Some of the best burgers at this year’s Burger Wellington

KaiAugust 24, 2024

Reviewers’ picks: The best of the best from this year’s Burger Wellington

A bunch of people

Some of the best burgers at this year’s Burger Wellington

The overall top burgers from this year’s Burger Wellington, according to our panel of experts.

The finalists for this year’s Burger Wellington will be announced at the end of the month based on a public vote, and an official winner will be decided by a panel of judges. For now though, there are still a few days to sample this year’s creations. The Spinoff’s team of Wellington writers have been putting in the hard yards all month, exploring as many of this year’s entries as possible. These are their favourite burgers.

Graze: The Crackening, $35

Nick Iles

My favourite thing about great food is that the end product, the thing actually put in front of you on the plate, is potentially the least important thing about it all. My favourite thing is a restaurant that cares about provenance, understands how making our food networks as sustainable and localised as possible will only seek to benefit us all in the long run. What I am saying is that my favourite burger this year is The Crackening from Max Gordy and his wine bar Graze in Kelburn, a fish burger by name but something far more impressive in the flesh.

I love that the fish in this burger came from a couple of guys called Cole and Tom who spear-caught it the day before in the Cook Strait before it was smashed up and smoked in to a long patty, the skin crisped up into a fish skin crackling, or that the cheese melted over the top came from a small artisanal producer just outside Tauranga. Sitting in the small bar and knowing not only the journey of the fish and the cheese, but also that all the vegetables and herbs in the kimchi slaw and spicy cucumber pickle came from Birdsong Farms and Little Farms makes them more piquant, more vibrant. That the three potato sliders were made in-house using flour from Capital Millers make them fluffier and more wholesome.

My favourite thing about this burger is that it is probably the only burger in the whole field that could actually call itself Welly On A Plate. But this burger is not a lecture in ethics, it is a demonstration of how enjoyable and vibrant food is when the journey of every single element is taken into account – oh, and it’s really fucking delicious.

Hey Coastie: Cluckin’ Good Chilli Crisp, $33

Jan Otis

I had high expectations for this burger, and those expectations were blown out of the park. Just looking at the photo makes my mouth water. This is my type of burger – spicy, fresh, crunchy and juicy. You’ll be familiar with the flavours and ingredients but it is such a unique burger that you cannot compare it to anything right now.

The chicken thigh has a lot of flavour – it’s marinated in buttermilk and coated in Doritos but that meat packs a punch. The Rose’s chilli crisp adds just enough heat to open up your pores but not ruin you the next day. This is offset by the creole aioli which brings you back down to earth and cools you down. Those tater tots have to be the best side I’ve had in a long time – just imagine mashed potato bites with a crunchy exterior.

St. John’s Bar & Eatery: Lambtastic, $31

Zoë Mills

How often can you get a group to equally agree that a meal was a “banger” and “really, really good”? The Lambtastic burger from St Johns Bar & Eatery has got to be the best thing I’ve eaten in AGES.

The Lambtastic stars two types of lamb – a lamb patty and pieces of tandoori lamb, both moist and fantastically seasoned. The burger is really well balanced with a sweet mango chutney and a yoghurt sauce to cut through the heaviness of the lamb. My favourite elements of the burger were the onion bhaji and the accompanying dish of bhuja mix. St John’s Instagram told us to sprinkle the mix into the burger, and alongside the bhaji, added a much needed crunch. The burger itself was packed with flavour and stacked high, but was surprisingly light and easy to eat. “I feel like I could eat four of them”, remarked one of my friends.

The Bombay-spiced fries were equally as good as the burger. Crispy, really well seasoned and equally as thought out as the burger. To add to our fantastic experience, the service was quick, the interior was sophisticated, and the staff were warm and attentive. 10/10 would eat again.

