Manchester’s foodie scene is buzzing with chatter about the city’s latest pop-up diner, Humbug, which has been causing quite a stir and not just locally. The brainchild of the team from Stockport’s Where The Light Gets In, this new burger spot in the city centre is all about sustainability, serving up ‘nose-to-tail’ burgers, mushroom popcorn, and yes, you read that right, there’s a £40 deposit to dine (but more on that later).
The eatery has been turning heads mainly due to chef Sam Buckley’s remarks to the press, where he said the venture aims to explore ‘the notion of fast food in a social and historical context’. This isn’t your average McDonald’s experience.
These comments have sparked some backlash, with accusations flying around that the project is ‘performative’ and ‘pretentious’. And honestly, Buckley’s words haven’t exactly helped to silence those critics.
Social media has been ablaze with memes and posts, leaving opinions divided among the Great British public.
Some have dismissed it as “Everything’s so performative,” and others have slammed it as ‘pretentious nonsense’, accusing it of being nothing more than an excuse to jack up prices. However, there are those who see it differently, praising it as a ‘powerful concept’ and a ‘great way to reconnect people with where their food comes from’, even calling it, if you’ll excuse the pun, ‘real food for thought’, reports the Manchester Evening News.
Despite the pretences, there’s a lot to appreciate about Humbug’s concept. According to Sam, each of the 1,200 burgers sold will be sourced from a single Cheshire-bred Red Poll cow named Maraschino, with patties made from prime cuts, offal and everything in between.
It certainly sparks a much-needed conversation about meat sustainability and over-consumption – but whether that message has been effectively communicated remains to be seen. The £40 per person deposit doesn’t help either, leaving me feeling frustrated and resentful before I’ve even set foot in the door.
In today’s climate where restaurant owners constantly lament about fleeting bookings, I’m not against deposits. They provide some security for the venue, but £40 per person seems excessive, particularly for what is essentially a burger and chips.
But then again, many customers enjoy exclusivity and are willing to pay for it. One way to look at it is that I’ve already paid for my meal before arriving.
However, given it’s January, none of my friends are willing to join me once I mention the deposit, so I find myself dining alone at Humbug on a chilly Tuesday night.
Dubbed as the second act of Play in the City, a three-month residency challenging ‘how the city feels itself and the true cost of food’, this burger spot is nestled within the KAMPUS neighbourhood (just look for the neon green burger sign next to Nell’s). Upon arrival, I’m warmly welcomed by the chefs and servers who guide me to my table and explain that since I’ve already paid my deposit, I could go for the £40 happy meal – essentially everything on the menu – or select from the two burger options (a Hamburger or a vegetarian humburger both priced at £12.50 each).
They also offer sides like onion rings, Lion’s Mane or Carlingford Oyster popcorn and fries, with prices ranging from £4.50 to £9, plus an array of dips costing £2 each. After some quick mental arithmetic trying to work out the best value for money, I decide to go all-in with the Happy Meal.
For £40, you get a burger, a pot of cheese sauce, fries, onion rings, popcorn, a dip of your choice and a soft serve ice cream to finish. As I’m not a fan of oysters (and they’re sold out during my visit anyway), I opt for the Lion’s Mane popcorn.
Expressing my apprehension about not being a mushroom lover, my server reassures me that they actually have a meaty texture rather than the distinct mushroom taste and feel. We’ll see about that.
In about ten minutes, my entire order arrives at the table, served on a tray with each item individually potted and the burger wrapped up. It’s slightly overwhelming initially, but I quickly dive in, starting with the mushroom popcorn.
Surprisingly, it’s quite good – the Cajun spice adds an interesting twist and the server was spot on about the flavour. The texture is meaty (if that’s a thing), and honestly, I wouldn’t have known they were mushrooms if I hadn’t been told.
The onion rings are a standout. Coated with a subtle yet generous dusting of salt and vinegar powder, they’re deep-fried perfection and rank among the best I’ve had.
Just be prepared to use plenty of napkins for your fingers. The fries are average, they do their job but are a tad too salty for my taste – especially considering everything else on the tray is already so salt-heavy.
Then, with a board displaying the number ‘673’ (indicating the countdown until the whole cow is used up), it’s time for the burger. It’s packed with flavour, rich and incredibly juicy.
While it may not win any beauty contests, the toasted brioche, onions and pot of cheese sauce take it to another level. I also have a small pot of apple barbecue sauce which is smoky, sweet and utterly delightful.
At this juncture, I feel the concept has truly come to fruition. The backstory and journey to get here adds a whole new layer of appreciation for the food before me.
I want to savour each mouthful because, quite frankly, I don’t want Maraschino’s life to have been in vain (of course, there is another way of dealing with that but we’ll discuss the ethics of meat-eating another time). This, I believe, is what elevates it from a good burger to an exceptional one.
Without this context, I could have consumed the same burger and had a completely different dining experience. Perhaps this is what the chef and his team are trying to provoke here.
To finish off my meal, the soft serve is another delightful surprise. It’s a dairy treat, smothered in butterscotch sauce and chunky biscuit crumbles.
It’s a sugar high that I thoroughly enjoy, even if the pot does feature an image of a cow gazing back at me, prompting me to question my actions. Having significantly depleted my deposit, I end up having to fork out just over £10 for my drink and service charge, which I find a tad steep for what you receive.
I’m not as bitter about the deposit now that I’ve actually ended up paying more than it, but £50 for a burger, some sides and an ice cream does seem rather pricey – especially when, as I’m waiting for my bill, ODB’s ‘Got Your Money’ is playing on the sound system, providing a sort of commentary on the proceedings.
While the experience has given me a fresh perspective on the journey of my food and made me think about over-consumption, I would have preferred to learn these lessons at a lower cost. However, it was an excellent gourmet burger and perhaps doesn’t deserve all the criticism it’s received online.
