Meatliquor W1

I ate here a couple of times when it first opened a few years back, but on weekend lunchtimes when it is less busy. This time we went On a Thursday evening and it was predictably very busy, although by the time we had ordered a cocktail at the bar a table came free, so we didn't wait for long. We had their legendary butter-grilled cheeseburger, fries and onion rings to share (you really need to share these, they are the size of dustbin lids!) and a few pretty decent negronis. I fear that I am now of an age though where I have become less tolerant of loud music and would much rather have have a conversation, so not sure I will be rushing back any time soon, I was relieved to step out into the relative peace and quiet of Oxford Street. The staff are rushed off their feet but friendly and accommodating.

Meat Liquor is a great place to eat and hangout with friends. The best burgers in London are served up with fried pickles, onion rings, and many more delicious items. No reservations, so you will have to compete with others for a table.

The MEAT and the liquor half of London has been raving about. Not only are they raving, they are queuing down the street for a mouthful. The sight of NO RESERVATIONS always worries me. Standing still for over an hour is not an ideal combination with my ants in pants syndrome. With intense burger cravings we arrived at 11:48am, 12 minutes before MEATliquor opens it’s doors. Second in line, SCORE! Turned around 2 minutes later to find about 50 people queuing behind us so thank god my friend is a punctual German. Not only is he German but was incredibly hungover, making our burger mission evermore vital. Experienced MEATliquor-ers had mentioned a Quentin Tarantino influence. They were spot on. Dark, gloomy decor with a comical, sadistic twist to it – Quentin in a nutshell. Will not spoil the quirky interior of this burger joint, will leave that element of surprise for when you visit yourself. Unless you get so hungry waiting in the queue you could care less by the time you make it inside. This is possible. Known for their liquor – I naturally went for a cocktail. It would be rude not to try one, plus it’s so dark in there it feels like night time. Space Gin Smash highly recommended if you share my love for elderflower. Fresh but with a punch, great balance. To accompany my smashing cocktail I had the Mushroom Provolone Cheesesteak – shaved rumpsteak, onions, mushrooms, provolone cheese in a bun. This Philly Cheesesteak is massive. Genuinly impressed with myself for finishing. Some chunks of the steak were a little chewy if I must be critical. Though a mushy bun filled with meat, onion and melted cheese definitley satisfies. Would have preferred more cheese as it was a tad meat heavy. Side of Slaw – southern style, was pretty decent and not overly creamy. The hungover German went for the Dead Hippie – 2x beef patties, dead hippie sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, minced white onions. Side of Fries – not chips – which were greasy but would likely please a fries-lover (which I’m not). Tastebuds on a hangover are risky, surely anything with high fat content hits the spot so I took a bite of judgement into the Dead Hippie. My friends hangover had in fact not impaired his sense of taste, that hippie was dead on. Service was quite slow, drinks took about 15 minutes to arrive. Did they run to the back garden to pick the elderflower? Waitresses were busy but attentive enough to see when we needed anything. Next time I'm going for a burger, accompanied by a cocktail of course. American food with every intention of curing hangovers. The whimsical interior (down to the restrooms!) gives major brownie points and the bar looks like it would be buzzing on a Friday night. Only piece of advice, arrive at least 12 minutes prior to opening. Or bring a camping chair, a thermos of coffee and chill in the queue. www.passthetruffle.co.uk

