Coffee shop it clearly is not - vivid, gaudy, and in your face, right down to the sign at the entrance to the toilets that promises ‘THRILLS’. We’d hardly call taking a shit thrilling.
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Even the doltish pre-launch copywriting of ‘sexy burgers’ and ‘triumphant hot dogs’ reeked of branding agency oversteer…
Despite being at the tail end of some gnarly hangovers, you don’t turn down a free shot…
With the Fatt crew firmly ensconced in the Sun and 13 Cantons (a name we get wrong practically every time we try to tell it to anyone), a Fuller’s pub just off Beak Street, why not see if they could pull off a P&B-style feat of betterment?
Unfortunately it felt like they couldn’t wait for us to get out of there…
When we got there though, we were met with the predictably sharp intake of breath from the maître d’ and an hour long wait for a couple of seats at the bar. So what to do in the meantime? Well, Mishkin’s is right next door, so why not go and try the burger they were sold out of last time?
This is one of those fancy pub burgers for the flash city worker crowd, in keeping with where it’s situated. But, we guess it’s just a bit too fancy for us. Too much unnecessary gastro-flair.
It’s getting harder and harder to find a proper boozer-looking boozer in London, but the 3 Compasses is one of them, channelling the character of a sparse Working Man’s club, complete with rudimentary furniture, but run by some very friendly Dalstonites.
The ever-improving standard of the brioche burger bun is a heartening thing, and this is one of the better examples
The burger is now a star item, not a sorry runner-up to all the ‘proper’ dishes on the mains list