Let’s be honest, there’s been a load of blather, bullsh*t and boll*cks written about burgers this year. (And if there isn’t something called the Blather, Bullsh*t and Boll*cks burger, there should be. Dibs.)
It’s all a bit unnecessary given that burgers should be good without the accompanying cacophony of hyperbole. Meat; a smattering of something on top; bread. Easy.
But we’ve fetishized the things. Patty as porn.
Granted, there’s nowt wrong with trying to improve on something, it’s just all got a bit noisy, so it was refreshing to see that Byron landed in Leeds with a relatively quiet bang.
Down to business. If we fancy a burger in Leeds we’d usually head to Belgrave and inhale a Patty Smiths for about 6 quid. To be honest, we probably still will, most of the time. But that doesn’t mean everyone can be ar*ed dragging their backsides up that way, and Byron, we discovered, is a cracking alternative for the Burgerphile who likes to keep things Central. We were invited to give it a go.
Yep, it’s a chain, and for that you’re going to get service from the school of Friendly and Regimented: lots of big smiles, plenty of ‘more drinks guys?’ and a few ‘everything ok?’s. It might seem a bit pretend, but that’s fine, guys. Better than being miserable.
Interior is, de rigueur, industrial chic.
But it’s the food that counts, and other than some only half-decent macaroni cheese, (ordered out of pure greed), count it did.
The Byron tagline is ‘Proper Hamburgers’, and, points awarded for accuracy, that’s what you get.
It’s a concise menu (applause) without anything too daft or Epic on it, and the two burgers we opted to stuff down our throats were the Smoky (9.95) and the Chilli (8.95). Fries are ordered (naturally) as a side (2.95).
There was a potent whiff of char coming from the bustling kitchen and when it landed the meat, seemingly rested, had a healthy layer of pink running through. Both were generously seasoned and tender. The chipotle mayo in the Chilli had a good throaty kick, and the crispy onions in the Smoky added some sweet and salty crunch that worked well with the moist burger. Next time we’ll combine the two.
On the ‘Polite Dab of Lips’ to ‘Can’t See My Face For Cheese and Sauce’ scale, the dial points, welcomingly, towards the former.
Both could be eaten with one hand, leaving the other the important task of transporting alcohol to mouth. In this case the booze was Jaipur, chosen from a good selection of beers. More points awarded for this.
Well played, Byron. Good burger shizz.
Eating The North 