The Interislander: Boaty Boatface, $23

Bryer Oden (@healthsensation)

I think more attention needs to be given to the only Burger Wellington burger that is in shipshape. And by that I mean, literally in the shape of a ship. The Interislander’s burger brought me a sense of joy I have not felt since receiving my chips in a wagon at Cobb & Co (alongside a traffic light with a plastic monkey on the side, of course). It taps into all of the good memories I have of travelling on the Interislander, such as my mum accidentally being locked in the gift shop during a routine safety drill.

The Interislander’s entry is a prime example of the brilliance of Burger Wellington, as it expertly walks the line of my favourite life philosophy, “same same but diff.” The burger is “same same” in that it maintains the integrity of a classic, humble burger, but “diff” enough by bringing a sense of whimsy and wonder by being served on New Zealand’s favourite ferry. As someone who is deeply serious about being silly and a little too nostalgic, the perfect execution of the theme “Play with Your Food” means I am all aboard.

The highlight of the whole burger for me was the sauce, which was so mysterious and delicious I forced them to give me the secret recipe, which I can exclusively reveal includes sour cream, coriander and jalapeños. The patty was beautifully chargrilled, the watercress was fresh and crisp, and as a bonus, a surprising quantity of chips were hidden within the hull of the ship. It also came with a tomato relish (of which I am not usually a fan) which has made me rethink my opinion on relish as a concept. All in all, this burger is a microcosm of how all Burger Wellington entries should be: interesting, well thought out, and delicious.

Ernesto’s Cocina Cubana: Censored Burger, $28

Preyanka Gothanayagi

I really didn’t want to like this burger. Ernesto’s was officially kicked out of this year’s competition due to its original name: “Pablo Escoburger”. Drug-themed food doesn’t appeal to me personally. But I wasn’t paying attention when a coworker booked us a table, which is how I wound up at the brightly lit and highly floral Ernesto’s Cocina Cubana.

The renamed “Censored Burger”, however, was exactly what I’d spent the last three weeks and thirteen burgers looking for. Every individual element shone, without being overwhelming – the absolute height of balance. A lush, juicy beef and brisket patty. A layer of spiced pulled pork, adding flavour and texture. The sweetness of the pineapple ring cutting straight through the savoury. The Kettle chips (no, really!) contributing a delightful, salty crunch. The soft fry bread bun that didn’t disintegrate amongst the fillings. I somehow even enjoyed the lettuce, which was fresh and crisp.

This burger was so interesting, with all its notes and harmonies. The gimmick – a little line of garlic powder and a fake rolled $100 note – felt on the nose, metaphorically and literally. Ernesto’s did rename, re-photograph, and re-market – but they could have done more, because it didn’t add much.

We had a collective moment of “Oh, I get it,”, maybe a quick laugh at best. Then we brushed it all aside to savour what was, almost begrudgingly, my favourite burger this festival.

Little Beer Quarter: Brewmasters of the Universe, $26

Matt Casey

‘Twas Wednesday, the day before yesterday, and I had just completed three days of excessive burger eating. In spite of a bruised wallet and a full stomach, I made the pilgrimage to the Golden Gnome Tavern (Little Beer Quarter). This burger was recommended by a mate on the grounds of “trust me”. The bar has been converted into a medieval, Dungeons and Dragons-esque tavern for the month and the burger was an incredibly beer-infused delight. Virtually every component incorporated some form of New Zealand craft beer.

The fig jam paired with the magical hot sauce complemented the staunchly large beef patty. The patty was so big I’d mistook it for a steak in the middle of the burger. I’d lost love for the taste of bacon after competing in the 2022 New Zealand Bacon Eating Championship, but the bacon on this burger was just right and complimented the other components which, to be frank, I can’t remember because even now I cannot get over the quality of the sauce pairing.

Some burgers stray far far away from what we traditionally understand a burger to be and try far too hard. This burger was unique and exciting while maintaining standard burger legitimacy.

