[REVIEW] Cheeseburgers and Gastropubs / The Ship / Wandsworth, London
“The burger is now a star item, not a sorry runner-up to all the ‘proper’ dishes on the mains list…”
After spending about nine hours in The Ship, eating at least three burgers (and much of everything else on the menu) and drinking all the booze you can’t help but get a bit contemplative.
But first things first: that burger. It’s a real looker. Let’s take it all in for a second:
The bun is a lovely brioche, baked off-site. It’s fresh, delicately sweet, and holds its contents perfectly well. The beef is excellent. The lineage you would expect and it’s well seasoned on the grill. The most crucial ingredient is the cheese. They’ve taken to melting down blocks of Kraft, adding butter and a few other secret ingredients and reconstituting it into great big slabs. The end result is a thick, clingy layer of yellow joy that leaves no corner of the patty untouched. It’s really superb, and demonstrates attention to detail that most nearby specialist burger restaurants, let alone pubs, can lay claim to.
The burgers are flying out of that open kitchen. A quick glance around the room proves how popular they are. And the fries. God, the fries. They are McDonald’s to the core. Which is funny because there’s a sizeable McD drive-thru at the end of the road. A perfect accompaniment. They still do pub-style hand-cut fries to go with other dishes like the battered cod, so it’s great to see they’ve bothered to accessorise the burger so appropriately.
The chefs at the Ship also churn out brilliance like this rather lovely foie gras and chicken liver parfait:
and this rather inspired scallop with a fennel CLAW that will try to GET YOU:
Elsewhere on the menu you’ll find pigeon breast, sea bream in Parma ham, Guinea fowl with truffled mash - proper gastro fare. They do a mean Sunday roast. They have enormous riverside barbecues in the summer. The requisite Scotch Egg is a real keeper.
All this proper competition makes the burger even more successful.
It’s a pub we genuinely love, despite it being in stupid Wandsworth. We’re mostly just jealous of those that get to call it their local, and they’re the flipped-collar matching polo shirt brigade for the large part.
The Ship is primarily a Proper Food Pub. The aforementioned attention to detail is resplendent across the whole menu, no matter the time of year. And something interesting did emerge from discussing the burger’s development with manager Oisin, something our burger addiction wouldn’t even allow us to dream of:
Some chefs consider burgers to be a bit beneath them.
And breathe…
But when put into that context, especially with gastropubs, things start to make sense. One of two things usually happens:
- Chef takes burger seriously, comes up with kick-ass, well-researched sandwich and it becomes a massive menu hit without reducing quality or sheen on the rest of the menu. People travel from far and wide to taste it. Everyone is happy.
- Chef begrudgingly churns out lacklustre burger, just because manager says there needs to be one on the menu. It’s a bit shit. Rest of food stays just fine. Burger fans leave disappointed and don’t recommend it to anyone.
So The Ship sits squarely in option one. The burger is great, and will increase long range visits to The Ship. But how many times have we come across number two? All those purveyors of pork belly who spend their research time making amazing things, having to lower themselves to making a hamburger that costs less than a tenner? What a waste of talent!
It’s a sign of the times when so many pubs are adding ill-conceived and poorly executed burgers from reluctant head chefs to their menus. You only need to look at the reputation of The Ship, or The Admiral Codrington to see what great things can happen in pub kitchens. The burger is now a star item, not a sorry runner-up to all the ‘proper’ dishes on the mains list. They can sit alongside each other perfectly well.
There were even murmurings that The Ship’s meticulous take on the pub burger could be rolled out across the Young’s empire. What a thing that would be.
There are probably countless chefs in London who are waiting for this current wave of burger popularity to just fuck right off. Unsurprisingly, we think a corner has been turned, and that won’t be happening any time soon.
What’s more, anyone that truly loves food and their craft must relish the opportunity to stand out from all that mediocrity.
The Ship certainly does.
- Simon.
[REVIEW] Kimchi Cult x Rose & Crown / Walthamstow, London
“We’ll have the lot, please.”
The Rose & Crown is a big boozer nestled in the heart of the ‘Stow. It’s a classic ‘locals’ pub; the booze ‘n food offers sellotaped to the bar on neon card cut into star shapes, the local vagrant a mere drafty waft away and an eclectic music selection that throws Irish jigs followed by ambient jungle followed by Abba at you.
It’s also a celebrated CAMRA venue. We only know this because of the certificates on the wall. We know absolutely toss-all about real ale, but this pub is definitely on the circuit and they have an impressive array of regularly changing casks on offer, if that’s your thing.
It’s here where Kimchi Cult take over the kitchen for their Korean-style menu every Thursday night. We live in the mighty E17, so when we caught wind that someone was selling sliders at a pub a three minute bus ride away, we were straight down to sample everything we could get our hands on.
So, we ordered one of everything on their menu. It’s what we do.
We’ve come across Kimchi Cult before - a few times on Eat Street (where they pop up regularly) and when they were first getting started at Brick Lane Market. We’d not had their sliders or wings, since the street food tends to be geared towards subs. Being LA street food nerds, we’ve long been hankering after someone beefing up the Korean offerings here in London, Kogi BBQ style. There’s no Korean BBQ / Mexican fusion as you see over there, but we’re gradually heading in the right direction.
First out of the traps were the sliders: Kimchi burger, Kimchi Cheeseburger, Kimchi Cult Special (Bacon Cheeseburger), the Kimchi bacon and the Pulled Pork. Now, we won’t bore you right now, because that is for a longer post, but these are less ‘sliders’ than they are mini-burgers, but they are cute, dinky things indeed.
