Voodoo Doughnut / Portland, OR

“…so sweet it actually hurt my teeth.”

If Krispy Kreme are the jocks sitting on the bleachers boasting about how much they bench, then Voodoo Doughnuts is the gathering of goths sitting beneath them, smoking weed and attempting to ignite the letterman jackets above with their Pentagram Zippos.

Everything about this place is brilliantly irreverent and suggestive, from the tagline (‘The magic is in the hole’), to the names of the doughnuts (there’s one called Butterfingering) to the staff.

Our waitress went to put our doughnuts in a bag, so I asked ‘Do you have a box?’ With the deadpan sardonicism of April Ludgate, she replied ‘Of course I have a box’, pausing.

Cue plummy Brit embarrassment.

We had queued for around 20 minutes before we got served but, dang, was it worth it. The selection of doughnuts they have is mind blowing, and with a queue of baying sugar-fix seekers waiting, as a first time visitor you feel pressured to pick almost randomly.

We went in the afternoon, which was probably why they had already sold out of the Old Dirty Bastard. But I reckon we could have picked any of them and left happy; they were all so good:

The signature Portland Cream was stuffed with the aforementioned, encased in a fluffy dough shell with a soft top of milky chocolate icing.

It was stick-your-middle-finger-in-the-face better than any similar styled doughnut I’ve ever had. The maple bacon bar also deserves mention for brazenly sticking two slices of bacon on top, and being so sweet it actually hurt my teeth.

Despite the incredible array of toppings and fillings, the lightness of the dough is the champion here. Goth-smokingly wicked. It’s essential Portland.

voodoodoughnut.com

• Rob.

Joe Allen / Covent Garden, London

OK, as a precursor to this review, let me throw down some B/A burger theory for y’all. Burgers are usually served up in one of two ways:

• The ‘Open’ Burger

Whereby the lid of the bun is placed separately on the plate or partially resting on the edge of a burger, revealing the meaty innards and other contents. Occasionally the bun lid will be bare, occasionally it will play host to the salad elements of the burger, occasionally the ‘salad’ will be on the side of the plate, occasionally they will place it on the burger. Condiments may or may not be included. There appear to be no steadfast rules on this. Usually applied by restaurant burger offerings.

• The ‘Closed’ Burger

The bun lid is on top of the burger and all composite ingredients are already tucked in. For the most part, this is the method of the convenience burger industry. Now, the ‘Open’ method innately suggests that the burger is incomplete and that the eater will add his or her condiments, the salad items of his or her choosing, and close the bun content in the knowledge that personal preference has been satisfied in this area. But come on guys, this is real laziness. Some of the genuine joy of trying a new burger for me is seeing how the place has made it and what ingredients they have used.

A burger should be served as a whole and should be a product of the flavour choices the chef has chosen to combine into a good sandwich. Leaving the top open is close to heresy in this respect and is a major bugbear of mine.

Like, a restaurant wouldn’t serve a chicken and mushroom pie with the pasty top at the side and the chicken and mushroom in separate dishes so the diner can decide how the meat to veg ratio is best would they? No. Exactly.  

So with that all off my chest, let’s move on to the Joe Allen Bacon Cheeseburger…

Everything about this burger is pretty good:

• the bun is a robust yet satisfyingly squidgy brioche
• the patty is thick with quality meat
• they don’t half fling a fuck-ton of nicely melted cheese on it.

But then we get to the ‘Open’ situation.

Two spears of pickle and a whole, thick slice of raw onion cosy up to the side of the burger for potential insertion. Ketchup and American mustard are requested. Everyone at the table sets about constructing their burger like kids eagerly making a space station out of lego: I add two of the larger rings of onion, both pickle spears and, using the tried and tested Meatwagon technique, I alternately lattice my ketchup and mustard onto the bun lid.

Then we eat.

Exclamations of how good the burger is bounce around the table, and yes, my burger tastes kinda great: the right sauce distribution, heavy on the pickle, relatively light on the onion. But then, it should taste how I like it. I CONSTRUCTED IT.

And this is the point I’m trying to make: I don’t want to know have a good idea of how the burger is going to taste, I want it to be a mystery. That’s why we love burgers so much, because each one can be unique even though the basics are essentially the same. So even though I enjoyed it, there was a slight pang of disappointment.

joeallen.co.uk

• Rob.

The Joe Allen burger is an off-menu “secret” item.