The Featherston: It’s a Burger, Wellington, $26

Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin

The Featherston is offering a burger, Wellington, and not just any burger, a burger wellington. The theme this year is “play with your food” and for me I can’t help but feel as if the idea behind this chunky beast was more about how the chefs could play with this idea, rather than how customers could. I’ve seen other restaurants incorporate board games and knick knacks into their burger identities for this years festival but I appreciate this subtle difference (which I might be reading way too far into). I feel a sense of ease dissipate between me and the package of pastry. No one is trying to prove how fun they are because of this narrative in my noggin’.

This is not a hand-held burger invention, it is instead a slab of what looks like a burger that was put through a blender, encased in the signature pastry of a beef wellington. Accompanied by a serving of potato mash and gravy that be lathered onto the hunk I’ve cut.

The taste is surprising and is that of a classic, simple American cheeseburger. I don’t know what they’ve hidden where but it doesn’t taste how it looks. The presentation, cut in half with the cross-section pride of place above its mash mound, accentuates my feelings of this being something the cooks are proud of. In the days since I have caught myself thinking back to that evening. The burger in a wellington. A novelty in itself that I’ve come to consider my top pick of this year’s Burger Wellington.

Keep going!

James Tangitamaiti and Yanah Partsch, owners of Pepe’s Cafe. Image: Tina Tiller.

KaiAugust 21, 2024

The remarkable pie shop hidden in a Porirua industrial estate

Nick Iles

Guest writer

James Tangitamaiti and Yanah Partsch, owners of Pepe’s Cafe. Image: Tina Tiller.

Pāua, canned spaghetti, povi masima and taro: Pepe’s Cafe understands the nature of food as love and community.

Food is language. It is a complex tool of communication that we use to share information with one another. It is used to reassure, to teach and to love. Food, at its core, is identity. A way that we create and maintain community. Go to any major city and watch as diasporas converge in restaurants and cafes providing a taste of home and a sense of recognition in a foreign land. It is a means of showing love and reassurance; flavours learned at childhood have a resonance in adulthood that far outstrips anything encountered later on in life. For me, the taste of luncheon meat on white bread will always remind me of home and safety. Half a can of spaghetti on buttered toast is Sunday morning cartoons and my nan coming around to help my dad with ironing our school uniforms ready for Monday.

James Tangitamaiti and Yanah Partsch know all of this. They understand the nature of food as love and community more than anyone I have ever met. Luckily for all of us, they opened a little cafe in February of 2024 in an industrial estate on the edge of Porirua. I don’t share any Pacific heritage, but Pepe’s Cafe is probably about as close to the comfort of home as I have felt since moving to Aotearoa three years ago. It sells the best pies I have ever eaten in my life. Yanah and James are a couple that have their heritage in Samoa and the Cook Islands, but are Wellington born and bred and have deep family ties to Porirua. Both have lived rich lives that have led them up to this point. Yanah worked a series of corporate jobs and James was a serial entrepreneur; ask him about who invented the massage gun first and he will tell you unequivocally it was him, he even has his prototype in a lock up somewhere on the estate. What both of them understood from living and working in the community is that everyone was screaming out for “home food”. The kind of food they ate growing up that feels and tastes like home, safety and connection. They are unapologetic in what their mission is: they want to create a place for people to recognise their own identity and feel nourished. When a run-down cafe on the estate became available, they decided to do something about it.

James Tangitamaiti and Yanah Partsch, owners of Pepe’s Cafe in Porirua. Photo: Nick Iles

They say that there is an inverse relationship between the view you are afforded and the quality of the food you will eat. Those trattorias cut into the cliffs on Cinque Terre in northern Italy look out over the azure horizon, but serve warm white wine, pre packed sauces and bulk pasta. Meanwhile, those slice shops in New York looking out over the stacks of bins are so good that you’ll return four times in as many days to eat amongst the garbage. If this idea holds water, then I reckon Pepe’s cafe may be serving some of the best food in Aotearoa.

