Filthy. Dirty. Mucky. But blissfully comforting. You’ll get pretty close to the Quebecoise hot mess of chips, curds and gravy at burger spot Dip’n’Flip and Hampstead’s Garden Gate pub. But you’ll nail it – oh boy you’ll nail it right between the eyes – at The Poutinerie, a Brick-Lane-On-Sunday stall run by an actual, real-life, in-the-flesh Canadian called (phrasebooks out) Paul. It goes full-blown puritan and uses proper curds in the unholy trinity.
If your response to “How would you like your steak, sir?” is “Utterly corrupted, yo!” then grab one of these hellbeasts. Ribbons of prime rib-eye of beef get sordid with spoonfuls of Cheese Wiz, then sent to the doughy depths inside a soft Italian “hoagie roll” sub. And nobody’ll give you the authentic post-dish sweaty regret like the Philadelphian ex-pats of Liberty Cheesesteak, who fry up greatness at Spitalfields Market.
You like the thrill of pizza. And you like the frivolity of pancakes. And you like the sophistication of saying you “went Japanese” for lunch. Well take a seat son, life’s about to take a stonking great turn for the better. Okonomiyaki are pretty much all three in one – cabbagey/eggy/battery things with loads of toppings piled high. And from Japan. Abeno’s your place for these – Europe’s only specialist restaurant.
Two spots now, duking it out for your Po Boy allegiance. In the red corner, jumping on the spot, cracking its neck is Stax – the American diner with a big bruising Cajun-spiced popcorn shrimp and tangily sauced sammich. Its challenger? Hank’s Po Boys – wearing the colours of KERB and with an array of Po Boy versions to bring the pain, including the pulled pork, brisket and creole gravy “Poor Boy”.
Narcos taught us two things: one, that the word “puta!” covers all the sweary bases, and two, that Columbia’s national dishes sure did get the better of our Pablo. Terribly jumpered Pablo, with his belly like an oil drum, might have gotten away if it wasn’t for those empanadas and adobo wings slowing him down. Pour one out for the big man as you chow down in tribute at Colombian Street Kitchen at Green Rooms Hotel, and Maize Blaze at Camden Lock.
Joe Madden embarks on an epic quest for the benefit of all mankind
Joel Golby proposes a few ingenious flavour combinations he reckons will set the London scene alight
Got 20 minutes to kill before the 6:15 to Derby? No? How about 10? Here are the best platform-proximate haunts in the capital
We asked the UK's only American sweets delivery service Taffy Mail to send Joel Golby candy in the mail every morning for a week
We went along to Billingsgate Fish Market at the crack of dawn to ask the guys who work there where they reckon serves the best fish and chips