Even Gourmands Slip Up

Those of you who read my journal regularly know that I am all about the finest travel and food experiences. It will no doubt come as a shock that I have chosen to write about a recent misadventure, one that fills me with dread and woe, falling far outside of my usual high end parameters.

On a recent evening in Sydney after a long International flight, my stomach was grumbling and I needed some sustenance to push me through the night. I love a good serve of carbs a few hours before lights off, somehow that helps me to get the hours of deep sleep I need. This night in question, I wandered to an authentic Italian trattoria where they make their own gnocchi daily. I ordered my favourite choice from a previous visit, soft light pillows, not dense, not too filling, with house made pesto.

It hit the spot, but somehow my tummy told me that it was hardly satisfied. Perhaps I needed a protein hit, I thought. I decided not to order more from the restaurant as my budget was limited after my trip and I didn't want to add another $30+ or so to my bill. I also felt my carb intake was sufficient for my night of ZZZ’s ahead.

I just needed something small, nothing fussy, just enough to get me to that "80% full" spot where I feel most comfortable. Vast amounts of cheap eats surrounded me, mostly Asian cuisine however, which would not have worked after my bowl of gnocchi.

On the corner prior to the right turn towards my hotel was a simple option that I could take, admittedly though, something I rarely ever choose. No one was watching (I hoped) and I knew I could get this over with super fast. I walked into an Oporto.

(stock image) You don’t see any flames at Oporto

For those of you unfamiliar with these “restaurants”, they are based on the Portuguese “idea” of peri-peri chicken and specialise in takeaway chicken, burgers and wraps. You heard right. A fast-food joint. Yes, I promise this is Mr. R writing this. Please stay with me. Why did I make this completely out of character choice? Well, apart from the food would simply fill that hunger hole I oddly had that evening, it would also be quick and inexpensive. The last time I ate anything from Oporto was at least ten years ago, I was drinking a lot more back then and I was probably a little hammered. I knew prices today would be significantly higher, though I expected that mass produced fast food such as what Oporto offers would have some consistency.

Oddly, this Oporto was empty, but I put that down to a pattern I see everywhere. It looks like fast food chains are struggling, no longer the go to choice for many (thankfully) as people are far more health conscious and many know that they are not the cheapest option anymore. I stuck to what I remembered from all those years ago and decided on their classic Bondi Burger (the chain began at Sydney's iconic beach back in 1986), which they claim is made in the same way as when they opened and spread all over Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Vietnam and Dubai. 200 stores in total.

The Bondi Burger is one menu item that Oporto has built its reputation on. It's all about flame-grilled Portuguese style chicken, from RSPCA approved local farms. Certainly, keeping up with what is expected from today’s generation of diners, it would seem.

Actual Bondi Burger. Just not the one I received.

Fully aware that the photos of the food items are inaccurate, looking juicily delicious and inflated in size, I knew I should expect something significantly smaller. I decided to spend an extra couple of dollars and get the Double Bondi Burger, which is basically the addition of another flame-grilled chicken fillet.

Having a health conscious moment during the shame of ordering, I also added some avocado (good fats) - another couple of bucks. Oddly, the extra cost of adding avocado has not adjusted from a decade ago. An entire avocado at the supermarket costs two dollars and has for some time. In joints such as this, a spread of it is still factored as an expensive, luxe add-on.  

I waited patiently for my order (which took under 3 minutes) before briskly walking to my hotel, trying to conceal the small paper bag which held the incredibly light contents from prying, judging eyes.

Unveiling the burger on my hotel room desk, removing it from simple plastic wrapped paper, I wondered why there was no smell of juicy chicken hot off the grill. No aromas at all really. Now, unfortunately, I did not take any photos of my part two dinner selection. Probably a good thing, as it would have been the single worst food item I have ever photographed. My i-phone may have exploded as well.

The only thing that didn't shock me was that the burger was smaller than I expected. The horror began when I took hold of it. The first lift towards my mouth was the beginning of the nightmare to follow. The milk bun, as it's so called, quickly began to disintegrate in my hands. I had to hold it tight and squeeze the ends towards each other to prevent it from breaking apart. If I tried to eat it with one hand it would have split in two, like the Titanic. Ridiculous size comparison, I know.

Only after I had taken a couple of bites did I begin to dissect exactly what this thing was that I was attempting to eat. The listed components of this famous Double Bondi Burger are: two chicken fillet patties, lettuce, cheese, mayo and chilli sauce (thus Peri-Peri– voila!). Simple really. Plus, the extra avocado as fore-mentioned. Let’s not forget that.

Chicken running away from the Oporto shop assistants

Squeezing it tight, already cracked in several places, the self-destructing bun tasted of nothing. Just a floury, sweet mess that's sole purpose was to encase the interior ingredients of equally dubious quality. To the main event of the burger, the chicken had no sign of being flame grilled, pale and insipid and flat like something that had been squashed on the road by an Uber Eats bicycle. Each “fillet “was around half a centimetre thick. The two fillets combined would make up less than one in a regular burger from a reputable restaurant.

The taste - again, almost nothing. I shut my eyes, hoping I would see a happy chicken from an ethical farm blissfully unaware it would soon be a flat round disc of its own dried out burnt flesh, but I wasn't seeing a chicken. I was seeing the cardboard packaging that houses a burger from somewhere far superior. Somewhere I wished I was.

I struggled to see the other ingredients whatsoever. The lettuce strips were minimal and soggy, stuck to the bottom of the bun. The mayo had disappeared into the bun if there was ever any there at all. I looked for the cheese. It was not at all visible to the naked eye. The only flavour at all was some heat of sorts from the bland chilli sauce.

Then to top it all off, I had to search for the avocado. What I found was a slimy pool of greenish, brown paste. Not fresh avocado, but something that sits in a plastic tub on the kitchen counter and in one swoop is flicked across the bun.

This did have a taste, of sorts, somewhat metallic, it was what I imagine licking a sewer would be like. After that I called it quits. I ate less than half of this abomination, utterly appalled that this could be served to anyone. Any resemblance to the original Bondi Burger of years back was gone. This was a combination of shrinkflation in both overall size, quantity and quality of ingredients. I really question the ethically raised chicken Oporto say they use. Ethically raised cardboard, perhaps?

No matter my hunger pangs, I will never, ever go near a fast-food joint again (except maybe in Japan, but that’s another story.) The irony is that the cost of the burger that night was AUD$14.20. A real burger with fresh ingredients that you can see, and taste can be had for around an extra $5 in Australia. Far less in some other countries. And don’t even start me once again on that extra $2 for the avocado sludge. So, I sincerely apologise for making such a foolish mistake. No doubt the jet lag didn't help, but that is no excuse. Future articles will be only within my regular domain, the finest food and travel discoveries. This slip up was a one-off embarrassment, never to be repeated.

Happy customer eating somewhere else.

Perhaps the only good thing to come of this regretful experience, was that Oporto was empty. I saw only one other person there the next time I passed by, at peak lunch time. Yet somehow, their stores across the country remain open. If my horrible experience was exceptional and only related to that one outlet, I will never know. As I will never have the opportunity to test that. This will leave my memory and go down in the annals as the single worst burger I’ve ever had.