At Bukowski the burgers have de rigeur tongue-in-cheek names like Mother F and Fat Gringo, although there have been so many of these since the MEAT franchise arrived on the scene that the nomenclature is beginning to seem as tired as Miley Cyrus’ stage act. In the case of the Fat Gringo, it’s a standard burger with candied bacon, Monterrey Jack cheese and jalapeno mustard alongside tomato, lettuce and red onion. The Chicano pulled pork burger oozes juice, but despite being marinated in orange juice and chilli before cooking for 6 hours it could do with more flavour, and the spicy scotch bonnet – despite being one of the world’s hottest chillis - is imperceptible. On the plus side all the condiments are free and homemade, so we add liberal amounts of horseradish mustard and fiery salsa.
But what Bukowski does excel is at are very moreish side dishes, with the exception of an unmemorable, too-gloopy Waldorf coleslaw. Southern fried chicken livers are coated in spices and breadcrumbs, deep fried and skewered. Cajun crayfish and prawn popcorn is quickly devoured without the need for the accompanying sherry sauce. We also like the tobacco onions, in a bowl heaped with crispy deep fried grated onion, but best of all are the chips triple cooked in dripping - crunchy yet fluffy on the inside, as perfect chips should be.
Given the number of burger and pulled pork joints in town – and Bukowski has another branch at Boxpark - we could easily be non-plussed, however good service (there is only one helping of red wine left, so they give it to us on the house) and careful sourcing of ingredients like rare breed pork tip the scales in their favour.
