Tootsies, Chapelfield Plain

26 October 2007

People of Norfolk ‘do different’. Nonetheless, different has a scale – I’d love to think the city is ready for bacon & egg ice cream and blancmange made of numbers, but this is, after all, Delia’s turf, not Heston’s.

My own search for perfection is less scientifically rigorous than that of Mr Blumenthal – all I want to know is where to find the best burger round here, not least because right now, Mrs Wifey needs beef.

I’m not sure what my vegetarian family eat when feeling a little peaky (a *really* fat mushroom?), but in this house the cure is steak. Failing that, a burger is a good second-best, or, in the event of mastication fatigue, meatshake.

In the grey area between plans A and B falls the steak sandwich. At Tootsies, this also constitutes the *healthy* option (it comes with salad instead of fries). This way forward lies Mrs Wifey’s lunch.

I, on the other hand, am a sucker for regional burger lore, which alleges that Tootsies once claimed to be Norwich’s burgermeister. However, it would seem that the self-styled Chelsea of the municipal burger league has since fallen on leaner times; its patties are no longer described as superlative, but more simply ‘famous’. Still, having never met celebrity food of any description, I’m brimming with eager anticipation, autograph book at the ready.

Stoking my excitement further, the waitress brings over the condiments. Four types of mustard! Four! Wholegrain, Dijon, English and that bright yellow ick that looks like canary cement with additional E102, E110 and monosodium glutamate! (That last exclamation mark was possibly excessive, but sometimes that punctuation surf is too hard to quit.)

With this banquet of mustard the ambassador really is spoiling us – but frankly such choice overfaces me. I choose none of the above. Instead, I stuff the iconic burger with the onion marmalade. It’s dark, sloppy, sweet and gorgeous (like me, in onion form). The house ketchup, meanwhile, is thick, rich and delicious (no comment) and a perfect foil for the generically dull fries.

Tootsies’ burgers look and taste like they’re made of beef. Real beef. Maybe not free-range longhorn cattle, but some fine meat all the same. And considering some of the gristle round here, that goes a long way.

Famous, however? Again, there are scales. On a scale of Trisha Goddard to Admiral Nelson, this burger is, at the very least, Stephen Fry.

Eat here: sacred cow
Keywords: where's the beef?