I am hanging out with my friend Pascalle at a café, drinking a latte, getting some work done, and, most importantly, trying to forget that today is Valentine’s Day. I am not going to lie: I feel like crap on this joyous day. In the last 24 hours a giant rat bit me on the toe and a girl pulled my heart out of my chest and fed it to the dogs. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I am not exactly sharing in the amorous spirit of St. Valentine.
Pascalle raises her eyes from her smartphone, and asks me if I would like to have dinner at this new place on Norodom. A place that goes by the name of myBurgerLab. Her mischievous look tells me she is up to something.
One hour later, we are entering through the glass door of the restaurant and into the huge warehouse-like room. Hundreds of Post-Its with comments from customers, graffiti of a burger-making contraption, and a bare red brick wall let us know that this is a hip place. The restaurant is full to the brim and the hum of several dozen voices fills the space: the perfect place for a couple of Valentine-less people to disappear into the crowd and become invisible.
To my surprise, Pascalle heads directly towards a table full of barangs. I fail to recognise anyone. Pascalle doesn’t know them either, apparently, because she starts introducing herself. “This is my friend Adolfo,” she announces to the group, “He’s not on Tinder, but he will join us tonight anyway.”
Tinder? My blood curdles when I hear the name. Suddenly, it dawns on me: my friend has tricked me into coming to a multiple blind Tinder date. And I’ve fallen right into the trap. This beats being bitten by a rat.
To get a respite from the awkwardness, I drag Pascalle to the counter. There are about 10 different hamburgers on the menu, each one with its own intriguing name and even more intriguing description. All of them are in the $4.5-$7 price range. Beef, pork and chicken are the meat options.
While standing in line, the manager confides to me that there is a secret menu, one that only the most faithful costumers know about. He recommends that I order a Jammin’ Elvis ($5), one of the items in the unofficial menu. I also get a basket of french fries ($3) and a coke ($2 with free refills).
After 15 minutes, the waitress calls out our number and I go to collect the food. The Jammin’ Elvis is ridiculously delicious. Peanut butter, strawberry jam and caramelised onion over a patty of beef. It sounds nasty. It looks nasty. And I love it. It’s like the cook knew I was coming and decided to sandwich all my favorite things between two black buns. I let some of the people around the table take a bite and they all completely disagree with my opinion. They all think the hamburger is disgusting. But, hey, this is my review, so don’t listen to them.
The french fries are amazing: long, thick strips of potato, fried and seasoned to perfection. I also get to try the hamburger of one of the girls. The A+ ($5), with cheddar cheese, caramelised onion and shitake mushrooms, is also a delightful and original take on the classic hamburger.
I love the hamburgers at myBurgerLab. The meat patties are tender and juicy, and the recipes are very creative. On the negative side, I’d point out that the hamburgers are quite small for the price. There are multiple places in Phnom Penh where, for the same price, you can get hamburgers of similar quality but of much larger size.
As I devour the french fries and chat with my unexpected dining companions, I realise that I am already feeling a lot better. I still have a wrecked heart, and my foot is still wrapped in a bandage and missing a nail. However, a feeling of connectedness has taken over me. Perhaps, it is because I can sense that everyone on the table has been hurt in the same place that I have, and I am not talking about the foot.
myBurgerLab, #160BEO, Norodom Blvd.