Cheese and Biscuits on tour - The Burgers of San Diego

There's a very widely-read blog called A Hamburger Today, all about - you guessed it - burgers. It's an offshoot of the hugely popular US website Serious Eats and as you might expect largely focusses on that part of the world (with the occasional foray abroad to the usual suspects), but it is nevertheless an interesting and pleasingly unpretentious bulletin of what's new in the burger world. AHT is just as likely to cover the revamp of the Carl's Jr. chicken burger as a gourmet $25 offering from a top restaurant, and clearly makes an effort, geographically speaking and budget-wise, to be as inclusive as possible. But very early on I couldn't help noticing how many top-rated burgers of all shapes and sizes and prices came from one place - San Diego. I took with me on my latest trip a wishlist of over 15, which for a stay lasting only 14 days is, you will appreciate, rather ambitious. And of course I didn't get to try all of them but like the fearless gastro-tourist I am I bloody well did my best.


Perhaps the first thing I should point out is that, contrary to any hugely overinflated expectations I may have had about "San Diego, Burger Mecca", not every last one I ate was worth the effort. It seemed that the more we spent, the fancier the surroundings and the more slick the service, the poorer the sandwich, a fact illustrated most neatly by an evening meal in Avenue 5, Banker's Hill where everyone on our table enjoyed a perfectly pleasant meal apart from those unlucky enough to order the cold, tough, overcooked, tasteless house burger. Which was only me, of course. But I'm not going to dwell on those that didn't make the cut; instead, here are my top 5 burgers of San Diego.


5. Miho Gastro Truck


It shouldn't be a surprise that in a city, or at the very least a state, that has a good case for claiming to be the birthplace of the street food revolution, food trucks are still the first place to go for something lovingly crafted and determinedly unique. Miho Gastro Truck do a range of gourmet sandwiches using premium ingredients popular with their well-heeled and well-fed following, such as the extraordinary buttermilk fried chicken and biscuit sandwich (above) and a lamb burger (more unusual perhaps in the states who don't eat anywhere near as much lamb as we do). But the vaguely Europeanised MGT burger, with its grass-fed beef, black pepper and truffle aioli and caramelized onion, is a thing of rare beauty. The preseasoned beef (I think) created a denser patty than you'd otherwise find but the sweet brioche held together well and I could even ignore the pesky addition of rocket - it made sense in the context of everything else. MGT also do a burger containing candied bacon. Catch 'em while you can.


Various locations in San Diego - check the website for more details




4. Neighborhood Bar


The menu at the Neighborhood Bar is a thing of wonder to an American food junkie like me. It's no word of a lie to say I wanted to order every last thing off it, from the bacon-wrapped mini hot dogs to the braised beef ribs to the grilled cheese salad. Hell, I'd even quite like to try the veggie bean burger with Swiss cheese. But on our visit we managed to whittle down our choices to a heaving pile of pasilla chilli cheese fries, a ridiculous looking thing called the Local Animal (a Polish sausage soaked in pulled pork and gravy with a fried egg on top - every bit as filthy as it sounds) and, of course, the Neighborhood Burger. Simple and satisfying, it contained just three fillings - caramelized onion, gruyere cheese (always a good choice for a gourmet burger cheese I find) and pepper greens for colour and crunch. The bun was a kind of sourdough mix of some kind, robust and full of flavour, but the real star was the beef, confidently medium-rare and boasting that addictive buttery minerality of USDA.





3. Waterfront Bar & Grill


A glorious, unreconstructed dive bar in Little Italy, I fell in love with the Waterfront the moment I walked through the doors. Noisy, dark and full of grimy nooks and crannies, the food is perfectly in character with the surroundings, being unapologetically junky and all the better for it. Starting with a portion of Buffalo Chicken Wings (crunchy, zingy, perfect) I soon got to work on the Waterfront Bacon, a glossy mound of medium rare beef, crispy bacon and neon-yellow American cheese. Excellent pickles, salad on the side and the crunchiest fries in Southern California just sealed the deal. A hoot, and actually the closest thing in style I ate during my trip to the MeatLiquor burger.





