Britain’s brilliant burgers
Published 19 August 2025

It feels only right that the Blacklock group's first port of call as it heads into regional orbit should be Manchester, where thoroughbred meat cookery has become a speciality. Housed in the cavernous basement of a former textile mill on Peter Street, the ambience calls up the city's industrial past, but with candle-flames, soft leather seating and smiling staff to give the exposed brickwork and cast-iron pillars a gentler feel.

Followers of the London venues will find a comfortingly familiar ring to the menus, which open with protein snacks such as potted meats with kimchi to prime the appetite. A fully loaded steak sarnie makes a more satisfying lunch than a supermarket sub, as does a whopping double cheeseburger, its onions caramelised in vermouth. Blackboard menus give notice of the cuts of the day, and you can see them being crossed off as they are snapped up. Vintage Blacklock irons grill the chops to blushing pink for skinny cuts of pork rib and lamb T-bone, while the fat-marbled steaks are fully matured for 55 days.

The ‘all in’ sharing deal is a mound of chops, piled on chargrilled flatbreads, but leave room for beef-dripping chips and perhaps a superfood side-order of broccoli and walnut salad. Sauces, charged extra, run the gamut from chilli hollandaise to the richly nutritious house gravy. The undoubted appetite challenge of it all extends to a ‘say-when’ dessert of white chocolate cheesecake, served straight into bowls at the table.

Blacklock is also famed for its nostalgic Sunday lunch. Whole joints are roasted the old-fashioned way and the revelling continues through the day – be warned, bookings are at a premium. If you're in a group, order the ‘all in’ offer of three different meats with sides, veg and limitless gravy. Wines on tap include the big reds that this food will mostly need.

A favourite among some of Birmingham’s top chefs (Aktar Islam from Opheem is a well-known fan), this spot tucked around the back of New Street station’s hulking metallic shell is the place for getting your hands dirty. Black-painted, heavily stickered walls and a heavy metal/rock soundtrack set the tone for some outrageously good buttermilk fried chicken (tenders, thighs, breast, etc) with punchy seasonings. Otherwise, choose a platter of wings or one of the chicken burgers ('hothead', buffalo', 'lizard king') and, if appetite allows, add a side of waffle fries piled with coleslaw, gherkins and their signature ‘comeback sauce’. Service is fun and friendly and, happily, wet wipes are delivered with the bill. Cashless; walk-ins only.

Jackson Boxer is one of the most versatile chef-owners in the capital and with the price of premium seafood squeezing margins at Orasay, he re-jigged the concept in early 2025 and relaunched the place as Dove – a more accessible proposition. The interior has remained largely untouched: muted and stripped-back, with herringbone flooring, off-white walls, squishy orangey banquettes and pendant lighting. Wooden tables with flickering candles are closely packed along the front room, but there’s more generous spacing at the back that benefits from a skylight – perfect on a warm sunny day, although it can get noisy when busy.

Boxer's extensive repertoire comes to the fore in a broadly based menu that ventures beyond seafood. Orasay’s popular crispy potato cake is now deep-fried, topped with raw scallop and finished with a touch of finger lime and chicken salt, while deep-fried Taleggio and Wiltshire truffle lasagne is an utterly moreish prospect. That said, the kitchen hasn't forgotten how to cook fish: four king-sized red Atlantic prawns are simply grilled with smoked garlic and black-lime butter, while steamed hake with caramelised pumpkin, hazelnuts and mint is a beautifully balanced dish. Larger plates might include Tamworth pork loin chop or glazed duck leg with smoked beetroot for those hankering after some animal protein, and there's an 'off-menu' burger too. To finish, Estate Dairy 'Fior di Latte' soft serve, sprinkled with early-harvest olive oil and served with oat cookies provides a pleasant finale. 

The wine list has also been reconfigured and features a global selection of bottles from £35, with almost everything available by the glass. A handful of weekly special pours is offered by the glass, and there are half a dozen options for non-drinkers. Service is friendly, easy-going and well-tuned to the cool, bustling neighbourhood vibe.

‘A must for a family day out,’ this enterprising set-up brings together a farm shop, restaurant, butchery and events space on Penllyn Estate. Not surprisingly, the daytime menu is tailored to all palates and preferences – although everything is dictated by produce from the Estate (much of it organic). Start the day with a full Welsh breakfast or spiced eggs Benedict, linger over coffee and cake, or drop by for a lunchtime fill-up (a home-smoked chicken club sandwich, Nepalese lamb with Asian slaw or beer-battered haddock). There are grills on Friday and Saturday evening, while Sunday is a showcase for juicy roast joints and the freshest home-grown vegetables. Pizzas and burgers ‘to go’, too.

