A burger in the suburbs that could show the Central London spatulosos a thing or two
Viewing entries tagged
chilli
“As a certified US import we were pretty darn excited.”
Despite looking like a cafe that an eccentric old Londoner had decorated after being inspired on a recent ‘Polynesian Dreams’ cruise, Kua’ Aina is a renowned chain that’s been banging out burgers in Hawaii since 1975.
What Kua ‘Aina nicely summarises is the multitude of problems the American export has to face. Since we’re a scarcity-fuelled bunch, you can look at the list of chains that have jumped the pond and draw a few conclusions. To pull out a few examples:
- TGI Fridays. Not really any different to how it is in the States, but we’d much prefer it to be a Cheesecake Factory. Or a Bennigan’s (RIP).
- Taco Bell. The few franchisees who have taken the risk have stuck to the out of town locations (ie. Lakeside), and all they have to do is rehydrate some stuff that comes in boxes anyway.
- Wendy’s. Tried in the 90s, failed, then left. Arguably they’d probably be doing quite well if they came back now.
- Carl’s Jr. Oft-rumoured. Zero brand recognition on this side of the pond. Why bother?
- In-n-Out / Shake Shack / Five Guys - breathless tweets from those in the know often fuel speculation that they’re ‘looking for sites in Soho’ or some other horseshit. Whatever.
And the problems they face if and when they do come over are plentiful. First of all there’s a totally different type of consumer with their own idea of what a burger should be. Then you’ve got a different set of supply chain hurdles: price, quality and geography can ruin you. The sheer thought of, say, the Cheesecake Factory invading us with their pricing and portioning strategies and somehow keeping it profitable is enough to make your head spin.
Those that rely on actual cooking could be in a bit of trouble.
So on to Kua ‘Aina. As a certified US import we were pretty darn excited. Seating upstairs is a tight squeeze, like Ryanair overhead compartment tight. But hey, it’s got seating, and a downstairs area too, and the staff were delivering food quickly despite the lack of space.
The 1/2lb Bacon Cheese and 1/3lb Ortega Chili Burger arrived promptly, but were sorry looking specimens indeed - the cheese that presented itself had barely melted, was pale, and sweatier than The Rock in Fast Five1. The peppers atop the Chili burger appeared deflated and apologetic.
And they were small. So very small.
Also, you’ll notice, they had been served open. Mayo generously slathered on the top bun. Now, Rob is immediately confused. He’s been served an open burger, with one condiment added, but other condiments placed suggestively on the table. We know what a pedant he is.
No hesitation, the Heinz and French’s went straight on. Even then, they’re not particularly attractive. The dusty black char look ominous, and the tightly seeded buns are tough to cut.
But looks aren’t everything, so we persevered. It didn’t get much better. Whilst the 1/2lb patty was okay, the 1/3 pounder was covered with a thick gnarly crust that left an all-consuming burnt taste. Possibly a victim of the two-different-sizes-but-same-grilling-time issue, we pontificate. The bacon was rock solid and near on impossible to bite through, with whole chunks forcibly removing themselves in the first mouthful. The bun is too dense and the seeds go straight between your teeth, where they will then stay for for the rest of the afternoon.
The word ‘chili’ in the description of the other offering takes you down a bit of a false alley, as there was not an ounce of heat in the burger at all. However, having read up on Ortega chilis now that’s not surprising. The lack of any flavour from the pepper was just as disappointing, as its only purpose was as an unnecessary layer of squish. No cheese either.
The liberal mayo smothering tries to cover many of the sins going on here, much in the same way a cheap fast food burger does from Sonic or Wendy’s or Carl’s Jr. The problem is the overall package doesn’t deliver the same salty, stodgy, satisfying hit.
We don’t revel in being negative, but there were few redeeming features to what we ate at Kua ‘Aina. As we looked around though, the club sandwiches we spied looked immense. Intrigue alone (OK, and greed) will probably get us back here to sample those.
The other conclusion is that maybe we just ordered badly. Perhaps if you roll your own instead of opting for a pre-packaged menu option, your experience may vary.
- Simon & Rob.
- You should see it. It’s actually great. The Rock spends all his screen time dripping everywhere. ↩
We’ve finally got proper American cheeseburgers being sold by multiple vendors in the capital at reasonable prices.
