The Carnivore Project

London's Best Burgers (at The Wheatsheaf)

Esquire has just posted their list of London's top 10 burgers. 

A few of our favorites are on the list - including Joe Allen, Smith's of Smithfield and, best yet, our phenomenally well-endowed (burgerly-speaking) local pub, The Wheatsheaf. (This may be due to some ferocious Twitter-based campaigning - at the very least, thanks to everyone that sent Esquire the links to our reviews - especially the mysterious AdLand Suit.)

The whole list is very good - I've eaten at 9 out of the top 10 (and will definitely go check out Byron's). I think The Eagle has probably dropped out of the top 10 over the past few years - they should go back to offering more burgers and fewer cocktails. I never would've thought about Balans, but I can't really argue with it. And Lucky 7 is a timeless classic of deliciousness.

Well done to everyone that took part - and well done to Esquire for listening to the beef-starved voice of the people.

Grelha D'Ouro

Bathsheba over at the Stockwell News blog gave us a nice shout-out (thanks!) during an interview with the Londonist , which has inspired me to post another Stockwell restaurant review. Today:  the Grelha D'Ouro, on South Lambeth Road.

Hamburgers in London: The Wheatsheaf and Smith's of Smithfield

So here I am, an American living in London.  Occasionally friends or a family member will ask me what it is that I miss most about the US, probably as a way of filling awkward conversational silences, but perhaps in the hopes that I'll say something gloriously clever, or at least funny.  But my answer is always the same:  I miss hamburgers. 

(My fingers insist on typing the word out as "haumburgers" this morning - perhaps this is phonetically symbolic of my ever-increasing Englishization, which manifests itself as an enormously pretentious-sounding Mid-Atlantic accent?*)

So, yes.  Hamburgers.  It's not that they're unavailable in this city, or even that they're not very good.  They are as widely available as in any American city, and many are very tasty.  But they are not perfect. 

Carnivore Heroes: Hung, Drawn and Quartered / Maria's Market Cafe

For the past three weeks, we've been ushering out of town guests around London, showing off the local landmarks (Smiths, St John, The Eagle, Smiths again, The Eagle again, Smiths for a third time and Neal's Yard Dairy). (Also spotted: a museum). 

As you can imagine, a roving pack of transatlantic gluttons can intimidate the service industry, but we've had two examples of carnivore heroism that deserve mention.

Restaurant Review - Maria's Market Cafe, Borough Market

   

On a recent trip to Borough market, the Carnivore and I stopped for breakfast at one of our favorite breakfast places in London - Maria's Market Cafe.  Located smack in the center of the market, Maria's is always worth a trip, both for its location and for its food.

Our intrepid Carnivore, bearing breakfast.

Restaurant Review - Isolabella, Red Lion Street

    Friday the ninth of January was one of those rare, awful, bone-chillingly cold nights here in London.  Jared and I met up after work at the Holborn tube station with the intent of finding someplace convivial to drink off the chill on Lamb’s Conduit Street, but only made it as far as Red Lion Street before we were sidetracked by an inviting-looking Italian restaurant.

Restaurant Review - Isolabella, Red Lion Street

    Friday the ninth of January was one of those rare, awful, bone-chillingly cold nights here in London.  Jared and I met up after work at the Holborn tube station with the intent of finding someplace convivial to drink off the chill on Lamb’s Conduit Street, but only made it as far as Red Lion Street before we were sidetracked by an inviting-looking Italian restaurant.

The Canton Arms, Stockwell

    There were blackouts all over London last night, and the Carnivore and I found ourselves smack in the center of one.  A long, skinny swath of our neighborhood was left without power for several hours, rather inconveniently both after dark and during the dinner hour.  Nothing loath, we bumbled around in the dark for a while in search of candles and a lighter before deciding to ride the storm out in true English style:  at the pub. 

St John [EC1]

Here I am again, the morning after another nose-to-tail debauch, my pie-stuffed belly pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the desk, ready to write glowing prose about St John.

In a week filled with delicious, celebratory, carnivorous meals, St John has still managed to hold the throne as the best meatery in London. Rules... Simpson's... J. Sheekey... Smiths... all delicious, but there's only one St. John. [Actually, there are two, but you get me, right?]

Munich Airport

Frighteningly, this is not the first time I've had this sandwich.