2. In'n'Out


Well, it had to feature somewhere. There's always the worry when you try and revisit a great lunch that it will fail to live up to the time-gilded memories, but it's testament to the extraordinary quality and consistency of In'n'Out that a Double Double with fries and a root beer was just as brilliant in 2012 as 2010. In many ways In'n'Out is a kind of objective ideal of a cheese burger - enjoyable, familiar and reassuring while also superbly fresh (you can easily watch the whole process whilst you wait for your food - I bet you don't know many fast food joints in the UK that peel and chip their own potatoes) and, of course, delicious. The real revelation this time though was rediscovering the fries - golden brown, crunchy outside and soft within, they had the most incredibly potatoey flavour. I have simply never had better potato chips anywhere else.





1. Carnitas Snack Shack


Picking a winner amongst competition like this was never likely to be straightforward, but the monumental Shack burger has posed a completely unexpected problem - namely, I know in my heart it's my favourite, I know it's better than any other burger I ate in San Diego, but I have no idea why. On first glance it is nothing extraordinary; a heavily poppyseeded bun, lettuce, cheddar, tomato, beef. But strange and wonderful things happen when you bite into it. Firstly, you will notice that the beef is powerfully flavoured (grass fed I believe, an increasingly common specification in the "gourmet" end of San Diego burgers) and cooked cleverly to a juicy pink despite being quite wide and not too thick (anyone can cook a burger the size and shape of a baseball to pink). Then you will notice the addition of a thin slick of bacon jam just underneath the top bun, which much like the candied bacon in the Miho burger adds a sweet and savoury seasoning and an extra tranche of flavour. And then - and I can hardly believe I'm saying this - the tomato. The juiciest, tastiest, most tomato-ey tomato I've ever tried in a burger, traffic-light red and oozing heavenly umami, it was as unexpected as it was brilliant. It's possible the bacon jam enhanced the tomato in some strange way, or maybe it was some kind of rare breed heirloom vegetable ripened under the bright California sun and picked during a full moon. I just don't know. And anyway it's not just the tomato that made this special - although I've done my best to try and figure it out, I still don't really know why the Carnitas burger was so good. It just was. Perhaps that's all that matters.





I'm tempted to end on a somewhat controversial note. I ate incredibly well in San Diego for not very much money, the sun shone, the fresh IPAs flowed freely and every minute was a blast. But if - only if - I am to focus my attention for a second purely on the burgers, I reach the inescapable conclusion that actually, ignoring the higher prices and the weather and the Piccadilly Line, the best of London really can hold its own nowadays with the best of Southern California. There are many more worse meals to be had generally in the UK than in the easygoing service culture of the USA but when passionate, talented people hunker down and make good food, be it in WC1 or 92104, geography becomes irrelevant. So I'm going to just come out and say it, and of course I'm hopelessly biased, but the best I've ever eaten is still the MeatLiquor Bacon Cheeseburger. But perhaps a return trip to San Diego and a 2nd trip to Hodad's is in order. Just to be 100% sure, you understand.

Cheese and Biscuits Restaurant of the Year 2011 - Roganic

Having been asked by Toptable a couple of weeks ago to come up with a Top 5 restaurants of 2011 (and somehow managing to pick not a single one bookable on Toptable...oops), I thought the job of picking an overall winner for the blog would be easier. In fact, it's been a bloody nightmare. For some reason, my favourite restaurants of previous years have, in their own ways, been shoo-ins - obviously Tayyabs had to win at least once, Rules another, and there will always be a special place in my heart for the astonishing Ledbury. But this year it sometimes felt like all my food wishes had been granted at once - each month brought yet another exciting new opening or dangerously obsession-forming discovery and keeping up with it all was as exhausting as it was thrilling.


