Burger. Lager. Simple

The bun must be toasted. The beef must be medium. The gherkins must be crispy.

The salad must be on the side. The cheese must be stringy. The fries must be crispy.

Bacon, tomato, mayonnaise: optional.

And the beer - has to be lager.

I usually give little thought to beer & food matching - drink what you like, they are no rules - except for the Cardinal Rule of beer & food matching. Burgers taste better with lager.

No over-sickly malts to get stuck in your clack. No over-powering hops that nuke your palate.

Just a long, tall pint of something slightly flavoured and slightly fizzy. That makes you burp gherkin all over your nearest & dearest.

This week's burgering about has been accompanied by Beck's (at home, from Co-op, as it was the cheapest palatable lager on offer) and Stella (at the golf club, as it was, er, what I've been drinking there for seventeen years). In the past it's been Brooklyn or Meantime or Jever but I'm convinced the brand is not important. The sheer slightness of lager, the just-so flavour and steady carbonation, is what turns even an average burger into the breakfast of champions.


I would have included a picture of the world's biggest handburger but it made me gag just looking at it. So, instead, I mercilessly ripped off a picture of White Castle fries that, as any Beastie Boys fan knows, only come in one size. But I still wonder why...