I’m ashamed to say that I miss pubs. As an Englishman living in Hong Kong, a good pub - a local - is something I crave. As dear to my heart as it already is, my nostalgia is made all the more intense by the cold realisation that my local was something I grew up truly taking for granted. Coming to Hong Kong, I then spent a year almost exclusively visiting the sort of nightspots that look more like chic art installations than comfortable pint supping locales. Eyes and mind thoroughly glazed over from the heady cocktails sporting absurd ingredients, in this first year of debauchery I went about inadvertently forgetting my heritage. No longer happy with a swift pint or a no-frills G&T, I took a bizarre interest in Lamborghinis set alight, shots consumed whilst in sub-zero environments and beverages found within pouring distance of anyone branded a ‘Mixologist’.

 

Hindsight is a wonderful thing and recently in McSorley’s Ale House as I relaxed with my very normal pint, awaiting delivery of what I was confident would be a paradigm-consistent burger, I couldn’t help but reflect on my virgin year in Hong Kong and smile despite myself. Over the past year I’ve been gently rediscovering the lure of good beer drinking venues. That’s not to say I’ve hit the sauce- simply that I’ve remembered the joy of keeping things simple.

Ascending the spiral staircase tucked away in the corner of McSorley's, after musing over the amount of spills it must’ve caused many an overzealous patron, I was greeted by the newly updated upstairs. Gone is the space devouring pool table and in its place lies a seating area capable of comfortably entertaining 40 diners. With plasma TVs adorning more than one wall and a large projector taking centre stage above the entrance, this new use of space has both diversity and comfort at its core.

 

After a few minutes spent eying the fresh new surroundings, my burger’s arrival was heralded by an intoxicating whiff of prime beef. As anticipated, the chef at McSorley’s delivered a truly authentic burger experience; I opted for the burger of the month, a vast Texan treat, complete with all the trimmings one could wish for.

 

To suggest this burger redefined my understanding of satisfaction is, perhaps, something of an exaggeration, but as the burger vanished, mouthful-by-mouthful, I found myself in a state of total, unabashed bliss.

The whole burger experience, real as it was, could serve as a metaphor for McSorley’s part in defining the merits of traditional pub going. At a time where the evolution of burgers has brought us to a land of Wagyu beef, Oxtail and Ostrich meat, this Texan feast does for burgers precisely what McSorley’s does for pubs, keeps things fresh, keeps things simple, and keeps things the way they ought to be.

What more could you want from SoHo’s local?