Grillshack

Grillshack has thankfully replaced the execrable Alphabet Bar on Beak Street, and early signs are positive. First impressions are a slightly baffling array of innovation; no reservations standard but you can sign up for a text when your table is ready. But once you’re in, the options for ordering are overwhelming. Do you download their app and go through that? Or perhaps at the DIY till points? Or yes, there is a counter. Which most people seem to do.

The menu is edited fairly tightly – the burger with add-ons (my newly gluten-free other half is appeased here, but at a 75p surcharge absent from the admittedly higher priced Honest Burgers), a steak, some chicken. Basic yes, and not ground-breaking so far. Although crowd pleasers equate to  crowds and this has certainly been the case on both visits of mine.

Grillshack’s £5-ish burger is my nap here: a juicy, decent sized patty, just pink enough for the purists among us, pretty damn tasty. Bun replete with a light bead of sweat, and bacon proper. 

The steak with shoestring fries is value for the meat alone; a rib-eye supposedly but pulverised into the sort of escalope you might expect in a steak sandwich. No complaints at a £10 price point. Their regular fries have a fantastic seasoning which eclipses the rather lacklustre shoestrings too, which need a touch of sexing up, April Bloomfield style.

But food isn’t the main draw here. It’s serviceable, nay, quite good, but the ease and charm of Grillshack won this pig over. At such great value it’s definitely positioning itself as a Flat Iron, Five Guys and Shake Shack contender, and leaving the higher end of those markets well alone. The key will be repeat business, bolstered by service levels. Which are fantastic by the way; truly attentive and friendly.

Richard Caring’s stewardship of Le Caprice, Soho House Group and others over the years has proven that punters return hungrily again and again for 7/10 food when you give them 9/10 service. As long as it’s decent, great people add the magic finishing touch to make the occasion. Grillshack is a fast food version of that clever approach.

Yes I’m a predictable cynic and Grillshack is an achingly portable concept, probably conceived as such, but so what? Better more of this than some of the rubbish out there now, and nobody would object to W1 service levels radiating outwards, with the food people actually want to eat.

MEATmission

MEATmission is more of the same. Whether that is a good or bad thing depends completely on whether or not you like its older siblings. Personally, I’m a huge fan of the food, booze and vibe so It was never going to be a hard sell for me.

Differences here are that they take reservations before 7pm, the space is more condensed and some food tweaks. Notably, the monkey fingers – a huge serving of buffalo coated and fried chicken pieces. I could eat these every day.

In fact my current buffalo obsession led me onwards to try the buffalo chicken burger which was long overdue after a spate of dead hippies. It’s pretty much a big monkey finger in a bun. The chicken ‘burger’ is absolutely vast – you could quite easily halve it and fill two buns. It’s an unwieldy, greasy mess, and all the better for it.

A reviving glass jug of Brooklyn was punchy at £11 for two pints, but hoarded and guzzled all the same. My companions Piglet and @scouserachel preferred the sanguine hues of their ‘Time Of The Month’ cocktails. 

Service is friendly and extremely competent for this cacophonous, well-lubricated environment. The space is an old Christian mission, hence the name, and the stained glass effect mural is a nod to this. Sort of. If Satanists had worship space, perhaps. Frankly, an old church might be the only way to top this latest venue in terms of gothic drama.

The burgers are high-end slop, the crowd is young and loud, and you have that occasional reward of no-reservations; they thoroughly approve of people lingering to get drunk. It's a go hard or go home sort of place and you’ll already know if you’ll like it or not. I do profusely, and Monkey Fingers are worth crossing town for, but MEATliquor pips it, primarily for being more spacious and a lot more fun. 

Food – 8/10

Drink – 9/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 7/10 
Tap water tales – 8/10

Staff Hotness – 8/10

Lucky Fried Chicken at The Grafton Arms

Lucky Fried Chicken is a pop up above a pub in Kentish Town. It is so on trend and encapsulates everything current in London food that it is almost a caricature of itself. Rumours were that it might be around for a while, but it now seems as if it’ll only last a few weeks (at The Grafton Arms at least).

Perhaps the margins in half-decently sourced chicken are tight compared to burgers, which seem to be coming. Mixing pubby furniture with a few booths, and surrounded by beautiful tiling which could have been pilfered from the Northern line station up the road, it’s a lovely space. There is draft beer upstairs (take note Disco Bistro!) and plenty of space.

The board is a pastiche of a generic chicken shop menu, but the cheekiest touch is the familiar face on the chicken buckets, which I imagine itself won’t survive too long before the letters arrive. Nonetheless I think the Colonel would be proud. The chicken is well seasoned (there is no discernible single flavour, it is just ‘seasoning’) and absolutely piping hot. Freshness is great, but we couldn’t eat for about 5 minutes and even then had to use cutlery. However it was juicy grub, with even boneless pieces very moist.

And grub this is. There is no semblance of provenance (being communicated clearly at least) here – no-one is telling you about the farm or the ingredients or the culinary process.  And the crowd didn’t seem to care. It’s unadulterated junk with no loftiness, emulating fast food outlets in a way that no burger places have quite dared to do without a huge improvement in product. 

