BRGR.Co. A strange, vowel-less beast that’s popped up on Wardour Street, part of the renaissance of Soho restaurants and the new breed of burger purveyors who’ve set up shop to make the most of London’s burning desire for re-imagined American junk-food. BRGR is actually part of a rather well-established restaurant group, with two existing burger restaurants in Beirut, of all places. From what can be gleaned from the press release, BRGR.Co – part of the Par Contre group – works as a franchise, the owners giving investors the opportunity to buy into the concept and run their own BRGR.Co.
The new premises are at 87 Wardour Street, and present a stripped-back American diner aesthetic. There is a central open kitchen where chefs toil away at the burger grill, creating much sweat and smoke (a little too much smoke on the night of our visit – the smoke alarm gets going and doesn’t stop for five minutes). The staff are extremely charming, but a little lost, it would seem, new to the world of service, but trying to work it all out. There are missed opportunities for professionalism, but slight problems are handled intelligently.
My guest chooses the ‘Blogger’ burger – a monster of a patty, cooked medium rare as requested and coated in mounds of Provolone and smoked bacon. He’s off the booze and is desperately searching for sensual, gustatory engagement so finds himself lost in the drama of this mammoth burger, which seems to please him enormously. My burger is smaller and more refined; I’ve avoided the hulking mass of the ‘Blogger’ and chosen the 8oz ‘Masterpiece’ burger topped with aged gruyere and bacon. The beef used for these burgers is sourced from herds on the Buccleuch Estate in Scotland and aged for a minimum of 28 days. The flavour is good; they’re simple burgers: ground beef, a little salt, black pepper, no other adornment. Gruyere makes a high toned accompaniment. Chips are a tad flaccid, but tasty and smothered in an appealing cheese sauce. I’m also off the booze, so end up with a revolting can of root beer which tastes of toothpaste, but that’s entirely my own fault.
The restaurant is packed and people seem to be enjoying themselves immensely, plus a small queue has formed outside, which bodes very well for this Beirut institution and new kid on the Soho block.