It’s Friday night, and we’re lamenting the lack of excitement our last few burgers have delivered. We wanted something fucking good. Little did we know we only had to wait 12 measly hours…
In a car park, at the rather lovely Brockley market, you’ll find three youthful dudes with a grill banging out some pretty buzzworthy burgers.
They look like they’re in their early twenties, wearing obscure hardcore band tees and American Apparel hoodies. And honestly, we were kind of jealous. Why the hell weren’t we this proactive when we were their age?? We ordered all three of the burgers on offer, and then impatiently watched the impressively slick cooking from the grill boss and efficient construction from his buddies.
And, well, the burgers are excellent. Let’s have a closer look at a three course burger lunch:
Starter - The Mother Flipper
Their take on a classic cheeseburger, and our standard ‘control’ burger.
The first bite of the smashed, well-seasoned patty hits with a salty, deep meatiness from the concentrated juices pressed into the crust on the grill. It’s brilliant. The cheese is substantial, two slices thickly melted perfectly over the patty with a rather ingenious homemade cloche. A lattice of ketchup just takes the line over a spiral of French’s in the mix. Finished with some shredded iceberg and a beefy slice of pickle in the middle, it’s a very accomplished take on a classic.
And the brioche bun, from an undisclosed ‘artisan bakery in North London’ (we all need a secret ingredient or two) is impressive - solid, substantial and just soft enough, it contains everything without struggling from all the juice.
Mains: Double Candy Bacon Flipper
Two slightly smaller cheese-covered patties contained in a similiar set up to the Motherflipper, except with sweet, sticky candied bacon (which had a similar smokiness to Oscar Mayer). Nice to see a double patty bacon option here.
Pudding: Chilli Flipper
A really awesome and original take on a chilli burger, the pepper and onion mixture on the patty packs the heat of a kebab shop chilli sauce on one level, with a fragrant chinese-style lemongrass finish. It’s a complex and memorable kick, which lingers nicely.
Boom. Three superb courses.
These are really solid sandwiches prepared with startup, haphazard love: from the grill that occasionally teases hot and cold to the cunningly homemade cloches, by a guy you might bump into at the Turtle.
One final thing to say. It would be very feasible for someone to just order a cheeseburger and write it off as a competent Meatwagon rip-off. We recall this happening to the Lucky Chip guys last year and it saddens us enormously.
To those people we’d just like to say the following:
- Christ guys, it’s OK for there to be more than one Proper American Cheeseburger in London. FFS.
- If they’re similar then that’s because they’ve both Done It Right.
We’ve finally got proper American cheeseburgers being sold by multiple vendors in the capital at reasonable prices. Party times.
So this is a must return for us, and a must venture south for all you lot.1
Get down there. This Saturday. GO ON.
- Rob.
- Simon.
- It would also be great to see these guys join the ranks of the Eat Street collective. Nudge, nudge. ↩
The patty was as good as you’d expect in a restaurant at this level - well seasoned, delicately pink in the centre and wicked juicy.
The Roaring Fork is slap bang in the middle of downtown Austin, cuddled up to the InterContinental and just down the street from the lovely Paramount cinema. This is classic steak and cocktail territory, the kind of thing other national chains base themselves around, but with a distinctively upscale cowboy vibe.
We snuck in for a quick burger lunch to escape the heat.
The tantalisingly-monickered $13 Big Ass Burger awaited. A hefty, shiny, properly laid out steakhouse burger, easily a half-pounder, with poblano peppers, American cheese and bacon. Elsewhere on the menu is a $15 Kobe beef option, but the pesto aioli meant we left it on the sidelines this time.
The Big Ass Burger arrived closed with a healthy portion of fries and a side order of green chili macaroni cheese. On first glance the shine and colour of the bun was hugely pleasing, and when split the burger held its structure very well and was beautifully soft. The patty was as good as you’d expect in a restaurant at this level - well seasoned, delicately pink in the centre and wicked juicy.
The green chilli mac didn’t pack as much heat as the name suggests, but was a rich ‘n saucy poshed-up example. Solid, but not life-altering.
Overall this was one of the tidiest Austin burgers we’ve had, despite its ample proportions. Great service and a welcome escape from the bustle of downtown Austin. Recommended if you want a relaxed sit-down lunch instead of chasing down a local foodtruck.
- Simon.
