Arrayed to my right, a plethora of food stands vied for my attention, their intoxicating aromas calling to me like a siren beckoning a sailor to his craggy doom. “No. Show some resolve. There might be other, better choices further ahead.”
And so, there it was. Emerging from under the shade of the Trent End outer concourse, the reward for my patience stared longingly back at me. Nestled in the corner, overlooking the glistening river, stood Speciality Burger; its crisp, professional signage promising local, British, farm-friendly food. I didn’t stop to check the veracity of the statement. I needed to try one of their offerings, immediately.
A bacon and cheese burger was swiftly ordered.
Competitively-priced at £4.50, it was presented to me wrapped in mock newspaper; the thick, waxy substrate adding a touch of quality not usually found at a provincial football ground. Peeling away the stories of a defiant, wartime monarchy, I was greeted by a not-insubstantial sandwich. The precisely-sliced bun was tall and soft, ideal for housing the classic burger filling triumvirate. The subtly-seasoned beef patty was succulent and perfectly-seared, complemented nicely by the firm texture of thickly-carved bacon rashers; all topped off by a layer of golden, melted cheddar. Sinking my teeth into this beautiful creation, reality very much lived up to expectation.
The match that afternoon will be soon-forgotten, but I’ll always treasure my memories of a speciality burger. Ashley Fenyn