Time Out says
Mon Sep 10 2012
Another week, another burger bar. This time by a chap from Iceland (the country, not the ‘mum’s gone to…’ variety), as restaurateur Tomas ‘Tommi’ Tómasson has added a London outpost to his five-strong chain of Icelandic burger joints.
Word has already spread: on our lunchtime visit, there was a throng of hungry diners crowding into the tight space, all eyeing the small handful of seats. There’s no hostess to assign places, so be prepared to circle, vulture-like, ready to pounce on the next free table. Then send an emissary to queue, order and pay.
When your food is ready, one of the cooks will take a break from the fryers to bring over your grub. The mostly Icelandic staff are a ruggedly handsome bunch – if they weren’t flipping burgers, they’d probably be advertising Fisherman’s Friends.
As with everything here, the vibe is ultra-casual. Dishes are scribbled on pieces of cardboard and pinned above the counter, drinks are kept in an unlocked fridge (pay, then help yourself), and there’s even a workaday coffee dispenser for a free cup of joe. Not forgetting the obligatory exposed brickwork, industrial venting and old movie posters. Oh, and music loud enough to keep any passing fogies at bay.
The menu reflects the consciously back-to-basics vibe, with just a few burgers, sodas and shakes available. Our cheeseburger passed muster: a pink-middled patty of chunky mince, topped, US diner-style, with a molten square of processed cheese and served in a soft bun with red onion and salad. It was fine, but the upgraded bacon version may have had more depth of flavour and texture. The pricier steak burger (made with a higher grade of mince) was noticeably juicier, while fries were properly skinny, crunchy and salty. No milkshakes were available.
It’s early days yet, and this place is showing promise. It’s nice to know that Iceland can export more than Björk, cod and volcanic ash.
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