Yard Sale Pizza does it simple. Small shop, great pizza. Not too many options, a few crowd favourites, and that’s pretty much it.
Simple shop means simple choices, so I just went for a Holy Pepperoni. Sporting some pepperoni (DUHHH) and spicy Nduja sausage, it was a delicious pizza pie. Not a religious one mind you, ain’t nothing holy about pepperoni. But a truly great meal. Not that I was expecting anything less seeing how Yard Sale have been expanding across town.
Simple is good. I like simple. Too much choice can be a bad thing. And with pizza as good as this, it amplifies the experience.
Slimy? Oily, messy, greasy… the way pepperoni pizza should be
Satisfying? Holy pepperoni, Batman!
Yard Sale Pizza
54 Blackstock Road, London N4 2DW
A good popup is defined by both the place where it sets up at as to the quality of its food. Such is the case most of the times.
But in the burger world, things are a bit different. For a burger popup is defined by the taste of its patty, ingredients and buns. So even if Camden’s Daughter in Kentish Town isn’t a fantastic pub per se (average beer selection if you ask me), a trip to it is a must solely by the true delight that are Burger and Beyond‘s cheeseburgers.
A simple menu leaves little choice but to go do double, and double is indeed the flavour punch this nasty hamburger packs. Whilst you can get Burger and Beyond burgers’ at other locations, at the brink of Kentish Town it seems to thrive, right by all the hipster coffee bars and expensive surroundings.
Delicious cheese, soft buns and two glorious, jucylicious meat patties make this the best burger I’ve had all year. Considering we are only in May, I say to the other burgers around town: bring it on.
Slimy? Sweet cheezus, this is a filthy burger
Satisfying? It goes well beyond satisfying
Burger and Beyond
Nando’s ain’t the only place you can get a full chicken at. And it’s certainly not the coolest. And it certainly doesn’t have a cow in formaldehyde floating above the dining hall.
At Tramshed, one of HIX’s several restaurants across the capital, you can get your fix of inordinate amounts of chicken, with a presentation that’s as savoury as it is filthy. Kind of what we’re all about here anyways.
Once this perfectly cooked bird arrives to your table, complete with succulent stuffing and a hearthy dose of chips, you’ll never go back to ordering ¼ or ½ chicken ever again. Full chicken is the way to go, regardless of how many people you’re sharing with.
Slimy? Straight from the oven to your table, this thing is shinyyyyyy
Satisfying? Tastes as good as roasted chicken can possibly taste
32 Rivington St, London, EC2A 3LX
Back to Stein’s for a second round (following last year’s schnitzel), I followed the rule of sequels: must be bigger, badder and more expensive. All of which their bavarian sharing platter for two easily fulfills.
Served with enough sausages to build your own sausage train, and an literal mountain of potato mash and sauerkraut (one can never have enough sauerkraut), the Bayrische Schlachtplatte is Bavarian excess at its best. Or worst. Or… WURST.
I’m so sorry about that. I know it’s early in the year and you did not need to read such a terrible pun. Please forgive me. Or at least take my advice, call a hungry friend, meet at Stein’s in Kingston and order this smorgasbord of deliciousness.
Slimy? Just look at it and tell me you don’t instantly feel like taking a shower
Satisfying? It’s so much food and so good, you’ll forgive any puns I have made or will make in perpetuity.
56 High Street, Kingston upon Thames, KT1 1HN
The Fat Nasty. What is it, you may ask? What disgustingly awesome dish could possibly warrant being called something as offensive and harsh as this?
Perhaps it’s best to look straight at the source. Check out Stagolee’s brunch menu entry:
When I see that in a menu, all of a sudden the ‘what to order’ decision has been made for me. You really can’t make stuff like this up. If that sounds gross, well… It’s because it is. And I don’t say that lightly. The chicken is fried to perfection, the gravy (more like bread sauce?) is thick, creamy and dense, and the biscuit on both ends is caloric enough to make you wonder: should this be shared?
Reality check: It shouldn’t be shared. As it’s motherflippin’ delicious. Just check your arteries on your way out fr traces of gravy.
Slimy? The Fat Nasty lives up to its name. And then some.
Satisfying? Incredibly fattening, and incredibly succulent
453 North End Rd, London SW6 1NZ
Never has so little caused as big an impact.
Brisket is, by definition, a gift from the gods, no matter where you have it. But when I ordered my beef brisket from Smokestak at a non-irrelevant £11.5, I was certainly expecting something bigger or, dare I say it, meatier.
But as wise men know, size isn’t everything. Taste is. And boy does this meat taste good. Tender as can be, and full of delicious, meaty flavour, the beef brisket at Smokestak is smart to be such a small plate: it cannot realistically be shared. A good thing, since you will NOT want to share it.