The Admiral Codrington / Chelsea, London

Nestled on a road a stone’s throw from the Conrans and Chanels of South Kensington, ‘The Cod’ is an upmarket pub, of a similar ilk to the area it’s in (the bar staff all wear matching formal striped shirts, pints cost over four quid), but luckily lacking it’s pretention and stuffiness. Still, I went in wearing a hoodie and carrying a Boots carrier bag and felt like a right tramp.

The burgers’ arrival were greeted a with hushed silence from the table. The patty looked HUGE, and the juices flowing down the burger onto the plate were so mesmerising I made a video of it. Seriously.

On first bite, there’s a rich, sweet ketchuppy tang. Under the top bun is a deep red spread, which I was later told was primarily onion, red wine and tomato juice reduced down to an almost-puree and then thinly spread. It was a brilliant addition, and complimented the patty, which was moist and soft, adding a depth to the meatiness and sweetness of the beef..

This was paired with a sauce, which I gathered was a mayonnaise with flecks of coarse-grain dijon mingled in. This, mixed with the meat, the reduction, and the pickles meant every delicious taste blended and combined to create something very original and, I think, quite special.

All the juice of the burger, the sauce and tomato conspired to decimate the bottom of the bun, it capitulated quickly. But I couldn’t say I really cared, the taste of the whole thing was so *interesting* and jammed full of *flavour*. 

Now, at 15 notes, this is squarely in the pricey end of the burger spectrum. Hawksmoor money. But, I’d say it’s well worth it. And the place itself lends itself to a nice, relaxing dinner. So, next time you fancy a burger for, say a birthday, or an anniversary, or fuck it, a Wednesday, get yourself down here.

Oh, wait, the **SNACKS**:

Hats off to the mini sausages. These were INSANELY good. Ever so slightly bigger than a cocktail sausage. Covered in a honey and Dijon Mustard glaze, they had a caramel-like quality in it’s consistency and sweetness. They went. Quickly. The calamari rings were fresh, crisp, not greasy at all, combined with slithers of green chilli peppers that added real fire. The Pork crackling was thinly sliced like skinny curly fries, light and bubbly with a rich, sweet apple dipping sauce - very clever. 

theadmiralcodrington.co.uk

• Rob.

Gott's Roadside / San Francisco

But the sauce…

This place is nestled within the Ferry Building Marketplace, which fells like a cross between Borough Market and the arty-farty food court at Stratford Westfield. Only more awesome. Than both. See #AmericansDoItBetter. It has a canteen/trendy bar/workshop vibe about it, which works since it does indeed manage to be both trendy and comfortable at the same time.

I like that they are attempting to blur the line between the restaurant burger and the fast food burger here - It was pretty quick to arrive and looked great, the yellow colouring of the bun innards popping on first glance.

It was a solid effort. A well cooked patty and wicked gooey American cheese with all the necessary extras. But the sauce… well, the sauce just added a *meh* factor.

Yeah, most ‘special sauces’ have their basis in a version of Thousand Island. But, don’t just use Thousand Island, which it tasted like Gott’s did. Maybe I’m being harsh and they do create their own sauce, but it’s so uncannily Thou’land that it just detracted from the positives of the rest of the burger.

I’d go back to try their other offerings, and their bacon cheeseburger, because it’s such a neat place, in a really neat place.

gotts.com

• Rob.

Cafe 222 / San Diego, CA

It’s a hard knock yolk

In the past, I’ve always been ‘You CANNOT get a bad Eggs Benedict in the states esse’ (Yup, just like that). Well, you can scratch that now, I found a place.

Having found some good reviews of Café 222, we wandered for way longer than our hangovers desired to check it out. We were both in a Benedict mood so I had the pork patty version, whilst my compadre had the standard.

It was a less than overwhelming sight when it arrived. The hollandaise looked like it had separated a bit on both our plates, leaving speckles of melted butter floating around. It tasted like it looked, heavy and buttery. And when I cut into the eggs, the yolks were hard. I was like, this must be a mistake, but my friend cut into his and.. the same. Who cooks the yolks to solid in a fucking Benny?! The griddled potatoes were ok, but not enough of a saving grace for that travesty.

This place had won some gold medallion food award SIX years in a row? Fuck that shit.

Luckily, we also ordered a much-lauded-on-the-interwebs waffle. Our choice was the stuffed granola, and it was great. The chunks of granola intermingled with the waffle batter was a novel touch, and tasty as with heaps of maple syrup poured over. Now *there* was the saving grace we’d been looking for. If I’d’ve just had the Benny, I’d’ve been pissed.

cafe222.com

• Rob.