It's a strange phenomenon that in an economic climate that you'd expect to limit the scale and ambition of London's restaurants, the opposite seems to have been the case. Russell Norman's restaurants (including my personal favourite Spuntino, above) are often spoken about as "recession-busting", thanks to their focus on informality and tasty comfort food served at reasonable prices, but actually the top end - "fine dining" for want of a better phrase, and believe me I do want - has seen just as much activity. People don't mind splashing out occasionally if - and only if - they feel they are getting their money's worth; this is why it's near impossible to get a table at Goodman of an evening but fusty old temples of silver service like the Rib Room are suddenly feeling rather anachronistic. Customers are fussier when times are hard, but the best places realise that and not only meet their expectations but regularly exceed them.


So, yes, settling on an overall winner has been nearly impossible. The temptation to cop-out and declare a joint or shared 'best' is huge, but in the end that would be a cop-out, so I've had to be brutal and pick just one. It would have been satisfyingly topical to choose a restaurant formed in the fires of London's street food scene but MeatLiquor, dive bar, burger joint and den of iniquity, only missed out by a whisker. Deservedly rammed from the moment it opened, this is the kind of restaurant I'd open if I ever could - fast food as recreated by people who understand everything that's good about it and are obsessive about every detail. Despite some fierce new competition, there still is no greater burger in London than MeatLiquor's (I'd go for the bacon cheese pictured below if it's your first, but they're all great), and the buffalo wings and chilli cheese fries are as addictive as they are messy - which is very. Special mention too should go to the guys at Soulshakers who match the food with inventive and very reasonably priced drinks. Once inside - and at busy times, that takes a while - you simply will enjoy yourself. It is always worth the wait.


It tells you everything you need to know about the drive, ambition and sheer talent of Roganic head chef Ben Spalding that I have been to his restaurant three times in the space of six months and the menu has changed completely on every visit - not a single course of a 12+ stage tasting menu has been repeated, not even once. In addition, everything I have eaten has been not only remarkably well executed, presented immaculately and using unusual and exciting ingredients, but served with the kind of practiced ease that hardly any restaurants anywhere have, never mind one opened so recently. The food at Roganic may be amongst the best in London - it probably is the best in London - but it's the pacing and charm of the front of house that makes it sing, and it's a credit to everyone there that it all comes together so beautifully. I love a dirty burger as much as anyone, but the fact that in 2011 of all years some people are prepared to put their necks on the line and make unapologetically high-end cuisine that is somehow still fresh and relevant and recognisably British makes me very happy indeed. Now if they could only sort out that décor...


I've rambled on long enough even without mentioning gems like José (below), Zucca, Silk Road, Bob Bob Ricard, Dinner, Soif, The Heron, Amici Miei, Magdalen and God knows how many other fantastic restaurants in this extraordinarily diverse city so I had better stop while I still hopefully have your attention. Thanks, as ever, for reading yet another year's worth of rants, misinformed opinion and hyperbole; I'm sure there'll be plenty more where that came from in 2012. Meantime, have a very happy Christmas and New Year, and I only hope you're looking forward to the next twelve months as much as I am. And if you're not yet, then how about this - Pitt Cue are opening in Soho in the first week of January. You're welcome.


Thanks to Lizzie for the Goodman and José pics

Honest Burgers, Brixton

Three or four years ago I used to work in Brixton, in a strange, bohemian loft-office above a furniture workshop on Saltoun Road. I liked that arrangement, at least for a while - the commute was just one bus from Battersea, meaning I could save a fortune on tube fares, and there were plenty of really interesting (if not always 100% safe) options for after-work drinking. What wasn't quite as easy, at that time, was lunch - there was a very worthy (and very expensive) organic cafe on Coldharbour Lane which did a BLT sandwich for the best part of a tenner, a smattering of Japanese places that while not brilliant were at least reliably OK, and a strange place called Satay Bar whose confused menu of Japanese, Indonesian and Chinese "things on sticks" played second fiddle to a sickly cocktail list. I'm probably exaggerating slightly - there were a few more and probably better places to eat, but options were certainly limited.



How times have changed. Brixton market, sorry "Village", used to be a weird area full of strip-lit halal butchers, mobile phone accessory stalls and greengrocers selling massive yams and baskets of giant African land snails. And in fact, to a degree, it still is. But now, in amongst the odd stubborn clinger-on from the early days are an astonishing number and variety of smart food outlets. Marina O'Loughlin has already given a far more eloquent and comprehensive summary of what you can find there than I ever could, but everything she says is true - it is a wonderful little place for a wander, and I spotted at least a good half dozen exciting ways of spending my lunch money. This time though, and like so many other times in my life, my money - and my mind - were on one thing - a burger.


