"MEAT STOP" in this instance is not a slogan my vegan mother would angrily daub onto a placard. No no, in this case her sinful son is checking into his next burger bay obsession. Since 1865 Abraham Keymer's dark green vessel of a pub has dominated the nexus of Commercial, Wheler and Calvin streets. Originally filled to the rigging with local market traders, dockworkers and East Enders it eventually leaned into the 2000s regeneration of the area, praised and lamented simultaneously by so many.
Further updates by current owners Urban Pubs & Bars followed. The swoop of white brick and painted stucco dressing swings out like the back of a boat, inside the doors are swung open for the undecided evening, stucco angel wings, antlers at odd angles and miles of peeling plaster meld the Victorian and hipsterian eras.
A fan of 19th Century architecture I certainly am. Burgers? I am a bit of a sceptic, having been disappointed so many times before. Illijah and his unseen business partner Ben have been in residence since the beginning of the year, and have all their ‘i’s dotted, "Essex-farmed, Essex-sourced produce - dry-aged beef ground daily, served in a custom spec brioche bun, all cooked fresh on site."
Like a cuckolded lover my eyes roll, I've heard it all before, and what normally lands on my table (and lap) is an insipid, limp, greyish mush whispering of beef and various pulverised vegetables. But the first nibble of the Car Boot is something quite different. Ears prick up, lips tremble, by Christ almighty this is a good patty. Thick, solid, and wailing with that umami song of long extending prairies, Oklahoma-style (grilled and compressed to almost obliteration), onions, with one of the famous house's sauces (burger in this case) liberally infused between the layers of appropriately collapsing American cheese.
Onwards we charge, Blue Magic, dear GOD, on the sweeter side with dark fanbelts of caramelised onions and Stilton tussling with pickles for that blend of sugar and savoury. Original Nutta builds on this even more and might be divisively dessert-y, but without a final course on the menu should be saved for last. American PB&J sandwich is the closest analogy, chilli jam and a thumping great strata of peanut butter keep this just on the acceptable side of saccharine.
Trouble is the BBQ baby, "bad decisions encouraged" it claims, but as I clutch my Lucky Saint I feel it isn't really talking to me. Jalapeños add heat, BBQ again sweet, American cheese is just there for a good time. The Classic is a very very good bun-party. Do the basics and do them well, and the overarching idea of "fast food upgraded" rings true. Skins (triple-cooked fries) like little beetle wings of encrusted baby potato, thrust into the hand-made and much-experimented "now you can speak after the garlic butter" sauces: chimichurri in avocado green, garlic aioli and the ever- present burger sauce.
5 buns and a punnet of fries is not everyone's idea of an evening meal. However, with patties this good (fermented vegetable alternatives from Symplicity can be subbed in for my mother and her ilk) it's a great way to quickly catch up, line those stomachs, entertain those tonsils and save your bank account. The fact that Illijah had the kitchen completely cleaned for my friend's bacon avoidance is one of those extras that gives me hope for the restaurant industry. The blokes have their sights on Soho next so watch this march, these Meats are not Stopping anytime soon.
Meat Stop
142 Commercial Street
London E1 6NU
