More food critic Tim Burke relishes burger chain Byron's arrival in the city's Highcross restaurant quarter.
A short while back, London was surfing the wave of a burger craze. Huge queues formed outside the latest American chains to open and, for a while, it seemed getting a table at #meateasy, the New Cross home of hip streetfood outlet MeatLiquor, was harder than getting into The Ivy.
Industry reports say the phenomenon has now peaked in London and the Hoxton-types have moved on. The ripples from the burger tsunami have, though, finally beached at this end of the Midland Mainline in the shape of Byron, somewhat notoriously the burger of choice for the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Sited under the gleaming cladding of the Showcase cinema, Byron is right at the centre of the Highcross restaurant quarter. The décor is a blend of urban and vintage; exposed pipework and mismatched chairs paired with flowery wallpaper.
The menu is reassuringly brief – nine burgers, including one veggie, one chicken and one changing special, plus a couple of salads. You could start with olives or nachos, but we headed straight for the main event and one bite was enough to see what all the fuss is about. Firm 6oz burgers, cooked to medium, delicious char-grilling, and buns that are substantial enough to hold together but don't overwhelm their contents.
My Byron burger had cheddar, iceberg lettuce, tomato, red onion and their house sauce – and it had the look, feel and taste of a classic well done. My pal, Rob, had the Shady, with a pickle relish, ketchup and "crispy cheese" that had been melted, cooled and broken up. So good, he said, that it had him reminiscing about the childhood joy of your first really good burger.
French fries were good, the courgette fries very good indeed – still juicy having been effectively steamed inside the merest lick of crispy batter. The onion rings were possibly a tad greasy but comforting, nonetheless.
If posh burgers has been a trend in the past two years, craft beer has matched it every step of the way and Byron pushes the association with a selection of contemporary styles. We were mightily impressed with the hoppy, full-bodied pale ales from Founder's and Beavertown, although the Byron-branded version didn't really measure up.
There's also a small selection of desserts – cheesecake and sundaes, basically – and if, like me, you find it hard to resist the idea of a knickerbocker glory, you'll be happy with Byron's efforts. Ice-cream, whipped cream, strawberries, almonds, a tall glass and a cherry on top; you know the score.
Byron gets the big things right – good meat, well-cooked, swiftly presented – and the little touches, such as frosted glasses for the beer and an excellent spear of mildly-pickled gherkin with your burger, help too. Staff were knowledgeable and bright as a button, if maybe a little too keen at times to swipe items as soon as we finished.
There are 36 branches of Byron in London, but Leicester's is one of the first 10 established outside the capital. Some may baulk at the prices – not least on those craft beers at about £4.50 for a 330ml can – but while you can get perfectly good cheaper burgers around the city, I'm not sure you'll get better.
Verdict: 8/10