The beefy Hawksmoor steakhouse group picked a peach of a site when they were looking for an Edinburgh outpost – namely, the old National Bank of Scotland, once the tallest building overlooking St Andrew Square. Its current incarnation pays due reference to the past with limestone surfaces, a lofty coffered ceiling, imperious columns, parquet floors, etched windows and reclaimed materials, although nothing can detract from the venue's gastronomic USP.

Visitors come here in their droves for joyously flavoursome cuts of dry-aged native beef sourced from both sides of the border, priced per 100g, chargrilled to order, and served with the now-familiar Hawksmoor sauces and sides – although the bone-marrow skirlie is unique to this branch. Regional ingredients crop up regularly on the menu, from Eyemouth crab on toast or grilled native lobsters with garlic butter to occasional supplies of heather-nourished Hebridean lamb. The sourdough bread is from Edinburgh, and so is the butter, while the famed Ambassador chocolate bar and a wicked sticky toffee sundae top the list of indulgent desserts.

A daytime ‘express’ menu pulls in punters on tighter budgets, while on Sundays a whole rump of 35-day, dry-aged beef is slow-cooked over charcoal then finished in the oven – ‘the quality of the meat is unrivalled,’ notes one fan. Otherwise, the drinks list is everything you would expect from Hawksmoor: craft beers and nifty cocktails plus big-ticket red wines bold enough to match all that fleshy sanguineous protein.

It's located under the railway arches near Hackney Central rather than an old church, but this ‘brewery pub’ makes a sporting effort to create the spirit of community among its large congregation of supporters. Nave-like beams arch above your head, seating is on refectory benches and, at one end of the room, the service counter could almost be mistaken for a high altar. The name Lagom is a Swedish word suggesting ‘just the right amount’ or ‘that'll do nicely’.

Up-close open-flame cooking is the mood of the moment, and is executed here with impressive panache, whether for whole chickens, pork T-bones with apple mustard, lamb loin chops in green sauce or even seasonal vegetables. Expect grilled asparagus in lemon emulsion with charcoal oil in the late spring, beetroot carpaccio in molasses or leeks in romesco with smoked hazelnuts come winter. Chef-patron Elliot Cunningham has become the toast of east London for his smash burger, a consummate triumph in which the elements of meat, mustard mayo, vinegar slaw and American cheese work together in perfect harmony. Lagom indeed.

Sunday roasts also receive enthusiastic support, not least the 'hangover bowl' – a plentiful cornucopia comprising offcuts of fired-up beef, chicken and pork, piled high on a bowl of roast potatoes and veg, before being topped with a Yorkshire pudding and ample brisket gravy (all for £12). Apparently, it's even better if you're not actually hungover. Whatever your order, try to leave space for a portion of the crispy potatoes with garlic mayo. Under the adjacent arch is the brewery itself, which turns out IPAs, lagers and pilsners to beat the band. Other drinks are available.

'Special without being pretentious' is one verdict on this admirable farm-to-fork operation, which the citizens of Great Malvern have taken to their hearts since it opened in 2024. With windows overlooking the greenery of Malvern Priory’s graveyard, and a spacious modern interior incorporating a bar/dining counter as well as an open kitchen, it’s a good-looking, lively spot regularly filled with a hubbub of locals.

The prime attraction is prime meat, reared and butchered on the Madresfield Estate just two miles away. A popular choice is the daily changing ‘butcher’s board’ for two, which might comprise beef short-rib tacos, lamb koftas, rack of lamb and a Barnsley chop, served with little pots of sauces (gravy, chimichurri, peppercorn). To kick things off, try the glazed short-rib – a modest, highly savoury portion of pulled beef served with a blob of spinach and watercress sauce and a smear of sweet rhubarb jam. 

Our latest visit continued with barbecued lamb rump – succulent medium-rare slices matched with a large braised carrot, timidly flavoured courgette and wild garlic purée, plus pleasingly viscous gravy. Less gratifying was a very large side dish of butter beans, made overwhelmingly sweet with truffle honey. Still, a dessert of almond cake and thick crème diplomat surrounded by strawberry coulis with crunchy blanched almonds provided a comforting finale. 

The restaurant's offer also includes a fairly priced set lunch and pre-theatre menu, while the wine list features a batch of desirable vintages as well as a selection of everyday drinking. Service from the young team is vivacious and charming – all that's needed is a little fine-tuning to the dishes supporting the first-rate meat.

