One Filthy Burger, M4 1HP.

Saturday gone was a corker of a day, bets placed on the Grand National followed by one juicy burger. Fortunately, the burger was significantly better than my betting technique, with my horses coming in 10th and falling at the 22nd fence!

In line with the growing trend of pop-up restaurants a cracking burger joint has recently appeared in Manchester Northern Quarter behind an un-marked wooden door at the top of three flights of stairs. In fact, if it wasn’t for the queue of people and the door man it would be quite discrete… I begrudgingly enjoyed every bite of my food, although you can’t escape the pretentiousness of the place – paying £2.20 for a jar of Dr Pepper does not float my boat. However, the thought of mixing cocktails in large jars, lidding them, shaking them, unscrewing and then serving as is has to be commended – highly resourceful – saves on washing up, cheap and easy. I’ve made a mental note of that one.

Animal burger with trailer trash fries.

Four quid down.

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