Slammin' Sliders Truck / Los Angeles, CA

“I guess I expected more from something with ‘Kobe’ in the title…”

Sadly, the story of where I had to go to find this truck is *far* more interesting than the food that came from it: I found myself on USC’s Fraternity Row during some mental party night. Not only did I feel like a weird, peckish paedophile - trying not to look at any of the scantily clad sorority girls walking from frat house to frat house. But simultaneously, I felt like I was in some irreverent college film, so familiar did the surroundings feel to my moviephile self. Odd.

The beef sliders were distinctly unimpressive.

Uncondimented.

After adding some ketchup to them they tasted almost identical to McDonald’s cheeseburgers, just with slightly better meat - not necessarily a bad thing, I like the way they taste, but I guess I expected more from something with ‘Kobe’ in the title.

The pork sliders looked great, but the pork was really dry, with no BBQ sauce to accompany it. The slaw, whilst a colourful spectacle, tasted like crunchy-but-watery mayo and failed to moisten the pork.

In their defence, I did catch the place just as it was about to close, so maybe I didn’t get the freshest peak-time fare, but it turned me off going back there, and left me thinking that a good slider is always hard to find, even in the States.

slamminsliders.com

• Rob.

Hawksmoor Guildhall / Guildhall, London

“It feels odd saying that you should visit a steakhouse to sample the pastry chef’s baking.”

Hawksmoor introducing breakfast as a permanent fixture at their new Guildhall location is smart. I’ve already spent a few hundred words on how damn smart they are, so let’s look at the actual food.

Chemex

Smart. Looks grandiose. Unusual to find too, since most places will happily charge you £3-a-pop on coffee, to the extent you’ll only have one, and then leave feeling under-caffeinated. Chemex is smart. A word of warning though, it certainly doesn’t stay warm for long.

The H&K muffin

Evil genius. There are two eggs in there. It has the same cheese/starch/meat combo hit of a McMuffin, but does it without the dirt. It’s £8.50. That’s a bargain.

Eggs Benedict

The ability to deliver a good eggs benny is the yardstick I’ve long used to rank restaurants in order of breakfast ability. Keeping a good hollandaise going is tough. It demonstrates skills. It’s also something you’re rarely arsed to make from scratch at home. Again, it’s perfectly executed here. One of the best I’ve had in the UK, especially if, like me, you like your hollandaise nice and vinegary. The quality of the ham helps elevate it too.

Marmelade French Toast

A small portion, but it’s rich. Light, fluffy but with expansive qualities. I’m not a marmelade guy at all, but the dish maintains a sweet and citrussy thrall, with just enough sugar. Mrs D felt it slightly underdone, but that’s just how I like it. How did they know. Etc. etc.

Scotch Pancakes with bacon

The difference here is the maple syrup is proper and that these are scotch pancakes. They’re not buttermilky American pancakes. Think dropscone and add some more lemon. Nice.

Doughnuts. Baked Goods.

The secret weapon. Right up there with the very, very best. It feels odd saying that you should visit a steakhouse to sample the pastry chef’s baking.

The Point of it All

If you’ve been putting off visiting Hawksmoor due to wallet restrictions, then my advice is book a table for breakfast and go for it. You can spend £15-20 per head and get some of the best morning food in the capital. Keep away from the steak and you’ll be fine. I’m sure the steak and eggs are lovely, but they’re not going to be as special as these Britished-up takes on American breakfast classics.

Be sure to check out the breakfast gallery for pictures of all of the above

and then have a quick read of our essay on why Hawksmoor are so fricking smart.

• Simon.

Hawksmoor

Henry's Tavern / Portland, OR

Points go to this Bar-cum-Craft Beer Mecca-cum-Restaurant for having a Happy Hour that runs from 9 till close pretty much every night, and for putting a burger on their Happy Hour menu. We were slightly hesitant as the place looked a touch on the expensive side, but we were flipping starving and so pleased to see the Happy Hour Cheeseburger come in at a very budget-conscious six bucks.

The burger wasn’t too shabby - it was a good size, if a little dry due to condiment shyness. The plentiful cheddar complimented the onion bun really well creating a pretty good flavour combo. I mean, cheese and onion, who’d’ve thunk it?

I wolfed it down. I then spent some quality time with some of the local Oregon beer offerings, of which there are maaaaaany. I recommend the Widmer Drifter.

Henry’s Tavern

• Rob.

Elliot's Café / Borough Market, London

So Rob is back from the West coast tour and while we wait for him to compile the epic list of dive bars, food trucks and various Denny’s locations he visited, here’s a little write-up of Elliot’s in Borough Market.