Coupled with some ‘mustard bbq’ sauce (Is it mustard? Is it BBQ sauce? Who cares!), and served in an ever-so-hipsterish tray, the taste will remain in your tastebuds for long. Or at least for the few seconds before you realise you desperately need to order another round.
Slimy? A slice of juicy juicy meat, with juicy juicy sauce. Slime galore.
Satisfying? Why art thou so small, you beautiful brisket thing?!?
35 Sclater St, London E1 6LB
How quickly they grow up… From the humble beginnings of what looked like a hangar by Maltby St Market, I’ve seen Monty’s Deli grow from ‘the little Deli that could’ to a full blown restaurant in Dalston. Not my first of their sandwiches, you see.
But has the move to hipster-London damaged it’s succulent, ridiculously massive meals of ginormous proportions? Not in the least. If anything, these sandwiches have gotten bigger and better.
Case in point, the Meshuggener: a smorgasbord consisting of salt beef, pastrami AND chopped liver. Yes, the three-meat trifecta. With the usual coleslaw and rye bread to boot. Boom. Nothing can prepare you for this tower of a sandwich. Which makes sense, since meshuggener means crazy in the old language of Yiddish.
All in nicer surroundings and blah blah. But who cares really. This is all about being a delicious Deli. And in that, Monty’s Deli is still London’s Deli king.
Slimy? Three meats with some measly rye bread to hold it? Good luck with that.
Satisfying? Like eating 7 meals in one. Try counting the calories of this monster.
227-229 Hoxton St, London N1 5LG
Going to Peckham just for a burger would be considered insane by many. But it all comes down to the burger, doesn’t it? After all, we all know that the best things in life lie north of the Thames (true story) but can a great, delicious and succulent burger exist in a hipster dominated place such as Peckham?
It can. Introducing Slow Richie’s and their sumptuous burgers. I tried The Beef, which in a complete coincidence is beef based, but also comes with some pork belly, cheddar and weird dressing. It’s as filthy as that sounds. Which in our playbook means it’s an incredible achievement in burger making.
The fact that it’s currently based within a brewery is just the cherry on top. Great craft beer + nasty burgers = who’s buyin’?
Slimy? Oh yes so very slimy. But they got kitchen rolls. Lots.
Satisfying? Remarkably so. These burgers deserve a restaurant. Or at least a stall up north.
Brick Brewery. Arch 209, Blenheim Grove, London SE15 4QL
This place, Naked Dough, sells cookie dough. That’s it. How was this not a thing before, I’m not entirely sure. It’s always been clear that cookie dough is the best. From being Ben n Jerry’s best ice cream flavour (I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise) to turning into magnificent cookies, cookie dough is just wonderful.
So along comes Naked Dough, a place that looks like an ice cream shop, feels like an ice cream shop, but has no ice cream. Just different flavours of cookie dough. At first it’s strange since one expects this to be cold. It isn’t. Again, this isn’t ice cream: it’s cookie dough. Then one expects it to go down easy. But how can it possibly go down easy if this is as gooey and sugary as anything you’ll ever have.
Which is not to say this is not delicious. It is. Fantastically so. Just be warned: a taste of this and you’ll understand what thickness means in a dessert. So go ahead: get some dough. Just be sure to share it, you won’t be able to finish a tub (I couldn’t, shame on me…).
Slimy? Uncooked cookie dough. So yeah. Very icky stuff.
Satisfying? It packs a punch, but cookie dough parlours are a thing now. What a glorious time to be alive.
Old Street Underground, London EC1Y 1BE
How can the hype be any higher? There’s enough places that claim to be “the best” in the food world, that it seems ridiculous to seriously claim to be the greatest at any particular dish. I’ve seen at least three shops called The Best Kebab in London, and can guarantee (after… maybe having tried them as well) that they do not offer the best kebabs at all (one could claim kebabs aren’t meant to be good to begin with).
So along comes L’Antica Pizzeria da Michele, which doesn’t really claim to be the best pizza in the world, but it’s fans sure seem to scream so. Famously located in Naples, and apparently made famous by a book (and a sure to be terrible Julia Roberts film) called Eat Pray Love, this offshoot of the original opened in London a few months back, and people won’t stop yammering about it.
After countless times seeing a ginormous queue by it’s door, I decided to give it a go and see how good their pizza could actually be. Hype is one thing, but I’ve had many pizzas, and can claim I know my shit when it comes to cheesy dough. But hype be damned, the Pizza Margherita with Double Mozarella is just wonderful. A huge smorgasbord of springy dough and so much cheese you can tell the Double in Double Mozarella is not a ripoff, this thing was created by Pizza Gods, and as such, it’s worth waiting along the hipsters queuing.
Hype is one thing. Great pizza trumps hype. Such rules govern life.
Slimy? Try to eat with your hands. I double dare you.
Satisfying? A remarkable achievement in pizza making. Believe the hype.
L’Antica Pizzeria da Michele
125 Stoke Newington Church St, London N16 0UH