burgerlove

i’m battling the internal red tape monster at work, or rather, my boss is battling the internal red tape, to get me to new york for 3 months. Can’t-hardly-wait. Here i come baby, my shake shack burger baby. I hope they put me up near union square so that i’m close to the shake shack (and also this really terrific shoe shop). I know it’s insane – my level of endearment to the shake shack burger knows no bounds. It’s love i tell you. True love.

 

I will write about the shake shack burger when i’m finally in new york. I will – nothing will stop me. You’ll beg me to stop my burger love soliloquies. But i bring good news, i’ve found a burger in London that finally makes me smile. It makes me smile in the way only being in love does. I felt like i was cheating on the shake shack burger the first time i bit into this London hunk and fell again in love, but alas, i figure it’s not cheating when it’s in a different time zone. Postcode fidelity. I kid. I would cause grievous bodily harm (or worse) to any bloke that ever dares to cheats on me anywhere he is on the globe. Put my black belt in taekwondo to some good use. I kid too. I don’t know what i’d do. Eat more pasta and cry i think. And then cause some real harm – not the physical kind. It’ll be worse.

 

My London hunk was found at the Luxe – or to be precise, the takeout stand of the Luxe in Spitalfields. The nice man in the stand toasted my bun because i asked him to, and cooked the burger to juicy medium rare perfection. I didn’t want anything green with it. I think lettuce and tomatoes detract from the taste of a perfect burger - the meat juice, the melty cheese, the oozy mayo. Anyway, who are you trying to kid with your attempt to squeeze in your 5-a-day in a mouthful of cardiac unhealth. It is what it is. Eat salad later.

 

This burger makes me smile precisely because he does what he is best – be a cheeseburger. He doesn’t try to be more than he is. He’s secure in what he is. There are no pretentions, no extra poshness. No confusion. No drama. No grey areas. Just solid beefburger, quality bread (none of that bread factory kingsmill nonsense), a swipe of proper mayo, melty cheddar. His brethren includes what was called “the works” burger, but that wasn’t quite as good. It was trying too hard. Much too hard. I thought about why i didn't quite like that burger at Bar Boulud too - it sounded so right on paper, but i guess, it too was just trying too hard. Don't try baby - just be yourself.

 

I’ll be back soon my lovely hunk. I love you.

the luxe

109 commercial street, London e1 6bg

http://www.theluxe.co.uk/