A burger to make Satan sweat – here's why Tom Parker Bowles gives it four stars
Three days away from the hubbub of the election in New York, and three very fine cheeseburgers, which I managed to slip in between meals. OK, two were at JG Melon, the Upper East Side institution about which I’ve eulogised endlessly: ground sirloin and chuck formed into a patty the size of a child’s fist, cooked rare on a searing flat-top then served in a toasted bun with red onion, pickles and American cheese. Simple, but sensational.
The third was at Hamburger America, a newish luncheonette in SoHo opened by hamburger historian George Motz. With an 11-stool counter wrapped around the open kitchen, it’s his love letter to one of America’s great immigrant success stories – the humble German ‘Hamburg’ steak that crossed the Atlantic, wedged itself in a bun and became a global megastar.
Burgers by The Beefy Boys in Cheltenham get Tom’s juices flowing
Motz, cheery and hirsute, mans the grills, smashing patties of double-ground chuck on the flat-top with his self-designed ‘smash-ula’ before topping them with American cheese then cramming them into toasted buns with mustard, dill pickle and diced onion. They’re charred and gloriously greasy, with crisp edges and a well-seasoned, deeply savoury allure. There’s also an ‘Oklahoma-style’ fried onion burger, but that’s for next time. Anyway, Hamburger America immediately joins JG Melon and Corner Bistro in my triumvirate of New York burger brilliance.
Back, though, to Britain, and The Beefy Boys in Cheltenham, where the burgers are up there with New York. They started as street-food vendors and now have three West Country sites. Patties of locally sourced chuck and brisket are minced fresh daily.
Like Motz, these boys know a proper burger starts and ends with the quality of the meat. Here it’s impeccable. Burgers are ‘thick’, ‘smashed’, ‘Oklahoma’ or ‘Cali’ style, topped with anything from pastrami and peanut butter to a ghost chilli pepper sauce that would make Satan sweat. But I’m a purist, meaning a classic OG Boy, with two kinds of cheese, as well as onion and gherkin. Splendidly beefy and lusciously messy, it’s a five-napkin beauty, the juice cascading down my arms. For a more immersive experience try the Chilli Cheese Boy, which sits in a puddle of deeply decent chilli, topped with nacho cheese sauce. Bliss. But forget napkins. After this, you’ll need a bath.
About £20 per head; The Beefy Boys, 70 Regent Street, Cheltenham; thebeefyboys.com
