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

Giraffe / South Bank,London

…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.

- Rob.​

Roam Artisan Burgers / San Francisco, CA

“You’ve got to do something pretty remarkable for the hyper-connected SF populous to notice you…”

Straight off the plane after a delayed flight, we dump the bags at the hotel, hail a cab and head straight for Roam Artisan Burgers which sits more or less in the middle of Union Street. The next time you’re in San Francisco, I recommend you do exactly the same thing because Roam has my top burger of 2011. It’s called the French and Fries, and here it is:

A luxurious combo of creamy California avocado, dijon mustard, melted gruyere and watercress with a few truffle-oiled parmesan fries poking out just for the sheer hell of it. This thing was a fucking revelation. Roam aren’t scared to shift from burger tradition and introduce a few unorthodox ingredient combinations, and frankly they nail it every time. You’ve got to do something pretty remarkable for the hyper-connected SF populous to notice you (and form the consequent, ever-present queue out the door) and Roam have done that with laid-back aplomb.

Each burger is put together with genuine care, and all the individual ingredients are the best they can be. The bun is firm but squidgy, the patties are flawlessly cooked and the meat flavour is never masked by the addition of various homemade sauces.

To gush further, all of Roam’s speciality burgers cost eight bucks each.

Eight dollars.

It’s so unfair.

I’ve not had anything as confidently brilliant as the F&F anywhere else this year.

For the sake of comparison, we tried the Heritage burger. It’s a slightly more traditional bacon cheeseburger, albeit with fontina cheese instead of Swiss or American. It was also effortlessly competent.

A quick mention must also go to the ‘Fry-fecta’, a selection of all three types of fries: russet potato, sweet potato and courgette with onion. Supermodel looks, salty more-ishness and not a hint of grease anywhere to be found. Sharing them almost broke out into a fight. Heaven as starch.

I cannot stress enough how much of an SF must Roam is.

EIGHT FUCKING DOLLARS!

• Simon.

Roamburgers.com

The Roaring Fork / Austin, TX

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.

The Meatwagon / Peckham Rye, London

There’s a movement gaining ground in London at the moment. As Byron Hamburger spreads across the capital with breakneck speed (and eventually capsizing aging Hamburger Unions and weary GBKs in its wake), the joy of finding a decent hamburger in the capital is becoming less of a rarity. I’m a big fan of Byron. They’re mainstreaming and quality-controlling the expansion of a decent burger experience. This is something London is not used to.

At the opposite end of the scale, away from the building sites and the neatly printed menus and expensive agency branding, you’ll find The Meatwagon. Behind a large van in a very typical Zone 2 industrial estate a few minutes walk from Peckham Rye station, sits an unbranded, unassuming little food van. This is the celebrated Meatwagon. I first came across the ‘wagon from a similarly burger-afflicted friend who pointed me in the direction of their Twitter account. It said they weren’t going to be around for a few weeks. Harrumph.

And then, on a Wednesday afternoon, an update. It’s back. Thursday and Friday. From 12pm ‘until we run out’. Ominous. Tempting. Only nine minutes on the train from London Bridge.

A flurry of instant messages between me and another burger critic, and we’re set for Friday.

After stumbling through some leafy Peckham side streets, getting a bit lost, and a quick ‘that can’t be it’ double-take, we’re standing before a beaming Yianni, who gleefully tells us he can do a cheeseburger, bacon cheeseburger or chilli burger. With chips. Triple-cooked. Obvs.

I think the pictures do these justice, but there’s a few points to make here. Yianni uses 100% chuck which he pulls out of a little fridge in big fistfuls and bashes them into patties in front of you. Salt and pepper. The bacon is interesting. He boils up a side of bacon, shreds some off and bashes that into a patty too. It’s thick and chewy, like American crispy bacon without the fat, chemicals and over-saltiness. As for the chilli, it’s half a green chilli fried in butter with a touch of stock. Genius. Both are thrown on top of the patty on the grilling plate before the piece de resistance goes on last. The cheese.

Two slices of it come out of the fridge. It looks like Kraft. We ask if it is Kraft, like a pair of over-excited children. Yianni smiles and says “No, it’s real cheese. It’s taken me ages to source this and it’s my secret. I’ll happily tell you about the rest of the process, but the cheese is my secret weapon”. We don’t push.

The buns are locally sourced white sourdough. Soft. Unseeded. Exceptional. Yianni carefully lattices mustard and ketchup on each side so they have a perfect covering.

And when we get to eating it, the fact we’re standing next to a bin in a glorified car park in Peckham just melts away. The meat is juicy, flawlessly pink and perfectly seasoned. The cheese which has since melted into the patty renders us speechless and  is as close as you’ll ever get to a west coast In’n’Out-alike. The meat-to-bun-to-condiment ratio is perfect. We are ecstatic.

If you’ve got anything more than a passing interest in quality burgers, then follow the Meatwagon. Yianni said he’ll be back in a few weeks time. The Meatwagon is his part-time dalliance when he’s not doing proper catering jobs. Get down there. It’s an adventure and it’s London’s best burger. It’s a damn sight better, and 100% more Guerilla, than that other place.

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