Run by former Alimentum chef Leo Riethoff and his wife Charley, Steak & Honour opened back in 2012 but really took off in the pandemic as a takeaway. The American-style burgers are magnificent and can be sourced at the bricks-and-mortar base on Wheeler Street, at The Tivoli pub, or from one of their two vans that pop up in and around Cambridge.

With forested hills sloping onto fields of grazing sheep and the Gothic remains of Byland Abbey towering over the entrance, this pub with rooms is a dream ticket – no wonder it was snapped up by chef Tommy Banks (the Black Swan at Oldstead is nearby). Inside, there’s a little bar with a snug for those wanting a drink, but the main action takes place in the three dining rooms, one of which is the former piggery – an expansive room with beams, giant flagstones and a double-facing log-burning stove, all illuminated by a conservatory-style skylight. The mood is relaxed and staff stay on top of their tasks, while cute details in the handsome finishes speak of Tommy Banks’ pedigree.

The food also makes a connection to the Banks family farm (without labouring the point), and chef Charlie Smith serves up a procession of seriously appealing, modern pub-style dishes – an incredibly original Dexter steak tartare, perhaps, cut into uniform nuggets resembling translucent rubies decorated with grated wild horseradish, fermented peppers and smoked bone marrow. Elsewhere, there might be a light, elegant plate of smoked Pablo beetroot with ewe’s curd, preserved Yorkshire rhubarb and linseed crackers for texture. Some of the meaty main courses such as a pork rib chop with fermented mushroom béarnaise could do with a little finessing, although fish dishes hit the spot – judging by a pitch-perfect serving of cod with a splendid mussel cream sauce and purple-red potatoes on the side.

Everything is executed with flair, professionalism and a deep respect for local ingredients – and that extends to the dazzling roasts served for Sunday lunch (check out the rare-breed Berkshire pork and Herdwick lamb from the family farm, just two miles away). If you're looking for real value, however, order the mighty Dexter cheeseburger with fries, plus a pint of Yorkshire-brewed ale and a shared dessert – say a soft-serve sundae topped with Douglas fir, blackcurrant and white chocolate. Aside from real ale, drinks include seasonal cocktails, homemade libations and a short but decent selection of wines with plenty by the glass.

Opened without fanfare or PR bluster towards the back end of 2023, this slick New York Italian is the brainchild of former Soho House COO Martin Kuczmarski, a man who knows a thing or two about running restaurants. From the off, it looks absolutely fabulous, with swathes of Art Deco-inspired wood panelling, proper tablecloths and proper candlelight lending a radiant glow to proceedings. A vinyl soundtrack of 70s disco and soul keeps the good times rolling, although it never intrudes or ruins conversations across the table.

The menu is stuffed with the kind of comfort food that people just love to eat – from lobster rolls, mini hot dogs and bowls of Tuscan minestrone to textbook chopped salad and a raft of pasta classics (spaghetti with meatballs, hot penne arrabbiata etc). Burgers and ribeye steaks are present and correct too, as is ‘The Dover’ sole (suitably finessed with chilli, lime and samphire), while the beef arrosto with mash is up there with the dishes you’d find at the best trattorias in Florence. As expected, desserts hop from New York (baked cheesecake brûlée) to Italy (vanilla panna cotta with summer berries) – and if you fancy a Baileys Shakerato or an Italicus Sgroppino dessert cocktail, they’ll mix that too.

Pre-prandial sips at the bar are a must, and the wine list kicks off at around £40 a bottle, which is reasonable for this part of town. There's also no need to book if you fancy a drink and a snack at the bar out front. In short, this Mayfair hot spot offers some of the best hospitality in London right now, with a side order of irresistible food, in one of the capital’s most alluring dining rooms.

The sign outside this whitewashed 17th-century inn – and its logo – reference the local custom of curling on the frozen waters of nearby Loch Kilconquhar, although most attention focuses on the output of the pub's kitchen these days. This part of Fife feels fairly remote, but chef/co-owner James Ferguson is plugged into local supply lines – not least from the Balcaskie Estate, which oversees 2,000 acres of mainly coastal farmland hereabouts.

Menus change daily, depending on what produce arrives at the kitchen door, so expect anything from refined seafood dishes such as steamed razor clams in oloroso to a starter of Shetland lamb offal, fired with pickled chilli and served with yoghurt flatbread. Line-caught mackerel might take its place among mains, grilled and served with horseradish-infused baby beetroot, while russet Tamworths provide the pork chops that are cooked with fennel, onions and sage.

When it comes to finishers, homemade ice creams with oaty shortbread are hard to beat, or look further afield for a sorbet of Amalfi lemons soused in Polish vodka. Drinks include craft beers and cider, plus a short but enterprising wine selection.