It feels a bit copy-cat tastic to join the chorus of approval, but there is no way of hiding the fact that my recent dinner at meatliquor was an unmitigated triumph. How happy am I that I arrived suitably hungry? To have not done the food justice would have been criminal, but let me go back on myself and give a more fulsome account of what went down culinary wise on Friday night. My friend and I were wise enough to turn up super early, as in still wearing office attire early rather than shed of our work persona and be in our ‘home clothes’ – and this tactic spared us the worst of the queues, although when we did enter the no bookings system was somewhat stretched to capacity as there was a gaggle of other diners waiting by the bar to be seated. Luckily for us this is when the cocktail menu kicked into play. I started and indeed continued the night on Fallen Angelitas a tequila based cocktail that was deceptively refreshing but packed a boozy punch – think souped-up lime cordial and you get the general flavour. The décor was very ‘Goths-r-Us’: faux blood splattered walls, graffiti ‘house rules’ scrawled on the wall proclaiming ‘no d***heads’ and other unsavoury sorts allowed and indie-rock being blasted from the stereo system. The regulation hipsters have been transplanted from their natural East End habitat to serve as waiting staff in this West End establishment and the food and drink orders are bellowed across the din to add to the whole manic vibe. Whilst some might find these affectations a tad pretentious, the food and dare I type it, the pretty factor of said staff, made you forgive all of the above. The menu is pretty short and focused. Do not come here if you don’t want to eat a burger or hot dog with fries and do not come here if you like fancy tableware and would baulk at your food being served to you on a metal tray. I would say do not come here on a first date, but if your ardour for one another can survive rivulets of burger juice travelling up your arm as you go for your first bite and copious mouth wiping with the kitchen towel roll provided (no point in napkins when you are tackling the unholy trinity of mustard, ketchup and mayo), then it’s good to say you’re onto a winner. I opted for the Green Chilli Cheese Burger, a riff on a classic cheeseburger with the introduction of green chilli mayo and a portion of classic fries and my friend had the Mushroom Swiss Burger. The fact that neither of us talked to one another for twenty minutes (and we can both chat for England) tells a story all of its own about how good these burgers are. Add to this that by the time my plate was clear I was chair-dancing in happiness (hey, by this point I had embraced all elements of the experience and Santigold was playing on the stereo), shows just how good it felt to eat something so uncompromisingly delicious. Simple things done well may have become a trend of late in the dining scene with the proliferation of singular themed restaurants opening up, but when they are done this well, you can be forgiven for not bothering to diversify the menu. Next time I am coming dressed like a latter day Afro-Zombie and eating a Dead Hippie Burger with fries AND slaw. The food will definitely be good so I might as well aim for blending in with the surroundings accordingly.

Great burgers, the Dead Hippie my favourite, great chilli fries and great cocktails for a decent price, I couldn't be more pleased with Meat Liquor on the two previous visits I have made. I am returning again next week, and surely that's all the review you need, paying customers returning should say it all, but if not then the queue down the street any time after 6pm should be enough. This is not fine dining, it's burgers and fries served on trays with kitchen roll in a dimly lit trendy restaurant. If you don't want that don't go. If you want amazing burgers and cocktails for two at £50 or so then get there. I think it's ace.

Came here on a girl's night out after giving up on the queue at Bubbledogs, and still hungry after cocktails and a few scraps in the bar at Dabbous. We were desparate. Felt sick when the smell hit me as I walked in. Felt sick when I left, full of junk food. Slept awfully that night due to the food baby that had grown in my tummy. I was expecting great things, perhaps too much, as the whole experience was disappointing. Highs: good cocktails, great chicken burger. And thank God for coleslaw which took the edge off all the fried food. Lows: the burger was disappointing – dry and overcooked. It was way too dark – I like to vaguely see what I'm eating, even it's junk food, otherwise nerves take hold. That's why I've never been to Dans Le Noir. Beer only served in cans – what's wrong with bottles?! This is the place to come if ravenously stumbling round Fitzrovia after a night of excess. I will be avoiding on future evenings out with the ladies.

One of the best burgers you will ever eat.

