Apparently the future of restaurants is a lot like the past

It may seem strange to start a review about a barbecue restaurant in Leyton by talking about Polpo, but there is a method to my madness. Polpo, that quintessential restaurant by the late Russell Norman, set the standard for so many restaurants in the wake of the 2007-2009 Great Recession. Even if you’ve never eaten in a Polpo, you’ll recognise its fingerprints in so many other restaurants. Stripped back decor. Small ‘sharing’ plates. No reservations taken and service with a casual vibe. Whether you like these things or not, all were driven by the reality of doing business in the days of Austerity 1.0.

There’s been some occasional future gazing in the restaurant press about what (if any) equivalent Polpo-esque adaptations restaurants will have to take on in the wake of the triple whammy that is Brexit, lockdown and inflation. Various scenarios have been mooted from menus and dishes getting simpler. Or they become so complicated and expensive, that dining with sit-down table service becomes the preserve of the middle aged who are comfortably well off.

Front-of-house service, which was already a torrid hotbed of financial precariousness and/or workplace toxicity in the Before Times, is one area ripe for upheaval post-triple whammy. Burnt Smokehouse, a halal-friendly barbecue restaurant in Leyton, eschews full-on table service in favour of a formula somewhat similar to that a Nando’s or indeed an old school barbecue eatery in the American South.

Upon arrival, you’re assigned a table by the lone front-of-house staff member. If you’re eating by yourself, mark your spot with a bumbag or somesuch and hope that no-one else ‘mistakenly’ takes your place while you’re queuing. Queue up to place your order at the counter, glancing at the blackboard-only menu as needed (no social distancing-era QR codes or apps here). You’ll be given an order number. When it’s called out over the loudspeaker, return to the counter to collect it.

This setup will never be mistaken for the height for attentive, detail-oriented customer service, but it gets the job done – more or less – as long none of your fellow diners do anything boneheaded.

But Burnt’s barbecue has to be up to snuff for any of this to be worthwhile.

Burnt’s beef brisket was not only moist, but tender enough to be cut apart with the gentle nudge of a fork – as is right and proper. But there was little bark and not nearly enough connective tissue, so it wasn’t texturally complete. It was also heavily dependent on salt and dripping run off from neighbouring dishes (on the one-for-all serving tray) for flavour.

On a subsequent visit, the brisket portion was noticeable larger. But bigger isn’t always better, as the ‘extra’ beef was drier than a pair of chapped lips in winter.

Each portion of lamb consists mostly of ribs – an under-appreciated cut that deserves to be eaten more widely in London. The thick bark had both umami and a gentle woodiness to it, while layers of squidgy fat and tender meat lurked underneath. To get the most out of it, it’s worth ordering at least two 100g portions.

Beef sausages were smooth then chunky with a moreish quality to each link.

Rather than serving beef short rib on the bone, Burnt’s kitchen insists on pairing the rib meat with carbs, whether you want it or not.

The brioche slices chosen for the sandwich was a mistake, as its domineering buttery sweetness overwhelmed the rest of the sandwich. The thin strands of pulled beef, and their intermittent woodiness, failed to make their presence felt. Even the pickled onions failed to stand up to the brioche’s overbearing presence, although its scanty portion size didn’t help.

The beef short rib tacos were just as much a failure, but in its own uniquely special way. The drab meat and underpowered pickled onions from the brioche sandwich made a repeat appearance, this time plopped onto somewhat leathery tortillas with some sour cream. If you want a homage to derivative high street pub slop rather than something that’s recognisably either barbecue or a taco, then this is the dish for you.

The Verdict

Whether Burnt’s Nando’s-esque approach to service represents the future of restaurants remains to be seen. I can see it taking off in premises large-ish enough for the queue and where diners are willing to trade less service for a lower price. For some though, including myself, it’d be something only worth tolerating if the food was up to snuff and it’s here that I feel a little Burnt. While Burnt’s barbecue isn’t without its charm – the lamb is a toothsome joy – as a whole, their efforts don’t live up to the standard set by either Texas Joe’s or fellow halal-friendly barbecue specialists Cuepoint. Especially given the consistency issues afflicting their brisket. Burnt’s barbecue isn’t exactly stuck in the past, but I certainly hope it’s not a taste of the future.

What to order: Lamb; sausage; possibly the brisket

What to skip: Beef sandwich; beef tacos

Name: Burnt

Branch tried: 161a Midland Road, Leyton, London E10 6JT

Phone: 020 3648 0401

Web: https://www.instagram.com/burnt.smokehouse/

Opening Hours: Wednesday-Thursday 17.00-22.00; Friday 17.00-23.00; Saturday 16.00-23.00; Sunday 16.00-21.00. Closed Monday-Tuesday.

Reservations: not taken

Average cost for one person including soft drinks and service charge: £30-35 approx.

Rating: ★★★☆☆