Our table was debilitated – the chicken burger was a soggy, delicious mess not unlike many I've had at 3am, but the mash and gravy a nice homage to KFC across the pond as more canon accompaniments. The much-lauded cherry pie was overcooked, with a rock-solid base.

Fantastic fun but I doubt I’d return. If you took Kentish Town’s Chicken Cottage, kicked out everyone brown, served Camden lager, doubled the prices and played some 80s tunes, the food wouldn’t be a huge step change upwards. Nicer tiles though. And marginally fewer nutters. You get the gist... go if this sounds all appealing, but don’t expect to feel any more sprightly or wholesome afterwards. 

Food – 7/10 
Drink – 8/10 
Service - 7/10 
Value – 7/10 
Tap water tales – 3/10 
Staff Hotness – 7/10

 

Disco Bistro

One of London’s previously unloved and underused gems (and greatest assets) are the dining rooms on the first floor of many pubs. Central London in particular is replete with these, and successes such as Flat Iron, The Young Turks and many more have originated from humble takeovers of such space. It seems win win in this age of crazy rents and start-up costs.

And while Sam Smith's nabbed all of the show-stopping gin palaces long ago, with the right treatment these dining rooms can be incredibly handsome, resplendent with period features and atmosphere.

Disco Bistro in the deepest alleys of the City is one such venture. The ground floor is The Rising Sun pub, still hawking £5 Peronis to yakky, gakky suited boozers but I imagine the dining room was previously sentenced to a servitude of team fish & chips Fridays and not much of note in between.

Bore that I am, I had to try the famous Disco Burger which is conventional enough, with the exception of a mound of beef short rib. However rest assured that the menu at Disco Bistro ranges far beyond wings and burgers, and includes quite grown-up, sophisticated plates, solid fish options and noteworthy creative execution. Doesn’t sound like me though, so wings and burger it was…

My visit was with a group of fellow bloggers, food nuts and SLR shooters, and feedback was unanimously positive across the various dishes ordered. I hasten to add at this stage that we all paid full price for everything.

This merry band enabled me to try a sticky wing as well as my own portion of spicy (both £7). The sticky wings were strongly flavoured with vinegar, yes there was sweetness beneath but the sharp, pickled taste was dominant. This isn’t a criticism for me personally, sour as I am, but it may not be for everyone. I’d say they’d work better as a bar snack.

I did prefer the spicy wings, which weren’t overly hot but had a decent warmth. Flavour was closer to an almost-Asian chilli route than a cayenne pepper/Buffalo recipe, and especially without obligatory blue cheese and crudité support, these more than stood up on their own.

With popularity comes debate, and wing portion size has become a contentious issue on Twitter of late. Not quite Syria or equal marriage, but a crucial topic all the same. At just under £1 per wing, this is up there with MEATliquor for both value and quality..

The burger was excellent too. Value-wise, less so. At £14, this will no doubt send many people running for either the hills or The Hawksmoor (about a 10 min walk, near a Goodman too) but bear with me. The short rib adds a depth of flavour and juice which I don’t think pulled pork experiments have accomplished as well. The patty itself was perfectly cooked to medium rare without any mention prior (plus point) and the practically liquefied cheese oozed everywhere. 

One gripe was the barbecue sauce – not only did it make a mess and derail the architectural integrity of the burger (yes I did just write that) but even worse, it simply wasn’t necessary. The quality of the contents sang through more than confidently without it. Fries were fine, but not remarkable.

On to dessert, and another universal trend of late, the doughnuts. I was a little slow to understand this, much as the whole Krispy Kreme craze baffled me too. They weren’t a step change from supermarket ones at all. And I’m a bit new to the savoury and even meat flavoured versions which Electric Diner among others are now slinging. The oxtail one at Two Nights Only I didn’t enjoy particularly.

Luckily Disco Bistro's hark back to basics in theory, but with contemporary execution. These are gingerbread doughnut balls with a pot of lemon curd for dunking. Fantastic – with the lemon providing freshness and a sharpness to diminish the risk of overt doughiness, and the gingerbread providing a homely warmth to compliment the horrible winter outside. 

Service was friendly and accomplished; our group of 14-odd ‘foodies’ wouldn’t seem the easiest punters on paper, but it all seemed a breeze. One mini gripe was the beer situation. Better bottles please, or deliver pints to upstairs. The service charge should cover that. And another slight disappointment was the vibe itself; perfectly buzzy sure, but not disco enough! I wanted more fun and better music, they could definitely go further with the disco house and the volume. Not thinking Car Wash and wigs here…

I’m not quite sure what the long term plans for Disco Bistro are, as the pub dining room takeover seems to be a springboard rather than a permanent home, so I would implore people to go as soon as they can.