The stand out factor in most of these is, obviously, the namesake kimchi. You could liken it to the sauerkraut of Asia, with chunks of cabbage amongst a spicy red sauce, it provides a gentle, universal heat with a tiny side-pocket of sweetness to everything it covers.
Our recommendation would be the Kimchi Cheeseburger (surely you’d call it a Kimcheeseburger, right?) as it has the best flavour balance of kimchi, drippingly melted cheese and nicely (if only just slightly over-) cooked patty.
The pulled pork is boosted by a totally inspired fresh, zingy ginger coleslaw that got must-find-this-recipe shout outs instantly. If anything, the buns are a tad large and heavy dough-wise, but they don’t overly mask the taste of their contents.
However, Kimchi Cult really level up with their chicken wings.
They are outstanding - sticky, with a familiar base of chinese take away sweet and sour, but with a thump of hotness and extra lemongrass zip at the end. They taste double-fried.
We’d say the wings are worth braving the top end of the Victoria line for. We think they’re on to a real winner here, and get the inkling they do too.
Luckily you don’t have to travel up to the Walthamstow to check these guys out, as they pop up on Eat.st every now and again, and the wonderfully chatty Sarah told us there is more to come. We do hope so.
- Rob and Simon.
Kimchi Cult
★[REVIEW] All Three Burgers / Brewdog / Camden, London
“I myself will own up to being a terrible burger chef. My burgers always turn out too dry, or else they are so moist they just fall apart; I have a tendency to choose the wrong bun and cheese; and my topping-to-meat ratio is usually off. The only thing I’m good at is making sauces for my burgers, but that’s cheating. There is a certain alchemy to a good burger that I don’t understand, and that’s part of why I really love I good burger joint burger.”
Tim Anderson, Masterchef winner and all-round good dude, writing about burgers on his blog in 2009.
Our first official burger of 2012 took us to the first London bolthole of punk rock Scottish craft brewers, Brewdog. We’d heard that its short ‘n sweet burger ‘n pizza menu had been designed by none other than Tim Anderson.
You know Tim. Off the telly. Beer geek. Proper palate skills. Terrifyingly knowledgeable. Has cooked at the Fat Duck and Noma and other places starred to the hilt. He’s a Wisconsinite, so he has a proper home ice advantage with American fare. With just three burgers on the menu we thought we’d give them all a go out of courtesy, and also because they’re really sodding cheap.
The burgers came out closed and already cut in half, which we thought was awfully polite of them as it made the proceeding obligatory burger split photos much quicker and easier.
First we tried the Cheeseburger, known as the Los Feliz. Now, this is one thoroughly enjoyable burger. While the beef is pretty compact, visibly pre-prepped and not specifically memorable taste-wise, the overall package makes it a relishable prospect. The Punk IPA sauce looks like a Marie Rose but tastes like a mild Thousand Island nuzzled up to a Franco American mustard, and even some wasabi in there somewhere. It coats the underbelly of the burger with a tickly heat but doesn’t overpower it. Alchemy.
Plus, they totally lob it on the top and bottom bun, making the end product saucy in a gratefully American way; all too rare here in London. The cheese was dirty and deftly melted, combining with the wicked-smart sauce.
On to the Curry Burger. It also has a name. We can’t remember it though, because by then we were a few ales in. Although this may seem like a bleedin’ obvious statement, it actually tasted like a mouthful of beefy curry.
Nice one, Tim. It’s a genuine one-of-a-kind.
The spicy heat-laden patty is surrounded by a sweet, tangy chutney and a fresh cucumber yoghurt, with some cheese thrown in for good measure. No burger is complete without it, am I right? Uncannily curry-like and burger-ish simultaneously, this surprised and delighted the table.
Finally, the pork burger. The most expensive by fifty pence or so, it’s a chunky puck of minced pork with a sauerkraut base, pickle and plenty of mustard. The vinegar hit was on the money here, a brilliantly unsubtle accompaniment for the beers on offer, but ultimately this was our least favourite of the three.
It occurred to us very quickly that at £4.95, the Los Feliz is the best budget cheeseburger in London. It’s cheaper than the competition and the closest to a proper American budget cheeseburger yet, without any faux gastro posturing. And if that’s not your thing, the curry burger makes other attempts at novelty burgers just flat-out embarrassing.
We highly recommend Brewdog if you need a place to eat a decent burger and sup a quality IPA before going to see the latest post-Gothcore math-dubstep band at the Underworld.
And what pre-fame Tim wrote back in 2009? We think he’s cracked it.
- Simon
- Rob (And even though it weirds me out to say it, being the purists we are, I’d probably go for the curry one if you have to choose. But i’d recommend you take someone else and split that and the cheeseburger. They cut them in half for fuck’s sake, it’s practically a share request!)
Special thanks to Friend of B/A Pete for helping us with this one.
Our new burger patty is 100% British beef, nothing else. We use viennoise buns baked daily by The Bread Factory especially for us. Our bright orange melty cheese is a secret, as is the sauce, pickles and salad mix which makes it taste brilliant. Come down, try it, it’s juicy, naughty and tastes amazing.
Our buddies from one of B/A’s favourite pubs in London town, The Ship.
It sounds like they’ve got another reason to love them.
★[REVIEW] Cheeseburger / The Admiral Codrington / 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.
- Rob.
A short visual precursor to the full Admiral Codrington review…