There are tables outside for the balmy seasons, and an air of simple rusticity within (complete with candlelight in the evenings) – thanks to co-owner Alethea Palmer, who runs the place with appreciable cheer and a breadth of welcome that extends to pre-advised dogs in the bar area.

As the name suggests, the Loveable Rogue doesn’t take itself too seriously but offers creative and good-value food in an informal setting or, as chef/co-owner Joe Lazzerini puts it, ‘good times and great scran’. Whether opting for the carte, their single-course 'date night' deal for £10, their self-styled ‘epic’ Sunday roast or just some tasty nibbles with drinks, you can always expect local and seasonal sourcing, the odd culinary twist, and an emphasis on flavour and fun. Delivering quality and creativity across the board is a challenge embraced and delivered from the small open kitchen.

Start with rich roasted onion velouté, hiding crispy diced tongue and a cheeky cheese churro for dipping. A mini coronation chicken pie with date purée and celeriac rémoulade evokes summer picnics, while a soft crab lasagne with shellfish bisque is 'floaty like a loosely made bed'. Perfectly cooked pork fillet from Ayrshire is followed by a blue cheese 'royal' on finely shredded Waldorf salad. Dark chocolate crémeux with confit blackberry and almond rounds off proceedings on a pitch-perfect note.

Lazy Sunday? Then it’s comfort-food nirvana – rare Speyside beef, wonky Yorkies, beef-fat garlic roasties, brisket mac 'n' cheese, honeyed roots, crushed vegetables and lashings of gravy. Service is cheery, the atmosphere is lively, and there's a simple but kindly priced wine list too.

For decades, the Milbrook has defended its reputation as a reliable source of decent pub food in the South Hams but since Caitlin Owens took on ownership in 2021, it has found a new stride. Elegant restoration has amplified the cosy low-ceilinged hostelry into a sophisticated destination, whether you’re staying in the rooms across the road, or rocking up sandy-footed from the beach, ready for a pint of Salcombe Brewery Ocean Cider by the babbling brook at the back.

Beyond good looks, the menu is bolstered by its connection to Fowlescombe – a luxury rural retreat and working regenerative farm – and by Elly Wentworth, who works as executive chef across both sites, balancing prime ingredients with an approachable menu. Brixham crab and fresh corn chowder made for a swoon-worthy opener on our most recent visit, while a Toulouse sausage was packed with flavour and the triple-cooked chips were as good as you’d hope.

Sunday lunches and seasonal desserts such as Fowlescombe farm honey and fig trifle with roasted hazelnuts complete the package, while on dark nights the fireside beckons for a pre- or post-prandial trip through the adventurous wine list, which uses the Coravin system to offer maximum interest by the glass. Service can fluctuate with the seasons but it always supports a convivial hubbub of happy diners.

London’s 'tached and tattooed creatives have called it: the Plimsoll is cool. So eager are they to get into this tiny corner pub in residential Finsbury Park, they’ll squeeze into any unoccupied corner of the bar, jostle for a spot at one of the ledges outside, and book up to a month in advance for a table in the scruffy dining room.

The one-page menu changes regularly and is appealing. There’s no rule that says you have to order the Dexter cheeseburger but there’s barely a table that doesn’t. And it is a good burger, well-balanced, with flavoursome aged beef and a shiny brioche bun. Otherwise, there’s a faint Spanish accent to the plates coming out of the open kitchen, albeit less pronounced than at the Plimsoll’s nearby sibling, Tollingtons. Most of what we ate was just a whisker off excellent: ripe early-summer Vesuvio tomatoes with olive oil are perfectly good as they are – even the snowdrift of grated Tomme de Chèvre goat's cheese over the top is too much. The same goes for the oakheart lettuce; it just needs a lighter touch with the mustard vinaigrette. 

Presentation throughout is winningly simple; decorative details being limited to the vintage floral china. Whole plaice, a scrawny specimen, comes grilled and drenched in 'nduja butter, while lamb rump (juicy and pink) arrives in thick slices with mint and spiced yoghurt. Pudding is the highlight: a slice of strawberry jam tart with custard and cream. Drinks-wise, there is plenty of interest including orange wines, sparklers, apéros, ciders and, of course, Guinness.

You may think that an ear-splittingly noisy restaurant, painted black, run by a team of tattooed chefs and named after a US punk band of the 70s, is not for you. Think again. This place is a terrific find. Mark Hill heads the kitchen, sending out eclectic Asian-inspired street food ‘with a big slice of punk rock’. That means an ever-changing line-up of small plates or an unstuffy tasting menu of five or six adventurous dishes rich in spices and heady flavours.

