Fallow, Haymarket, London

Tasty but flawed – and expensive

Burger source 

Fallow‘s conceit is that is a place where “culinary creativity meets hospitality experience and passion.” That’s certainly how the menu is constructed, with inspired combinations of food and flavour on practically every plate, and the service was pretty excellent. Meat is a key attribute if not a defining feature of the menu, and the two “dairy cow” meat burgers on offer (one with rarebit cheese and shortrib, one with bacon, cheese & shallot alone)  stared temptingly at me. Why dairy cow meat? I didn’t ask, and the internet is awash with confusing answers. Some say a milder, less pronounced flavour, others say its inferior, others say there are some breeds where it tastes better. This one? Wait and see.

The order 

We shared (dairy) beef short rib to start (£13 buys you two), and then all had the dairy cow burger (feat, aged dairy cow, bacon, shallot, cheese, brioche bun, £19), and Koffman fries (£7). As you can see, the prices are not for the faint hearted.

The meat of it 

Let’s take a look.

Well, it’s rather fetching. The brioche bun seems to have crisped off the baking sheet, the lettuce looks fresh and inviting, the cheese (American?) seems to have the most glorious melt and ‘fallow’ is branded into the top bun.

In cross section…

Some good, some concerning things become apparent. First – the meat – coarse ground, tender to the point of melting at room temperature, pink with what seems to be a good crust. The cheese melt maintains confidence; the bacon doesn’t seem enormously evident and the shallots… are confusing.

Let’s peek under the bun.

I normally wouldn’t bother with this view but when eating the first half of the burger, I couldn’t taste any bacon. And this explains it – a small rectangle of bacon is all that’s in evidence here, and you can see the uneven distribution of the shallots too. Minus points for assembly and toppings, I think.

As to taste – this is, after all, the important thing…. the first bite is luxuriantly tender, the culinary equivalent of a goose down pillow, giving way to the lightest pressure with the barest of resistance. The cheese – definitely some variant of processed American – provides unguent umami, flavour and binding texture all in one. The bun provides starchy counterbalance but the bottom half is sodden and imploding in the juices from this very fatty patty. It’s not bad, but a second bite (with less cheese and no bacon) draws attention to the slight underseasoning and the lack of a crunch in the crust. Perhaps a feature of the dairy cow meat, there’s no textural contrast in the burger – it’s all soft – and the flavour, despite the dry ageing, is mild – without the funk you might expect from dry-aged cattle that’s been reared for its meat. The crunch, unexpectedly, comes from the shallots, which seem mildly pickled and provide a sour-sweetness and light crunch – not unpleasant, but I’d have preferred a more traditional gherkin/burger pickle, ideally something “home made” in a sweet brine. And when I eventually find the bacon – it’s a good compliment, a mild bacon that pairs well with the extremely salty cheese. The whole is well balanced – a good thing given the absence of any burger sauce, relish or other sauce I could detect, this could easily have tipped over into dead-sea levels of oversalted. But the bacon lacks any crunch – either sodden by the pickles and burger juices, or just too thick cut to crunch like American streaky bacon can (at its – debatable I’m sure – best).

It’s good, in all. Not great, and unsure if it is worth £19 plus 15% service (yep).

As to the sides/starters…

The glazed dairy cow baby back ribs look sumptuous, and just as well at £6.50 a rib. It’s hard to know what to expect but the tender, melt-off the bone meat speaks to a perfected cooking process. The flavour is all salt – its like it’s been marinaded then stewed in marmite; the flavour is not subtle at all. A single rib was plenty to start – any more and you might have had to ask for BBQ sauce…

Google tells me that the ‘Koffman’ in ‘Koffman fries’ refers to the potatoes used for chipping, and I wish I’d spent more time considering the potato texture and flavour now because honestly you’re kind of blown away by the seasoning. A mix of smoked paprika, salt, and maybe garlic or onion powder – I’m guessing from memory – these fries are crisp on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside, and more generously portioned than it might looks. The savoury blast is immense, which seems a running theme of this menu, and I was glad of ketchup and mayo dunking pots to take the edge off. Good, all told.

