New 'Big Shiny' Almost Famous Opens

Confidentials 29 November 2013

ALMOST Famous was laid low in Manchester by a fire in June this year. It thrives in Liverpool through typically adept marketing and genuinely good nosh.

Now it's back in Manchester, and much, much bigger.

I've got some very confused door staff right now. Is there any code at all, they asked me. Yes I said, and told them not to let gingers in."

On Thursday 28 November at 5pm a new "big, shiny" Almost Famous opens its doors for a launch event "to which everyone is invited", says boss Beau Myers.

The location is just off Peter Street, the former home of Relish Bar in the Great Northern. Relish was a 2-4-1 fighting den for n'er-do-wells, which lived up to its name perfectly. People used to relish leaving.

"The new place is bigger than anything we've done," says Myers. "Nothing like Relish of course. It's Almost Famous on acid, like a sick Disney wonderland of classic burger imagination gone feral."

Beau MyersMyers has a unique verbal style. He knocks you flat through an aggressive assault of adjectives mixed with engaging enthusiasm.

It's certainly been a journey for the entrepreneur over the last couple of years.

The Almost Famous burger idea was born on High Street in the Northern Quarter in early 2012.

It quickly became the nonpareil of underground marketing. It stated in big capital letters on its website: ‘NO PRESS NO PHOTOGRAPHY NO BLOGGERS NO BLAGGERS NO KETCHUP. EVERYTHING ELSE GOES.’ People were intrigued and then hooked.

Located up a staircase, unadvertised behind an unmarked door, it was the acme of indie chic.

Trend setters and smug types were proud to say: "Yeah, just been to Almost Famous. Best burgers in the land. What, you've never been there? Don't know where it is? Jeez, mate, get out more."

Here's our review.

Very soon after opening, Almost Famous had people queuing down the street and round the corner. It became legend, loved and occasionally loathed. In Manchester it started a burger earthquake, the aftershocks of which are still reverberating.

Almost Famous' point of difference was the food quality. Behind all the cheeky marketing of sexy girls covered in sauce, pouting, tossing their hair and licking their fingers while mouthing the word 'dirty' it was the excellent burgers that won people over.

The delivery of good product has always been the key with Almost Famous and its offshoots such as Love, Lust, Liquor and Burn and Home Sweet Home in the Northern Quarter. Earlier Socio Rehab had performed the same trick but with cocktails.

Almost Famous' burgers certainly made Byron's food, the London trend-setter, when it arrived in Manchester, look meagre and pale. Thin. Dull.

Then in June this year Almost Famous went up in flames.

"It nearly finished us," says Myers. "We were very close to going under. This will sound cheesy but I wanted to keep the Almost Famous family together, so that meant a lot of overhead while we got Liverpool going. We can't wait to get cash through the till at the new Almost Famous in the Great Northern. Guess what as well?"

"Go on," I say.

"Our fire suppression systems are the best around," Myers says.

I can't tell if he's joking. Myers can bewilder with his sudden changes from mad to sane.

Dirty Girl, Dirty Burgers

"So given all those 'dirty' girls, the rude words on Twitter, is the marketing going to be as extreme for Almost Famous in the Great Northern?" I ask. "It is, after all, a much more corporate chain bar space."

"We will be reining in the marketing yes, it's time to be a bit more shiny, nicer," concedes Myers.

At which point he hands me some golden wristbands (very Willy Wonka) which state 'I'm fucking famous again'.

Rude wristbands

"Eh? Is this what you meant by reining it in?" I say.

Myers stares at the wristbands.

"Ah...yes those. Well we are going to be a bit calmer but we're still going to be us. In fact the new place is very homespun and DIY. We're not going to spin out twenty replicant units in the next twenty months.

"We'll be different in our door policy too," continues Myers. "In fact I've got the heads of the door staff spinning. Let anybody in, this is a burger bar not fine dining, I told them. Jeans, trainers, baseball caps, even, for God's sake, reversed baseball caps.

"They looked disappointed. Is there any real door policy at all they begged me. Yes, I said, don't let gingers in."

Myers pauses, "I'm going to have to have a word about that, aren't I? In case they believed me."

"So how many people can dine at the new Almost Famous?" I say.

"Hundreds," says Myers.

"Can you be a bit more specific?" I ask.

"No. Two hundred. Maybe. Should know that I suppose," he says with a coy grin.

"Opening times?"

"We'll be open noon to 11pm everyday for food. We have a 4am licence for drink but we're probably only going to be using that when we get the upstairs cocktail bar up and running after Christmas."

"And what does the interior look like?" I say.

"We have some mice involved, and a prominent street artist, but you'll have to wait until Thursday to find out."

I look at the pictures he's forwarded me on my phone. Cute. As Myers said at the start of the interview, 'sick Disney' as a theme.

Mice will run amok

"And what's the idea behind the democratic launch event on Thursday?" I ask.

"Said it before, we're a burger bar, non-exclusive," says Myers, before looking over my shoulder into a dreamy middle-distance. "In a way I'm coming back to where I started out."

"What do you mean?" I say.

"I began all this behind the bar ten years ago at Life Cafe just over the road on Peter Street from the new 'Big Shiny' Almost Famous. Tim Bacon of Living Ventures was also working with me back then."

"Wonder what happened to him?" I say, thinking how Myers with his mini-empire is the Frankenstein brother of Bacon with the latter's slick Australasia, Manchester House, Grills, Alchemists.

"Fuck knows," says Myers with a smile. "One day he might do something."

Almost Famous opens on Thursday 28 November, 10-12 Great Northern Warehouse, Deansgate, Manchester, M3 4EJ. Everyone is invited.