We enjoyed a cracking ‘14-spice pigeon yakitori’: two generous pieces on a skewer finished with nam jim, peanuts and lime leaves. Elsewhere, jackfruit was cleverly transformed with the addition of Burmese curry paste and a ‘prik laab’ spice mix, all set on a parilla leaf and served with pickle, chilli jam, crunchy onions and crackers. Hull meets Bangkok on Sunday when they have their own distinctive take on the classic roast lunch. Expect slow-roast beef, pork with a soy glaze and prik laab-cured duck breast, while tamarind-glazed celeriac served with a spiced beignet stuffed with betel leaves should please the vegans. All the dishes come with confit carrots, charred cabbage, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and a fabulous gravy singing with spices.

As for dessert, try the delightful ‘distorted’ steamed ginger pudding – a mini suet pudding filled with stem ginger floating in a soothing chamomile and miso custard. A chilled glass of South African Gamay shone from the short, well-described wine list, but don't ignore the cool cocktails. ‘We play brash music, serve spicy food and strong drink, but most importantly, we are a place of respect, welcomeness and love,’ say the owners. You have been warned.

Occupying a corner on one of Cheltenham's broad avenues, the Tivoli wears its traditional credentials on its sleeve. Drinkers congregate in the front bar, while a spacious, wood-floored, low-lit dining area is run with friendly efficiency. Classic pub stalwarts are backed up with special deals on certain days, and there is just enough creativity within the format to maintain interest. A slab of chunky ham hock and parsley terrine is a good bet for opener, ahead of roast partridge with bacon and bread sauce or well-timed cod fillet with cabbage and brown shrimps in buttery chicken reduction. Finish with baked rice pudding and boozy prunes. Good cocktails, beers and wines contribute to the cheer.

The sense of almost mythological remoteness is accentuated as you head towards the west Wales coast, past the RSPB nature reserve, to the singular residence that is Ynyshir. Once owned by Queen Victoria, it has become one of the UK's foremost destination dining options – thanks to Gareth Ward and his superlative kitchen and front-of-house teams. Ynyshir runs to its own agenda, with dozens of dishes over the space of four or five hours, requiring a level of concentration that will be amply rewarded with revelatory food rocking with stirring flavours, textures and temperatures, plus a soundtrack curated by the resident DJ. Highlights from our latest visit ranged from a lobster claw with peanut brittle and spritzed lime (served on a hot metal plate) to another appetiser of raw prawns in Thai green curry sauce with slivers of sugar-snap. When the music amps up a little (Iggy Pop's 1977 hit, The Passenger, in our case), it's time to sashay into the dining room. What makes the experience so enjoyable is that there is no set way to eat the food; use whatever implements look right and ignore the neighbours. When we had finished our corpulent Orkney scallop, we lifted the dish to our lips and drank up the milky wagyu-fatted sauce. East Asian notes are a golden thread running through many of these dishes, sometimes almost conventionally so – as with the maki rolls that begin with yellowfin tuna, nori, white soy, sesame and English wasabi. Among the sushi offerings, the sea bream with compressed apple and more wasabi is a textural triumph. Miso-cured duck liver mousse with smoked eel and puffed spelt has plenty to say for itself, but so does a piece of Irish duck served in a style somewhere between Peking and char siu, but before we peak too soon, there's lamb rib to come, slow-cooked for an eternity, tender as marshmallow in shiso and onion, ahead of confit wagyu and mushroom ketchup alongside egg-yolked rice. A culinary joke takes us from savoury to sweet, via a burger with pickle and a homage to the McFlurry, flavoured with banana, birch syrup and caviar. A glitterball suddenly switches on and the smoke bucket is carried ceremonially through the room, to the strains of Bronski Beat’s Smalltown Boy. Desserts gently return us to the comfort zone with toffee pudding (albeit sauced with miso) and an elegantly layered, liquorous tiramisu. There is a feeling that you might need to prepare for Ynyshir by forgoing solid sustenance for 48 hours, but our feedback files show how volubly people adore the novelty, the challenge and the sheer unadulterated fun of it all. And it is less relentless than it sounds: 'the tempo of the performance surges, then slackens and surges again, led by the music, and the fever-pitch deliciousness of some of the dishes,' our inspector noted. Wine picks are as original and as assertive as they need to be for the food, and are flexible enough to accommodate the gentler end of the spectrum (a Bulgarian Pinot Noir was a success with lamb). However, some cheaper options don't quite have enough impact for many of the potently flavoured dishes.