Posh burgers are having a moment in Liverpool right now. Which I realise makes us a little late to the party, but better late than never, especially where food is concerned.
In recent months, having previously been a burger refusenik on lank fast food grounds, I have been swayed by vastly superior versions.
Now Byron has joined the cavalry charge armed with gherkins and a simple trans-Atlantic ethos of “proper hamburgers the way they should be.”
In fact, the chain – almost 30 in the capital and a handful around the rest of the country – arrived with quite a fanfare. It announced its impending arrival with the kind of suspense Ant & Dec would be proud of, erecting huge logo-emblazoned hoardings while the fitting out project was completed.
Now that’s done, doors are open and queues are forming.
First impressions are big and airy, with an interior designer’s vision of understated industrial. Diners wait to be seated by staff all kitted out in quirky Byron tees. Ours had ‘cheese’ across his, while others had been given ‘classic’ and ‘proper’. I felt a twinge of pity for the bloke with ‘pickle’.
Tables are quite tightly packed, but since this is more a bustling eaterie than a dinner-for-cosy-lovers kind of venue, that’s really not a problem.
Alongside requisite burger sauces and condiments, each table comes with a brochure pictorially outlining the Byron principle which is basically “do one thing, do it properly”.
This was creator Tom Byng’s vision, which dates back to 2007 when he returned from a stint in the US. He recognised a lack of anything similar in London, so set about righting that.
Despite expansion, the chain has endeavoured to stay true to its initial premise, and that’s reflected in the Liverpool menu.
If you don’t like burgers of one sort or another, don’t bother. Barring a few salads, that’s all there is. There’s lots of them, though, and they’re happy to be flexible, so it’s fine.
There were three of us, straight from a cinema session, so we ordered a beer (small Peroni, £3.75), fresh lemonade (2.75) and elderflower presse (£2.75), while we decided what to try.
There was no time wasted for me, since – aside from the salads – there really was only one non-meaty choice, the Veggie (£7.75). Matthew and husband considered for longer before settling on a Byron (£9.25) and a Cheese (£7.95). We ordered sides of home made skin-on chips (£3.25) and courgette fries (£3.25) to share.
Mine, a super-size grilled Portobello mushroom, was supposed to come with melted goat’s cheese but I traded for blue cheese instead.
“Do it with minimum fuss” repeated the little brochure. And they do. Our burgers arrived sitting in splendid isolation in the centre of large white plates, accompanied only by a single large gherkin. No fuss or unnecessary frippery, just burger.
Both meat burger eaters requested theirs well done, rather than the medium which is standard, and they came with little flags confirming this.
They were both thick and juicy, very slightly still pinkish inside but definitely no longer medium, and perfectly tender. The bacon on Matthew’s Byron was well cooked to almost crisp, which he liked, and the buns soft without being soggy.
The mushroom, made a welcome alternative to a conventional veggie burger and it worked well with blue cheese. Roasted peppers and some wilted spinach chimed in nicely too.
Skin-on chips were good, but it was the courgette fries which were an unusual hit. Without being unkind to them, courgettes aren’t generally anyone’s favourite veg, but coated in a light crumb and deep fried they were surprisingly hard to stop eating.
Happily, we still had room for dessert: chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and swirls of chocolate sauce (£4.95) and the caramel and honeycomb sundae with vanilla ice cream and Crunchie bits (£4.95) for me and Matthew to share.
We just wanted something gooey and sweet to round things off and the sundae was precisely that: a glass piled with vanilla-speckled ice cream, generously swirled with caramel sauce and hiding chocolatey chunks, like a naughty treasure hunt.
The brownie got an appreciative response as well, although we were so absorbed in searching for Crunchie we barely gave his a second glance.
Byron Burgers has certainly joined the posh burger revolution in Liverpool, on the frontline. There may well be an onslaught coming.
Venue: Byron Burgers, 43 Paradise Street, Liverpool One.
Tel: 0151 707 8231
Website: www.byronhamburgers.com
Service: Friendly and fast
Value: Very good, just watch out for the tempting sides
Disabled access: Yes