This burger was the closest I’ll ever get
to seeing Queen live in concert. It was
huge, it was dramatic, it filled the room
with its presence. With Steven as its
puppeteer, this behemoth walked tall,
but it tasted mighty dandy too. It saw me
before I’d even crossed Grant Avenue.

was invited to the Hamburger Party, and
well they stole the show with the R200
Triple Massive. There inside lay three
fried eggs, 3 x 300g home-made juicy
patties, red fresh tomato, gherkins and
shreds of lettuce, thin, tender striplets of
macon, pickles and onions. It was bursting
with flavour. The burger was explosive, a
slush puppy-filled rollercoaster for my
tastebuds. Presentation was immaculate,
with a side order of gangnam style chilli
sauce – sweet and tangy, a sauce to launch
rockets, and two other chilli flavours on
the upper scale of the heat spectrum.

The meat is one hundred percent
mehadrin and even a leather clad biker
would have scoffed this dirty meal.
The gripability factor cannot be included,
considering its heavy weight and size.

The bun, freshly baked, wasn’t
overwhelming; not too doughy, but soft
and kind of supportive. Tim Noakes would
have been proud at the reasonably low carb
content. The beer batter onion hoola hoops
took me back to lumo-coloured fun, they
were tasty and not too doughy. The fried
onions, sweet and crispy, just right. Those
skinny fries just don’t hold my attention.
Stephen, so damn proud of his creation,
blurts, “Competition is good, but it’s
lekker to eat it.”

RTG decor, a real roadside diner,
reminiscent of the chrome-plated fender
of a Chevy, is intriguinly familiar.
The burger wasn’t saucy, but it was
helluva juicy, fresh as a freshly plucked
plum. At 200 bucks for the experience, you
save your pocket money, but I’d share it.
I sweated and I got dirty; that’s comfort,
that’s a great burger.