Honest Burgers is an artfully designed little place, and despite having space for no more than a handful of people it feels airy and comfortable rather than cramped. I hardly ever talk about interior design, through a killer combination of apathy and blinkered food-autism, but Honest Burgers is really nicely done, all solid wooden furniture and Spuntino-style hanging lightbulbs. The menu is short - another massive pro point in my book - and straightforward, just chicken or beef burgers in a couple of different styles. And it all seemed very good value too - £6.50 is a great price for a mid-range burger, especially when you consider it comes with chips, which are often extra elsewhere.


This, though, is the Honest Burger itself (£8), their flagship offering. Inside a glossy (if ever so slightly crumbly) brioche bun is an aggressively seasoned beef patty (cooked from raw mince pressed by hand onto the hot plate) under not-quite-melted cheddar, sweet red onion chutney, sliced (and excellent) pickles, some token lettuce and a nice crisp layer of streaky bacon. And it was good. Not brilliant, but good - great textures, juicy beef, probably a cut above the standard Byron burger for example, and for the same money, although Byron have already hit back with their Uncle Sam, a take on the traditional US cheeseburger and also featuring a brioche bun. I could harp on about the problems with the Honest Burger - I'm not sure onion chutney has any place in a burger, and the bits of cheddar that hadn't melted were rather cloying and overpowering - but really, it was a solid, enjoyable, and yes, honest, effort. Rosemary-salted triple-cooked chips were top notch though, all crunchy and twisted like calamari.


The problem, in fact the only real problem that Honest Burgers have, is the continued existence of a mobile fast food van currently operating out of the kitchens of a Peckham pub. You're probably sick to death of me going on about the Meatwagon, but comparisons are inevitable due to the very similar cooking methods (I think I even saw them use a cloche to melt the cheese onto the beef, although not to steam the bun) and however much I'd like to judge Honest Burgers on their own terms, the fact is, Meatwagon do this kind of thing better. I ate my Honest burger thinking about how I'd like to see the pasty cheddar replaced with Kraft cheese, to lose the chutney, to add a bit of ketchup and French's mustard. And perhaps with a firmer, greasy sourdough bun instead of the crumbly brioche. And then I realised, what I actually want is a Meatwagon. Honest Burgers, simultaneously to their great credit and sad detriment, have created a product that evokes memories of better things without quite the sparkle and - let's face it - black magic that others have managed. But you know what, it's still a good burger and you can still do worse. So, good luck to 'em.

7/10

Buen Provecho, Waterloo

In wondering just why it is that some of the street food stalls in London are so far ahead of their competitors in their relevant fields (try finding a better burger than the #meateasy bacon cheeseburger, go on, I dare you, or for that matter a better Chocolate Fudge Sundae than Choc Star's) it's tempting to conclude that certain types of cuisine just lend themselves better to this kind of arrangement than others. Small-turnover, "fast" (ish) food, heavily dependent on an individual's passion for their own chosen cuisine and with an attention to detail on ingredients and method that borders on scary, the humble burger has been transformed by the #meateasy treatment because the pace and freedom of street food allows and encourages experimentation, invention and sheer, bloody-minded obsession. Somehow, sometimes, in a restaurant environment, where the link between the chef and the customer is hidden behind fixtures and fittings and 12.5% service, that magic and passion is lost.