Food – 9/10 

Drink – 6/10 

Service - 8/10 

Value – 7/10 

Tap water tales – 7/10 (jugs provided, not topped up)

Staff Hotness – 8/10 (friendly, pretty waitresses, clued up on the menu)

Wishbone

Wishbone is a tiny hole in the wall place in Brixton’s Market Row, selling fried chicken. Whether it is glib, lazy or at worst offensive to reference the inevitable popularity of chicken in Brixton, (or pointedly naïve not to mention it), it’s not inaccurate as Wishbone was absolutely packed when I visited.

This is no Chicken Cottage situation however; all birds are free range and dishes include wings and deboned thighs with various seasonings and treatments such as Buffalo, Korean and barbecue, served with dipping sauces. The Buffalo wings were pretty damn spicy and very meaty.

Special mention for the side dishes, especially the deep fried mac’ n’ cheese. These are pockets of the hash brown variety, hot and crisp, filled with macaroni cheese. Absolutely delicious, I’d say that ironically these contain no chicken and yet could become the signature dish of Wishbone. You get 4 for about £4.50.

You might infer from the (very reasonable) pricing that this isn’t a place to linger, but a long list of sours and strong beer selection means there is plenty to stay for and we felt no pressure to hurry at all. The staff were lovely and chatty, tunes were old school hip hop and service was quick.

My one red flag was the Hot Mess, which was a jumbled dish of broken hash browns coated with cheese and tomato sauce, jalapenos and pickles. It sounds like the ultimate in dirty filthy junk dude whatever food, but when faced with it, the grease quotient is just a little too much and makes the dish quite unappealing.

When we visited (a Saturday around 2pm), the quarter and half chicken portions were unfortunately sold out, so the selection was between wings, boneless thighs and the chicken wrap. Hopefully this was an isolated issue, but if not I’d say that now they’re bedded down, they may want to expand the menu a little. 

Still, it’s a buzzy, fun place and I’d definitely return. A fried chicken and waffle brunch dish wouldn't go amiss...I'm not aware of anyone in London doing it at the moment. This I ate at the Nob Hill Grille in San Francisco last month, and it was quite fantastic:

Chicken Shop / Dirty Burger

The Soho House Group have been busy bees this past few years, both with their clubs/hotels and also in food-led offerings, principally through Pizza East. The lucky denizens of Kentish Town were probably rather surprised not only to be receiving the third Pizza East, but also to be the blessed guinea pigs for two new ideas, premiering at the location. These are Chicken Shop and Dirty Burger.

Despite the fuss, and the potential for commercialism backlash, I have to say, they are both bloody good. Chicken Shop is focused on rotisserie rather than fried chicken, and does it extremely well. No bookings and a very dark space welcome those who descend the stairs. Service is attentive and positively brisk in a welcome way (we were ravenous) and so the rotisserie chicken sure enough appears instantly.

A nostalgic highlight among the sides are the crinkle cut chips (although these are bettered at Dirty Burger) but the chicken really is the star. It’s served in pieces unlike that impaled, under-seasoned bird at Tramshed – and is seasoned and charred in spots to give it a true grilled taste. Supermarket spit chicken this is not, but at £14.50 for a whole one, it’s a bargain.

My one gripe about Chicken Shop is quite specific – the house prosecco is £37 a bottle which is too steep for this venue. Other booze is well priced in comparison, so stick to that. So beyond that trifling lesson learned, it’s a great new concept and I’ll no doubt darken their stairwell for such a simple, satisfying feed.

Another star mention goes to the apple pie - homemade and apportioned to your table. The waitress let us have the biggest slice, easily good for two to share, and it was phenomenal even if my pic suggests otherwise:

Dirty Burger is round the back, in the car park. I’m impressed with the creative kit-out and branding of what is basically a burger van cocooned by corrugated iron. I’m sharply told that burgers come medium well, when I protested the lady very pleasantly explained that they would be so juicy, it didn’t matter. And whilst she was right, I’d still rather have had it a touch pinker. 

 

It is a great burger for the price point (sub £6), and I understand the assembly line uniformity keeps the prices simple and the slinging quick, but if Shake Shack and others of the ilk they’re aspiring to can cook to order within certain constraints, they should be able to equally. Another angle here is the confidence in meat quality and how that’s reflected in a venue’s willingness to go rare.

But that aside, for a quick burger experience I rate it highly. It was juicy and tender to the point where it probably could have been mawed.

Special mention, above and beyond the crinkle cut fries (which beyond the novelty shape aren’t amazing fries), are the onion fries. These are short strips of onion, battered and fried to create chips, with incredible flavour. Debatably the most memorable thing here. I could have happily devoured another serving while finishing up my pints of Camden Pale, but the queue was too long to hop up again.

Selfishly, I’m hoping for a similar theme park of comfort food to open closer to my house. These guys genuinely do have some great businesses here and I bet we’ll be seeing a lot more of them. 

Food – 9/10

Drink – 8/10

Service - 8/10 (quick and keen)

Value – 9/10 (excellent, if you skip the prosecco)

Tap water tales – 9/10 (tap offered in Chicken Shop immediately)

Staff Hotness – 8/10 (well selected, with something for everyone to enjoy)