The constant queue outside MeatLiquor speaks for itself. This place is magnificent. The decor may seem a little sinister and intimidating at first; very dark with paint splattered walls and heads of various animals you are about to devour illustrated on the ceiling. If the design of the restaurant isn't to your taste, I can assure you that the food will be. A cheeseburger is very reasonably priced at £6.50 and perfect every time Food is served with a roll of kitchen paper (which one makes very good use of). Tip: ask them to hold the onion on the cheese fries – they tend to add far too much diced raw onion and it overpowers the flavour. I really can't sing this place's praises enough. Staff are always friendly, drinks are to die for and the food is un-fussy and magnificent. If you like MeatLiquor – try their “fast food joint” inspired sister in Covent Garden, MeatMarket.

A cathedral of meat; that’s what Meatliquor is. I’m unsure whether this came to me in a moment of near-brilliance as I chowed down on my inexcusable fried feast, or whether I pilfered the term from a fellow reviewer. Either way, it sums up the joint a treat. Everything reinforces the notion, from the dome-like ceiling spattered with scarlet graffiti, haunting skulls and the odd menacing owl, to the slavish devotion rumoured to drive queueing times into untold realms. And they really do wait longingly by the way, and you will too (unless, that is, you like your burgers for breakfast). The dramatic surroundings are undoubtedly divisive; some will revel in the assault on the senses like it’s a Hell’s Angel’s pipe dream, while others are sure to recoil. Some may question why the latest commodity to earn its own veritable theme park is chargrilled flesh, but that’s one for the cool kids with no reservations to decide. So we found ourselves sat in this American-diner-come-hick-bar, overlooking the spectacle and feeling a little overwhelmed by the heart-quickening neon and noise that slices through the paint-splattered gloom. I’m served my Dead Hippie on a utilitarian tray, and discover there are few pleasures as wrong yet right as said burger. Though deceptively modest in size, we were floored by over-ordering. (Our lovely and entirely unpretentious waitress kindly tried to disuade us, to no avail). And so to the happily plump, double patties soused with unctuous cheese and their slightly sweet, neat bap, alongside gargantuan onion rings and tangles of super-skinny fries. Then there was the outrageous hot dog which earned my vote for its sheer bullishness. Admittedly it was near-impossible to eat, but the chilli was fragrant with earthy spice and the smokey frank was devilishly tasty. There are numerous pretenders to the burger zeitgeist’s throne. In my mind, Meatliquor reigns supreme above its peers; perhaps even dear old Lucky Chip. But herein lies the problem. The latter’s higgledypiggledy charm – its willful shabbiness – is born out of the scatty but organic roots of an eclectic location (that being Hackney’s finest, Broadway Market). Admittedly, this location may have its own share of posturing, but its ramshackle surroundings are genuine. For all its speakeasy leanings, Meatliquor lacks authenticity. Many of the affectations are indeed fitting, like rolls of kitchen paper to dab away unruly sauce and soft drinks served in jam jars. I hear that fans are tattooed (or rather branded) with the restaurant’s name; this is all in keeping with the aesthetic. But I cringe at an eye-watering exchange between father and grown-up son, in which Junior reveals to his Pa that the gents resides behind the door scrawled ‘Dicks’. There’s a part of me – and I wish there wasn’t – that fears it might all be a tad… well, daft. A rockabilly hipster at the bar definitely looked the part – knocking back sazeracs like he’d just parked up his trailor having escaped the cast of True Blood – but he was well within earshot of the bevvy of West-End shoppers. As he looked on, a well-to-do family celebrated purchases from a local department store in a very middle-class take on the show ‘n’ tell session. And, bizarrely for a place that looks like the aftermath of a blood bath between a goth and a redneck, there’s no shortage of yummy mummies with kin in tow. It’s not a date place either; the burger is awash with obscene levels of juiciness, and I left with non-specific gloop smeared about my person. I eventually emerged like a newborn, totally bewildered by sunlight. I was also at the mercy of a deep, debilitating meat funk, which robbed me of the afternoon. So I’d say go to Meatliquor, but don’t stay too long; it’s simply too intense to reclaim your day. But as a place to dip in between too many rounds of drinks, with an almighty feed for two under 30 quid? Spot on.