But this post isn't about the #meateasy. Around the back of Waterloo station, a humble taco stall is doing for Mexican street food what Yianni did for West Coast burgers, and is surely destined to be just as popular. Buen Provecho is the work of Arturo Ortega Rodriguez of Mexico City who, according to Timeout, came to London six years ago and worked briefly in a hotel before setting up his own mobile operation. Like the Meatwagon when it still existed, he moves about a bit - my friend Helen found him in Elephant and Castle, of all places - but nowadays can reliably be seen Mondays to Fridays, midday until "whenever the food runs out" on Lower Marsh St market. The small menu is displayed on a chalkboard pinned to the back of his tent, and contains what at first glance is a familiar run-through of Mexican dishes - tacos, quesadillas, nachos - all at sensible prices. I ordered a selection of 3 tacos (£6) and was told to help myself to the toppings out on display - a chunky, bright green guacamole, an onion and chilli salad, and a mysterious house salsa which Arturo sells by the jar. Before we go any further, how many times in any Mexican joint in London have you been allowed to "help yourself" to as much guacamole as you like? And instead, how many times have you been charged 50p extra on top of your stodgy £6 burrito for the privilege of having any guacamole at all? Buen Provecho were already in my good books, and that was even before I'd eaten anything.


From the left, we have, first, Adobo con carne, not-too-tender but hugely flavoursome strips of beef in a subtle smoked chilli sauce which was quite unlike anything I'd had before. I want to describe the sauce as "oaky" but this description doesn't go far enough - it was dense and woody, rich like the smell of an antique wardrobe, and coated the beef thoroughly without either being too oily or too dry. The guacamole I'd chosen to dump on top (I'd like another go at choosing toppings, I think - I can probably do better) seemingly consisted of little more than great buttery coarse chunks of avocado and a few bits of coriander, but had a greater hit of fresh lime than any other you can get in London and was utterly magnificent. Next along was Pollo con mole, moist strips of slow-cooked chicken in a great mole sauce that made me finally realise what all the fuss was about mole - faintly chocolaty, spicy and umami-rich - and topped with the tinglingly fresh house salsa, of which I won't even begin to guess the ingredients but will say I am going back for a jar of it the next chance I get.


But best of all was, on the right, the pork pibil, unbelievably tender strips of pork in a spicy orange (the fruit and the colour) sauce that was just so mind-blowingly good I actually laughed out loud, on my own, as I ate it. It's very difficult to describe why it was so brilliant without resorting to meaningless hyperbole, but there was just something about how fresh, how - bear with me - alive (in a metaphorical sense obviously) it was, and topped with a crunchy red onion and chilli salad which added texture and fire, it added up to what must be a definitive version of this famous Mexican snack. Certainly, if there's a better one out there, I'll eat my sombrero.

My only regret is that I didn't order twice as much, and in fact looking through the menu more thoroughly now I'm back on the computer I can see the 'Meal Box' option which may be a better way of getting as much of that pork pibil down my neck as possible for £6. So next time, and of course there will be a next time, very soon, I will be a bit more confident (read: greedy) with the toppings, perhaps pick up some cream of chickpea soup as a little starter, and make sure I have a long leisurely lunch hour to ensure nothing comes between me and my food. For a fraction of the price and fanfare of certain other hugely overblown restaurants in London, Buen Provecho is producing the greatest Mexican food this side of the Yucatan, and is single-handedly responsible for restoring my faith in this most poorly represented of cuisines. Go, and enjoy it while you can before history repeats itself and Meatwagon-style fame descends on Arturo Ortega Rodriguez.

9/10

Arturo can be found on Lower Marsh Street market from mid-day until "whenever the food runs out, usually 2:30-3pm", Monday to Friday. He is also available for private catering and can be reached on 07908 210311.

#meateasy bacon cheeseburger picture linked with kind permission of Ross Bruniges.

#MEATEASY, New Cross

I read somewhere a while ago that the most requested final meal by death row inmates is a cheeseburger and fries. I used to think that this was a bit of a wasted opportunity - if you could ask for anything, literally anything, wouldn't you either go a bit more heavy on the expensive ingredients (the lobster tail and steak chosen by this rather unsavoury character seems suitably decadent) or alternatively treat the privilege as a chance to pull one final prank on your captors - "A large bowl of curried cormorant tongues and a plum on a doily please." But a cheeseburger? Really? Don't convicted murderers have any imagination? Of course, that was before I tried the Meatwagon Bacon Cheeseburger.