This isn’t to say the Thermo King warehouse opposite isn’t beautiful, it truly is. Although to be completely honest I don’t think I’ve ever looked out of the windows while I’m in the cafe. I’m far too busy watching as everyone bustles around politely trying to get to the pie cabinet, everyone praying there is still pāua available. I’m far too busy listening to the laughter that seems to be constantly rippling through the whole space, the daps and hugs of old friends who just so happened to bump into each other at Pepe’s Cafe. The whole community is there. Word has spread about what is going on inside this small cafe on the industrial estate in Kenepuru. James tells me they knew they were on to something serious, something good, when aunties would come in saying they had heard about it from their friend at church. High praise indeed and something certainly worth travelling for.

One of the reasons they are so busy, with people turning up at all times, is that kitchen operates through the day. This constant cooking comes not by design but, like all great things, by necessity. The site they have taken over is tiny, they simply don’t have the space or money to install professional bakers ovens and the equipment needed to bake en masse. Efficiency is everywhere in this little cafe. The beautiful counter they serve from was pieced together from all the palettes salvaged from around the estate in order to save money. The kitchen equipment too was salvaged to get them up and running, until the day they are ready for a refurb.

It is the pies people are coming for. The pies that are inspired by home, the meals they were cooked by parents and aunties growing up and want to cook again for others. Designed to be comfort and connection for those in a city dedicated to the food of everywhere else but Aotearoa and the Islands of the Pacific. All of their history and heritage, all of their love condensed down and encased in pastry.

Povi Masima and taro in coconut cream pie is a pie that is at once warming and kind and generous. It is a pie that speaks an international language, salty fatty cuts of brisket stewed until tender just like salt beef, but will unmistakably speak of home to those that know. It’s nestled amongst sweet taro root that has been cooked down until tender and sweet and plays folly to the meat before being coated in a coconut cream sauce. The coconut cream sauce bakes in the pie, taking on the texture of a thickened bechamel and making everything feel just so luxurious and decadent – the garlic bringing heat and sweetness in a way that garlic just can sometimes.

Povi Masima and taro in coconut cream pie from Pepe’s Cafe. Photo: Nick Iles

There is a pie that is filled with canned spaghetti, crumbled corned beef and topped off with a layer of mozzarella cheese. It is one of the classic Island family meals cooked out of necessity, what were once the affordable ingredients and cheaper cuts sent out to the Islands now become luxurious and packed with nostalgia. It is almost perfect. Yanah has noticed that it is the pākehā customers that seem to have the biggest affinity with this pie, it turns out the international symbol of comfort and safety is canned spaghetti and cheese.

Canned spaghetti, crumbled corned beef and mozzarella pie from Pepe’s Cafe. Photo: Nick Iles

But of a cabinet full of pies that are all vying for the title of best in the country, the creamed pāua pie sits out in front of all of them. It would not be hyperbolic to describe this pie as an architectural masterpiece, a feat of engineering that will be studied in years to come. That sweet pāua bound in a rich cream sauce specked with onion and cheese and holding itself up against the laws of physics. Pāua is such a delicacy and they care about it deeply – they understand that it can so often be lost in an overbearing sauce that reduces it to a bit part player. Not here – it is a pāua pie. It tells a story of the deep ocean that surrounds us. It is not an uncommon sight to see people sitting outside Pepe’s in their cars, eating the fresh pāua pies before walking right back in to buy another one.

Creamed pāua pie from Pepe’s Cafe. Photo: Nick Iles.

There aren’t many other spots in Wellington right now selling cream pāua pies, boil up pies or pies with spaghetti and corned beef in. Yanah and James know it is what the community has been crying out for, they know they are needed and that they are doing something important. They understand that food is language, and that the quickest way for a language to disappear is for it to stop being used. Whilst you may have to drive through town and out to the very eastern edge of the Kenepuru industrial estate to get there, Pepe’s Cafe isn’t on the edge of anything. It is right at the very beating heart of the vibrant Pacific community in Porirua. It is run by two people who have community at the very centre of everything they do. Yanah and James have found their voice and they are using it to make sure that everyone feels connected, cared for and loved.