To drink, I had the somewhat confounding rhubarb and custard spritz (£15) – feat No.3 gin, rhubarb, yogurt and vanilla. You’d be forgiven for expecting something at least somewhat creamy, but no, it was this (right):

The ping tinged drink is served short, in a glass flecked with rhubarb powder, which is irritating and keeps needing to be wiped off sticky fingers. It has a sweet/sour flavour that’s entirely pleasant, and a light carbonation that lifts the drink and establishes its place in a Summer drinks pantheon. It’s refreshing and light and very tasty. A couple of my friends had the frozen margarita – £14, served from a slushy machine – which was apparently very good also.

All told – a very pleasant experience of a Summer’s evening on the edge of Theatreland. It was definitely expensive – £60 a head all told – but I think if you’re less of a philistine than we are and after some of the more creative cuisine on offer, then it might have been a better all round experience. The hard sought reservation for burgers? Probably overkill. Though a couple of my friends ranked it amongst the best we’ve had on one of these evening excursions… I’m left feeling nostalgic for the Lord Wargrave pub.

Monkey finger rating  

Bun –  4/5  – soggy bottom
Build – 2.5/5 – uneven toppings, meagre bacon, middling shallots
Burger – 4/5 – slightly underseasoned, undercrusted
Taste –  4/5  – the whole was better than the sum of its parts
Sides – 4.5/5 – Herr Koffman, I salute you
Value – 3/5 – maybe not great value for burgers. 

Burger rating – 4/5 – it was good, but I’m honestly not in a hurry to have it again 

The deets 

Find it a little more than halfway down Haymarket towards the Mall; pop into the Haymarket Hotel bar for a digestif as we did and it’s a lovely way to spend a summer evening with friends. But I’d probably have something other than the burger, despite its positive attributes.

Gordon Ramsay Plane Food Restaurant, Terminal 5, Heathrow

Confusing, overpriced, under-seasoned, overcooked burger that doesn’t deliver

Burger source

Gordon Ramsay is, by every objective measure, a spectacular chef. Restaurants around the world, TV series and Masterclasses; even a burger specialty restaurant in Vegas.  I’ve watched both his Masterclasses and really enjoyed them. And it turns out his airport restaurant has a short-rib cheeseburger on the menu, so I thought I’d give it a try.

The order

It’s the only burger on the menu; short-rib Monterey Jack cheeseburger with chimchurri mayo, served on a brioche bun with fresh salad and pickles.

The meat of it

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The burger looks good. There seems to be a good crust on the exterior, the Jack cheese is gloriously melted, the whole thing is perfectly assembled and presented on a piece of wax paper, enclosed in a toasted, shiny brioche bun.

Things aren’t dramatically wrong in cross section, either. Yes, the burger is overcooked – not a glimmer of pink anywhere – but the salad is protecting the bun, the tomato looks bright and fresh, the pickle is fragrant and the chimcurri mayo and beef fat are oozing delightfully out the edges of the burger. The beef is coarse ground and loosely packed, so I’m holding on to hope.

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On the first bite, however, things start to go wrong.

First, despite the overcooked centre, the char on the crust isn’t as crisp and satisfying as it looked. Worse, it’s under seasoned. Even with the cheese, the salty taste barely comes through.

Then, there’s the confusion of the chimchurri. It’s a sharp, fragrant flavour – made from parsley, vinegar, olive oil and other bits. It works well in butter on a steak – but in a burger, the flavours are confusing. There’s the salt of the cheese, possibly some salt from the seasoning on the burger (but this is lost), the sugary brioche, the bright crisp sweetness of the pickle and salad… well, it’s totally confounded by the sharp, tart, creaminess – ?? – of the chimchurri mayonnaise. In breadier bites, the bun was too sweet. When eaten with a mouthful of burger and mayo and salad – you have no idea what you’re tasting. It’s utterly perplexing, and not really in a good way.

The overcooked meat starts to wear, too. The burger feels relentless – and to be fair, whilst I finished it, I just very rarely leave food. That’s my bad. I should have left it. It wasn’t good. Unlike many of my burger experiences, the combination of the good individual parts somehow lessened the total experience. I can only explain this by guessing that….

