Ode to Byron

From the outside, Byron looks, by all accounts, like somewhere or something I ought to hate. Painstakingly shabbified, it looks like it would be much more at home in Shoreditch than Angel, and cuts a slightly incongruous figure amidst the chains, boutique shops and cosmopolitan eateries of Angel's Upper Street. It also wasn't immediately obvious to me what it was... a new contemporary art gallery, perhaps? An opium den? Somewhere where all the cool cats congregate, dressed in, God I dunno, pyjamas and bowler hats? (I'm so not down with the kids....)

But no! Byron is, in fact, a restaurant dedicated to the art of hamburgery. It is also a chain, with ten restaurants around London, each with its own distinct flavour and decor. And I'm glad I overcame my initial prejudice because beneath the unvarnished, untreated veneer of pretentiousness is actually a bloody good restaurant, with lovely, friendly staff and possibly one of the best burgers in town.

My personal favourite (although, admittedly, it's the only one I've tried) is the Blue Cheese burger; the only word I can think of to describe it is: FIT. This, plus fries, plus Oreo milkshake (oh yes) = perfection. All the burgers at Byron are cooked medium unless specified otherwise. They come pink in the middle but not bleeding, juicy, and enveloped in a soft, white bun; a warning though, if you attack it with as much gusto as I usually do you may end up with an unattractive flour beard. Not a good look. I don't particularly care for the odd and rather sad looking gherkin garnish, but that's inconsequential. Best thing of all, it's possible to eat here for under a tenner. I've yet to try the desserts, but only because everytime I've been in I've been too full/satiated, but I bet they're delicious. Byron, I salute you!

mmmm

shabby chic