Grace Dent reviews Patty & Bun: 'Do not get pregnant by any man who wears a Patty & Bun sweatshirt'

Grace Dent burgers up her diet at Patty & Bun
Crowd pleaser: Patty & Bun is worth queuing for
Grace Dent28 November 2017

Ambience: ☆☆☆
Food: ☆☆☆★

The fetishisation of the burger continues. Despite the bombardment of Honest, Byron, Dirty Burger, Patty & Bun and MeatLiquor aiming to put a 3,000-calorie blowout of brioche, batter and bourbon on every corner, London shows no signs of ennui. I am not their average customer. Diet sensibility-wise I find myself straddled several yards short of the spooky Eat Nourish Glow brigade — who claim to survive on tepid egg cups of boiled bones — yet far from a woman who eats a double-stack patty with onion rings dipped in chipotle mayonnaise at lunchtime guilt-free. Although, if I’m honest, I can, and have done, and several photos of me exist on the internet standing at parties with my arms around gaunt, size 6 showbiz chums resembling, in relative terms, an amiable Tyrannosaurus rex that has entered a toddler’s sandpit.

But I’ll tell you who can gobble down deep-fried buttermilk chicken smeared in aïoli, and a lemon cheesecake milkshake, at lunchtime with a raffish lack of regret: young Londoners. That’s why at 4pm on a drab Monday afternoon on day one of Patty & Bun’s new branch on Old Compton Street — on the same site as the old Stockpot — there was a full house of under-25s demolishing Ari Golds and paper cups stuffed with chips encrusted with chicken skin salt. I arrived at 4pm to avoid queuing. If you want to see young women seriously reconsidering their long-term relationship plan, witness the everlasting line of determined boyfriends at 1pm on Saturday outside the James Street branch in W1. Oh, she thought she was going for a day out and maybe they’d grab a burger. She didn’t know the burger was the day out. Tip: do not get pregnant by any man who wears a Patty & Bun sweatshirt.

Still, it’s hard not to be seduced by Patty & Bun and the Old Compton Street branch is no weak sibling. All bespoke burger joints have their quirks: Patty & Bun is known for excellent beef patties, but also for making a fuss over lamb, confit chicken wings and portobello mushrooms. I adore how the burgers appear in a dainty parcel of stiff greaseproof paper resembling a fancy gift. I love the playlist of loud Skepta then Lartiste then Redlight clashing into Brandy and Monica. I love how the chain veers away from plain old Americana, offering tamarind glazes, scatterings of smoked peanut, sobrasada chilli relish, jalapeño butter sauces and sides of brisket tots served with peri peri sauce. One could eat at Patty & Bun a dozen times and — before being removed from one’s house by a jumbo ambulance — wouldn’t need to eat the same meal twice.

Seductive: One could eat at Patty & Bun a dozen times and wouldn’t need to eat the same meal twice

And boy, would those calories be worth it. The Hot Chic chicken burger on an untoasted brioche arrived stuffed with three pieces of exquisite, delicately breadcrumbed buttermilk chicken. It was sweet, cake-like and malevolently addictive. A Lambshank Redemption could perhaps have benefited from more cumin to fight with its feta. The chips were gaspingly salted, but a vivid green side of coleslaw was shot through with fresh basil, a nice touch. There’s an ambitious cocktail list, although I stuck to house red vino — a decent Tempranillo. The famous Winger Winger Chicken Dinner (confit wings smothered in barbecue sauce and spring onions) is here in all its glory. I will return when my conscience allows it. Youth — and the ability to eat burgers and wear crop tops — is so damn wasted on the young.

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1/128

Patty & Bun

1 Hot Chic chicken burger £8.50

1 Lambshank Redemption £8.50

1 Chips with chicken skin salt £3.70

1 Coleslaw £3

2 glasses Tempranillo £8

Total: £31.70

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