Fire, not gas
Lump charcoal every service. It's slower, dirtier and more expensive, and the crust it gives you cannot be faked on a flat-top.
The first Bunhaus burger was cooked in 2014, on a charcoal grill borrowed from a neighbour, behind a hardware shop that closed at six. We had one patty size, one sauce, and a queue that kept getting longer than the licence allowed.
By the second winter the stall was turning people away, so we took the corner unit on Hallam Street and threw out almost everything — the tables, the menu, the supplier list. We kept the recipe and the grill. The grill is still in the back, scarred, slightly warped, and still the only thing the beef ever touches.
They cost us money most weeks. They are also the reason the queue is still there.
Lump charcoal every service. It's slower, dirtier and more expensive, and the crust it gives you cannot be faked on a flat-top.
Eight burgers, three sides, three drinks. If something new goes up, something else comes down. Nothing sits there out of politeness.
Whatever is left at close goes to the night shelter two streets over. Has done since the stall days, when "left over" meant four buns.
We built the dining room so you can see the grill from every table. It gets loud after nine, the lights go low, and the back room is yours if you book it out on a Sunday or Monday evening.
There's no dress code, no service charge and no music you have to shout over — at least until the Friday DJ starts at ten.
Book the back room
Twenty-six people on the rota. These four have been here longest.
Ran the stall grill in 2014 and has written every version of the board since.
Knows the name of roughly half the Friday queue, and all of the Tuesday one.
Responsible for the triple-cook, and for the fact nobody else is allowed near it.
Invented the burnt caramel shake by ruining a batch of caramel and tasting it anyway.
Walk in, take a seat at the pass, and watch the thing that has been keeping this place open for eleven years.