Haché is derived from the French for ‘to chop’ but the only Gallic twist on the great American burger here is attention to detail. Rather than the now-ubiquitous underpinning with skewers, Haché’s crisp toasted ciabattas are left ajar for us to admire the ingredients.
Our spanish burger was topped with a slice of grilled pepper and a generous disc of goat’s cheese. Squashed down, it made for a mammoth mouthful and held together well. It was also markedly more meaty than everything else we sampled for this guide. The thick-cut chips will divide opinion, though. Yes, they’re crisp but they’re also too reminiscent of 3am-kebab-shop hollow.
Haché is, we’re told, constantly tweaking its burgers. So perhaps the chefs could next turn their attention to their vegetarian patrons. Despite proud claims of fresh vegetables, chickpeas, cumin and coriander, the ‘au naturel veggie burger’ still has more than a hint of shop-bought frozen veggie burgers. Given the quality of everything else here, that’s frustrating.