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• Food and Travel
• Issue 1

I like my burgers the same way I like my women: big, beefy and juicy. I'm from the South in the US, and in my state there are three basic forms of blasphemy - driving a car with a muffler, drinking imported beer and trying to turn a real staple food like a hamburger into a posh dish.

Needless to say I was sceptical of Fine Burger Co. and its menu. Plastered near the entrance in a font nearly a foot high is their philosophy of animal welfare and their support of small, locally-owned farms. While I'm not against this philosophy, I came to find protein, to conquer a behemoth of beef. I came to be fed and satisfied.

Daring to be different, since I'm now living in London I thought I'd try one of these posh burgers. I ended up ordering the Hawaiian, a 6-ounce patty topped with pineapple, grilled smoked bacon, mayo, onion, tomato and tangy relish. Dare to be different, huh? Only in Britain.

The first bite was hard enough to wrap my lips around.  Grease ran down my hands and vegetables tumbled out onto my plate.  Don't be alarmed - this is a very good sign of people who know how to make a burger. All connoiseurs know a burger should be stacked as full and high as possible. These dimensions are directly proportional to how good the burger itself tastes.

The timid ones, those who long ago sold their souls for things like minivans, approach a beast like
the Hawaiian with a fork and knife.  The brave tackle it with only their hands, mano a mano.  I was going to give this monster the respect it deserved.

To say the burger made this country cowboy homesick wouldn't be accurate - precisely because I'm not sure if I can find burgers this good back home. No longer will I consider such humanely raised beef and such froo-froo condiments as a bastardisation of a cow's birthright, but as a privilige and a sacrifice I am fortunate to indulge in.

All the ingredients, all the flavour is a delight on par (for a redneck) with a Nascar race and a
tattooed bottle blonde who smells of cigarettes and Budweiser.  It's real and it's honest.

But it didn't stop there. The combo included fresh hand-cut chips, two onion rings and a dipping sauce.  The chips were also the best I've had on this side of the Atlantic, and my sweet and tangy sauce mixed with sour cream was a as lively as any hootenanny.

I rounded out my meal, and my stomach, with a peanut butter and banana milkshake. Let's just say a combo and a shake at Fine Burger Co. keep you preoccupied trying to choose which taste sensation you want next.

All this for only £12, a bargain on all counts except the £3.45 shake.  The service was low-key but swift and friendly - just like any good burger joint back home.

At Fine Burger Co. they take their creations very seriously, as any respectable craftsman would.  The ambiance is minimalist and hip but tonight the restaurant welcomed a mix of diners with only one thing in common - a satisfied grin at the end of the meal.

And that's just fine by me.