It remains not only the best burger I've had anywhere in the world (and yes, that includes these guys), but has become nothing short of an obsession. I dream about its salty, beefy goodness (a special blend mince, never frozen, precisely 15% fat), its crispy bacon topping (boiled, pressed and crumbled above the beef, adapted from a method used in Hodad's in California), the slick of melted yellow "cheese" (from a secret supplier). I tracked the movement of that silver van around London like a man possessed, turning up first in the queue at as many showings as I could possibly manage (though avoiding North London, obviously - I do have some dignity). I once, and I'm not proud of this, ate three of them in one sitting because I was worried I wasn't going to be able to make the next date he was in town. In fact, sod it, I am proud of that. And if you're shaking your head in disbelief and wondering how on earth any foodstuff can be worth that kind of devotion, then you've not tried it. Simple as that.


But then, disaster! The Meatwagon, burger van of dreams, mobile purveyor of beefy heaven, was stolen, and the future availability of my bacon cheeseburgers (and yeah, I suppose, the sole income and livelihood of owner Yianni Papoutsis, whatever) was cast into doubt. I was inconsolable, but a brave appearance of the van-less Yianni at the Florence a few days later, manning hired grills in the freezing pub garden like the trooper he is, demonstrated that the concept of the Meatwagon can live on even without the existence of the van itself. Which brings us to a soon-to-be-renovated old boozer on the New Cross Road, and the glorious birth of #MEATEASY.



For a limited time only, in fact barely a couple of months, Yianni has access to a proper kitchen, a small but efficient group of waiting staff, and a fantastic cocktail bar run by Soul Shakers, in a temporarily but remarkably effectively decorated function room above the Goldsmiths Tavern. The space and equipment has allowed him, for the first time, to do proper fries, and bloody good they are too, crunchy outside and soft within, gently salted and of correct proportions (ie. thin). Buffalo chicken wings, which made frustratingly rare appearances on the Meatwagon's menu, also appear at #MEATEASY - simply slow-roasted in (I believe) Frank's Hot Sauce and deep-fried, they have remarkably crispy skins despite not having any breadcrumb coating, and knock out of the park the poor efforts I've had elsewhere in the capital; onion rings are so cleverly cooked you can bite off chunks without having the onion draw out of the middle of the batter like a rubber band, a feat not even Hodad's themselves could manage; the sensational chilli dog uses a firm and flavoursome beef sausage inside a soft bun, topped with rich chilli and melted cheese; and the chicken burger was a revelation - crispy and moist in all the right places, dressed delicately with sweet mayonnaise and lettuce. Like every other item on the menu, it is meticulously researched, perfectly constructed and unbelievably delicious.


And, of course, there's the bacon cheeseburger. Loose, pink minced beef soaked in American cheese, topped with a layer of crunchy, salty pig and shredded lettuce, all inside a fresh sourdough bun that never loses its shape or collapses despite the frankly astonishing amount of beef juice that gushes out with every bite. I hoovered up the buffalo wings and chilli dogs and fries with the enthusiasm they deserved, but the bacon cheeseburger will still be my first love; I ate it in rapt silence, alone in my own little world, savouring every second.


That you should make every possible effort to visit the #MEATEASY while you can is beyond doubt. My hyperbolic endorsement has the usual caveat - Yianni's astonishing attention to detail and devotion to the end product come with the kind of timescales that stretch the concept of "fast" food somewhat - but you know what? It's bloody worth it. So grab a seat, kick back, grab a dry martini, place your order and I absolutely guarantee that the first moment that bacon cheeseburger touches your lips all will be forgiven.

#MEATEASY opens today, 12th January, and will be above the Goldsmiths Tavern on New Cross Road until mid-March. I visited on a preview night and didn't pay, but the burgers are about £6 and other items similarly reasonable. Yianni has teamed up with long-time supporter Scott Collins of pub group ‘The Capital Pub Company’ and the building will eventually
be completely refurbished and reopen under its original name ‘The New Cross House’.

Thanks to Lizzie of Hollow Legs for the pictures of the chilli dog, wings and onion rings, and Euwen for the shot of the bacon cheeseburger.