Milton Keynes is blessed (and I use the word only politely) with almost every chain restaurant the UK has to offer and I’ve probably eaten in pretty much all of them. We are the seeming growing go-to destination of choice for companies looking to stretch out of London with Smashburger and a Revolution De Cuba scattered amongst the bazillion Nando’s but then who can also forget the amusing if unfortunate Chimichanga incident of 2016? So some might suggest that it’s not 100% bad news. In fact, despite the over indulgence of Bella Italia and GBK’s I’m going to say it; some chains are ok – cue gasps of horror from all my hardcore foodie friends (I’m looking at you Mike…). In fact, I’m going to go further, some chains are positively nice (oh no, I may have gone too far. Mike is already on the speed dial arranging an intervention). I stand by that though, it’s true, it’s because food is entirely subject to the context of when and how you eat, or drink it. And of course, who you eat and/or drink it with. So it was with no pre-conceived opinions and only a hunger for a good plate of grub, I entered Browns* to see which side of the pitch they were kicking from.
If you follow this blog regularly then you’ll have a suspicion that between the two of us, my compadre SuburbanGent is the popular one who always looks good in his perfectly manicured suit, beautifully styled hair and shiny expensive shoes. Me? I just eat a lot and understand the truth in the fact that I’ve got a face (and body) for radio. So when Fusion got in touch and asked if we would like give away a years free membership, I thought ‘that’s one for him then, he loves a bit of gym action’. So I said; ‘Sounds good, can we come in and do a class to check it out? Maybe the super hardcore, ultramax cardio madness that is INTENCITY? How many different sessions are there? Four? That would be perfect, yes we’ll have a go at all of them.’ I chuckled to myself with the gleeful malice of a really good friend as I rang to break the news to him.
Dads. If you’re lucky, they teach you a load of different stuff as you grow up, some of which you need, some of which you don’t but they like to teach you anyway. In this respect, my Dad started off well but tailed off towards the end and specifically when it came to teaching me how to shave, he was a man of traditional tastes. Preferring his double edge stainless steel razor, over the two, three or five bladed modern inventions that he always regarded with a skepticism that bordered on the militant end of suspicious. As such, as soon as I left home, and in a display of youthful ill gained confidence I, obviously, ignored him completely. Coincidentally, for my 18th birthday I was sent a free razor by Wilkinson Sword in a move that proved more cunning than a fox who had just been ordained as Grand High Wizard of Cunning at the Official Church of Cunningology. Needless to say I’ve been sucked in to their lubricating stripped, multiple bladed, vibrating handled, flip topped progress ever since. That is, until now…
Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock, subscription services have boomed in recent years; whether it’s snacking options like Graze, craft-beer delivery service Beer52, meal plans from the likes of HelloFresh, fragrance from Secret Scent or even socks from Quiet Rebellion, it would seem the sky is the limit with stuff you can now get posted to your door.
Clearly, the options vary wildly and whilst perhaps not for everybody, they serve a purpose – by their nature subscription services like the above are highly giftable, they’re quirky and they’re fun. Think novelty factor.
What get’s more novelty then than a subscription to a cheese toastie service, billed as “the uber of grilled cheese sandwiches”? Yeah. You read that right… cheese toasties, straight to your door. Mind blown. Hold onto your hats people.
With the express exception of Tennis – Wimbledon in particular (the event of Kings), as a general rule I don’t ‘do’ sport. Although, if there was one American sport that I could probably get a bit too involved in, it would be American Football. I like the strategic nature of it, the clear player roles and different plays needed to win as well as the hilarious opportunity for bad lip reading. However, truth be told, I’ve never seen a single game despite it’s apparent growing popularity in the UK. But this is all going to change on the 5th of February when I will experience my first advert filled, three hour long, testosterone soaked night of sweat and excitement.
But what happened to make such a change? Well as with so many things in my life, it’s all about the food; the guys behind French’s and Franks Hot Sauce got in touch and asked me to go crazy with the condiment cupboard and tell them all about what I would want to eat while watching the game. So with my head full of hotdog dreams and chicken wing fantasies I decided to pop my pretend rugby ball shaped cherry and join our ever increasingly non-judgemental and open minded trans-atlantic cousins*.
At TwoMenAboutTown, it’s no secret that we like burgers. We hit some of the hottest chains last year and both Honest Burger and Smashburger faired pretty well but special mention goes out to local boys Sizzlers whom we first sampled at the MK Feast with their epic hunger destroying buns of deliciousness. However, it’s not always good news and if you hadn’t noticed, we like burgers so much that we get really annoyed when people like Kua’Ania mess them up. For shame.
So when the guys over at the London Bagel Co. promised to show us the future of the burger as we know it, how could we refuse taking a look?