I’ve been keen on Elliot’s ever since they ran a highly celebrated pop-up in Victoria Park’s Pavilion Cafe. Now it’s open, Borough Market finally has a restaurant that is correctly positioned. Roast is too sartorially aware and posh. Applebee’s is too dirty. Black & Blue is grossly misplaced, looking like a cavernous, empty, shiny insult to the neighbouring Ginger Pig. I never went to the Oyster place. The sushi restaurant is uninviting. None of the pubs serve anything remotely edible. This could well be the Market’s first proper restaurant that feels like it actually belongs there.

Borough is a food enigma, and over the last few years has begun to spiral into a joke what with the former MD being a tit, the rampaging tourism, the neverending rail bridge build, booting out great traders and the overall quality of available produce being a bit embarrassing. It is a place of queues and disappointed tourists chewing on disappointing takeaway sandwiches. I worked next to Borough for nearly two years, and watched this steady, gradual decline happen right infront of me. I saw legions of sandwich-chewers wondering what the fuck all the fuss was about. Any small town market across the Channel makes Borough look like the preening, over-praised street-bauble it really is.

So I was excited to go back for the first time in months to see what Elliot’s had done. Maybe they’d captured the essence of what it used to be and had made good on their mission of uncomplicated, good food using market traders to source ingredients.

We ordered burgers. They took about 25 minutes to arrive. At the time of writing, they are only available at lunchtime. They come served with shoestring fries, which I left most of. Shoestrings can be amazing, but these were like a plateful of the broken bits you get in the bottom of a bag of McCoy’s. Hard to eat.

They were also accompanied by a few slices of pickled cucumber. I would prefer a proper dill pickle, but can get behind the sentiment. There was also an excellent homemade spicy ketchup.

As for the burger, it’s not as revelatory as others are suggesting. The beef is excellent quality and very tasty. The olive oil bun is the best thing on the plate. Soft, yet solid enough to prevent any spillage. The cheese is salty and posh, and therefore not quite melted properly, and I think there are some onions in there too. My main complaint is the lack of saucing. After a lacklustre first half, I emptied the remainder of the aforementioned spicy ketchup, and the whole thing improved immeasurably. Had there been a mayonnaise in that bun, and perhaps some mustard to wake up the beef, I think this could be a real contender as a top London British burger. Bread nerds should certainly sample the bun: it’s really excellent.

I think Elliot’s is lovely. Borough does finally have a restaurant that matches its aesthetic, and everything else on the short, simple menu sounded great.

I think they’ve succeeded with everything they were trying to do and I hope the rest of the area can start to meet this new standard.

• Simon

• Elliot’s serves cheeseburgers on weekday lunchtimes.

[CLOSED] Harlem Drug Store / Clerkenwell, London

How übertrendy is the name, right? It’s like it should be perched somewhere on Shoreditch High Street, Having crazy faux-Corner Shop sign outside, shabby-chic diner housed inside…

It’s not. And it doesn’t.

It’s clear that this place used to be something like a Thai restaurant – the sharp, dark wood interior, the neatly dressed tables - after doing minimal research, we were wrong, it was Malaysian. I’m guessing it’s still owned by the same people, who are now attempting to cash in on the success currently enjoyed by Byron et al.

To say we felt mildly disconcerted walking in would be fair, and the service that followed achieved the same feeling: the Diet Cokes we ordered came in wine glasses, and cost three pounds (Like, isn’t that what WINE by the glass costs?) The fries came in a tiny almond-shaped boat dish, probably used for side orders of vegetables in the previous incarnation. The ketchup and mustard came in soy sauce dishes.

The burgers we ordered were properly enormous, sizable hunks of meat. Sadly, the taste was as weird as the décor; the meat that soft, melt-in-the-mouth quality you want, but it was like it had been boiled instead of cooked on a grill. Kind of watery, it was in no way seared on the outside, giving it no texture.

The additions to the patty, what we thought were garlic and tarragon, were too overpowering and left a slightly undesirable after taste. And the bun (it’s like we’re ALWAYS going on about the buns) was just an oversized crusty bap which required some battling with the gnashers, with no real reward.

To give them their due, they clearly want to give customers a good burger eating experience. But they need to change a few things to make that happen:

-They need to buy a griddle first off, cos I’m pretty sure I saw the burgers being cooked in a frying pan – we were the only people in there, imagine trying to cook burgers that way with a full gaff.

-They need to deck the place out so it actually feels appropriate eating burgers ‘n steaks there.

In the meantime, I’d recommend going to the Betsey Trotwood next door and getting shitfaced instead. Sorry HDS.

• Rob.

Harlem Drug Store

Next to the Betsey Trotwood on Farringdon Road

London