…floured baps just don’t do it for me - they lack any bite.
Mum popped to town the other day. I met up with her on the pedestrian equivalent of the A303 during the Summer Holidays, the South bank, and headed for a quick late lunch.
Now I quite like Giraffe. The world-cafe vibe is still kind of novel I guess, and some of their breakfast/brunch offerings are more inventive than the average restaurant, but my burger expectations weren’t that high.
I ordered their eponymous offering. This is what arrived:
The burger looked like it had been charred by a shitfaced dad at a family barbecue, and the cheese looked burnt. Seriously, who grills processed cheese? EVERYONE knows it burns to a rank crusty skin when you grill it. I mean, I had requested American instead of the standard menu Cheddar, but still, you’re a fucking chef dude. Not impressed.
But then I chopped it open and my spirits lifted a bit. The slight crust on the burger added nice texture to the otherwise soft and moist innards. The mayo was present in abundance, although the chipotle sauce wasn’t. At all. The standards were all there to add to the classic burger taste, but floured baps just don’t do it for me - they lack any bite.
Sounds like I’m hating on it right? Honestly, it was pretty ok for a chain restaurant effort. BUT - and maybe I’m still monetarily stuck in the early naughties - £11 for a burger like this still seems pretty steep.
In other news, my mum loved her ribs.