Big B @ Byron - Cambridge

12 Bridge Street, Cambridge, CB2 1UF

Like reviewing a dodo steak, here's one that you're not going to get to eat any time soon. The Big B was another limited edition burger from the ever-expanding chain Byron which had me salivating at the mouth, but yet again unable to find time to eat.

I did the same with Byron's lamb burger last year, squeezing one in on its last day. And although this time I vowed not to be so tardy, two days before the burger disappeared forever I found myself driving to Cambridge for the sole purpose of trying a Big B. Luckily, objective accomplished.

Burgers have come a long way since Haché won TimeOut's 'best burger restaurant' back in 2005. This year, I've eaten many which are considered the best, but haven't even dented the iceberg of choice on offer. Of those which I've eaten, Byron makes my top 10, while Haché doesn't make the list at all. (Before I'm dismissed by Byron fans out there, come on - top 10 is still damn good in an extremely competitive field).

The Everton of the burger world - hovering around Europe, with stable performances, not really threatening the top four - Byron guarantees good service, offers reasonably sized and reasonably priced burgers, damn tasty courgette fries, and some mighty fine beer from BrewDog, Camden Town, and The Kernel. While the foreign upstarts of Five Guys and Shake Shack might be stealing the headlines, the savvy diner will avoid the hour long wait for this year's most over-hyped meal and find a Byron instead.

As a late-comer to the Big B, I knew what to expect. This isn't big in weight of meat - packing the same meat as the standard burger - but big in filling, with mounds of gooey red Leicester, large pickles, and a dollop of burger sauce. Apparently, this was all sandwiched in a special potato bread bun - I didn't notice the difference.

After being sawn in half and squashed under my fat palm, the burger was manageable by hand and the taste was delicious indeed. The cheese seemed sweeter than cheddar, offsetting the sharp pickles, and carrying a nutty flavour throughout the burger. 

I'm not sure the Big B was completely worth the drive to Cambridge or, given that it's no longer available, this review; however, a trip to Byron is always welcome and the Big B demonstrates that they can keep interest in a world becoming increasingly saturated with burgers.

Shake Shack

Shake Shack, 24 Market Building, Covent Garden Piazza, London WC2

"Alton Towers? It's rubbish. Next!"

- David Brent, The Office (Series 2, Episode 3)

"Shake Shack. From hereon in, it will be known as Shit Shack. Don't bother."

- A friend

Strong words indeed from a fellow dinner, but words that unfortunately should be heeded. I have to confess that I tried neither the shake nor the burger for which Shake Shack is famed. Perhaps then I should go back and start again? No. I don't think so. A queue of 45 minutes - which my own tardiness prevented me from standing in - is not something I could bear now knowing what awaits at the end; although it would suggest that Shake Shack can afford to swing two fingers in my direction. 'You just lost yourself a customer!' shouts Homer across the crowded bar.

Instead, I'll take the shrugged shoulders of the same friend with regards to the burger and another who said "s'alright" when I enquired about the shake. Not promising. As for my meal: a handful of fries that might constitute a crowd at Wigan Athletic FC, but a barren wilderness anywhere else, and a hotdog that was more bread than dog, with an unwelcome abundance of sharp pickle that tainted my next two pints. The lemonade was adequate.

I may have been slightly kinder to the food had the rest of the experience not been quite so awful - and I write that having been spared the lengthy queue! Covent Garden is never going to be the best dining experience on an August evening, but the service at Shake Shack seemed to work hard at making it worse still. I give them ten-out-of-ten for their piss poor attitude. Some staff stood around doing nothing, while others hunted the floor like jackals for anyone who'd dared to remain seated after finishing their food. Seriously?! I've paid to eat here and I'll sit for as long as it takes for me to chew down this swill. Given the hotdog is finger-sized I'll only be 18 seconds, so what's the rush?! 

The final biscuit was taken when I went to collect a napkin. A member of staff actually moved my hand from the dispenser so she could take one for herself. I was speechless, and that doesn't happen often.

Anyway, good luck to them. I'm sure the thronging tourist crowds will cover the (presumably) astronomic rent in Covent Garden, but my pennies will not be assisting with their overheads any time soon.