameworks that are evangelised among big tech communities.
I said that MSDN is all well and good for achieving its goals, but compared to php and rails in particular, there is no decent community around asp.net. He readily agreed with me, and I told him that really since they’re the only true commercial framework, it’s their responsibility to nurture a grassroots community of .net evangelists and to help properly showcase some of the good work that’s being done with web apps using MS technology, beyond their shitty PR-heavy press releases.
He totally agreed with me. Hiring .net developers is a great deal trickier than finding a php fanboy. Comparatively, they’re concealed behind a wall of underinformed recruitment consultants and don’t contribute to the same kind of projects as their open source brethren.
They need to sort that out. Let’s hope they do.
More FOWA posts on the way.
FOWA ToDo List
Future of Web Apps starts next week. Exciting.
Probably my favourite event of the year, and in 2007 it was partly responsible for helping our team really push forward. Just like a really great conference should.
So here’s my (unashamedly honest) FOWA todo list.
- Talk to Kevin Rose without coming across as a babbling fanboy
- Steal a Microsoft bean bag
- Get at least another ten Twitter followers
- Learn amazing stuff from Matt Biddulph
- Try not to lock myself out of my hotel room
- Find some brilliant UI developers who don’t shrink at the mention of ASP.
- Find a really, really talented freelance Facebook developer (or agency)
- Don’t lose all my expenses receipts. Again.
- Stay awake during the Zuckerberg keynote
- Drink lots of Adobe beer. Party.
Are you going? What’s your FOWA strategy? I need more ideas!
Disclaimer: I am totally trying to win this competition.