  1. I was victim of an overzealous grill chef, and it would have worked better with a juicier medium patty
  2. I think more likely, someone who doesn’t have the same view of what a good burger should taste like was responsible for creating what, for me, was a Frankenstein’s monster of a burger

It’s a shame. There was definite potential. Swap out the chimchurri mayo for garlic aioli (or maybe red onion aioli – is that a thing?), get the burger cooked to medium, a tad more salt and a tad more heat on the grill – and this would have been a fine burger indeed. As it was, I had to dose the burger with over sweet ketchup to give it some kind of flavour coherence.

Sides wise, I wasn’t hungry enough (or feeling wealthy enough) to order a portion of £5 triple cooked fries to myself, so I relied on the ages-old tradition of eating leftover food off my kids plates. Zoe and Emily both had fish and “chips” – the same triple cooked fries on the menu as a side.  So I had a couple of theirs.

And whilst they’re not bad – they have the standard thick, crisp crust of anything that’s been triple cooked, and an appropriately floury centre – they’re not chips. They’re between a quarter and a sixth of a large potato EACH. So they’re alright (if you like triple cooked potatoes), but calling them chips doesn’t make sense.

Monkey finger rating

Bun –  3/5 – sweet? Not sweet enough?
Build – 5/5
Burger – 2/5
Taste –  1.5/5
Sides – 3/5 – calling them triple cooked fries is misrepresentation
Value – 1/5 – £14 for the burger, a ludicrous £4.50 if I wanted to add bacon, and £5 if I’d wanted a portion of fries. Daylight robbery, even with kids eating free.

Burger rating – 1.5/5 – everything else everyone else was eating looked like it tasted better. Mind you, mine LOOKED like it should have tasted better. Maybe the whole restaurant is an exercise in form over function? Style over substance? Chimchurri over common sense?

The deets

It’s one of the main restaurants in T5. I’m sure there are others dotted around. If you go, don’t have the burger.

The Salusbury, Salisbury Road, Queens Park

Gastropub tries to do good burger, doesn’t quite manage it.

Burger Source

If you read my appeal to publicans, you’ll know that I don’t generally review pub burgers. I made an exception for the Salusbury as the pub clearly makes a feature of its ‘aged short rib burger,’ so I thought I’d give it a try.

An independent pub under the same ownership for 15 years, the Salusbury boasts the talents of Andrew Fila, former head chef at the Medcalf, Exmouth Market. The aim to deliver the best food, drink and service. The service is excellent, and I can’t talk to the drink… and the food is generally OK.

But how did they fayre with that pub kryptonite, a genuinely good burger?

The order

Just one burger on the menu, the ‘aged short rib’ burger served with chips. I was asked how I’d like it done and opted for medium, which was a good sign. I was eating with family, who ordered fish and chips, amongst other things, which looked excellent.

The meat of it

This burger should have been good. It was clearly good meat; it was cooked perfectly – look at the cross section shot. But a few crucial things went wrong, sadly.

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The meat was underseasoned; so didn’t taste of much. The toppings didn’t add enough to counter it (not even that substantial pickle), and the (very, very) firm eggwashed roll just added too much chewiness. I abandoned half of it immediately.

The burger wasn’t juicy enough; I put this down to too high a lean/fat ratio. It was slightly too tightly compacted too, despite being coarsely ground, which means it was a dense thing to eat your way through.

This sounds incredibly nitpicky, but the end result was a substantial burger that tasted of very little. Not bad… but not good either. And it’s frustrating because the ingredients were clearly top quality.

The chips, however, were crisp, fluffy and delicious with the provided mayonnaise. Which, to be fair, also helped bring the burger together somewhat , packed as it was with salty goodness.

Monkey finger rating

Bun –  1/5
Build – 4/5
Burger – 2/5
Taste –  2/5
Sides – 4/5
Value – 1/5. This thing is not worth £14.50.

Burger rating – 2/5 – A few things for the Salusbury to fix; they clearly have the technical skills but some of the core ingredients – in particular the bun and the beef – need some thought.

The deets

If you’re keen to stop by, the Salusbury is near Queen’s Park tube station in North London; 50-52 Salusbury Road, NW6 6NN. I’d have the fish and chips.