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Byron was, in many ways, a modern burger pioneer. Sure, GBK may have opened in 2001, with its ‘gourmet’ creations. But I was never a fan, finding them dull and oversized. And yes, before that, there was always Tootsies (a childhood favourite) and the Hard Rock Cafe (once thrillingly exotic, now plain sullen). But when Byron was opened by restaurateur Tom Byng way back in 2007, they did things rather differently. Inspired by the classic American cheeseburger found at the likes of New York’s Corner Bistro, this was all about good ingredients and pared-back simplicity. No baroque, overstuffed comedy creations here, rather top-quality British beef patties, cooked pink, then slipped into soft, toasted buns, with fresh tomato, lettuce, onion and proper plastic cheese.

‘There’s no juice or joy’: a Byron cheeseburger

Hardly reinventing the wheel, but god they were good: held in one hand and devoured in three bites as the juices surged down your chin. Where they led, dozens followed. MeatLiquor (then operating out of a truck in a Peckham pub car park, and known as MeatWagon) came a year later with their iconic Dead Hippie, followed by Honest, Bleeker, Patty & Bun, Black Bear, Five Guys and a never-ending surge of those damned smashburgers. Anyway, Byron grew fast before being sold to some private equity group, who wanted rapid expansion. No surprises there. At its peak, the chain had 67 branches across the land. But as so often happens, corners were cut, standards dropped and in 2020, during Covid, they went into administration.

Now, there are just six outlets left, and I’ve lost track of who owns what. The South Kensington branch is clean, but only a quarter full on this Tuesday lunchtime. Still, the service is warm and Coca-Cola cold. Burgers, though, are no longer cooked medium, just well done – and they can’t, for once, blame council regulations. Honest Burgers, a few doors down, still does them pinkly medium. After a 20-minute wait, I’m greeted by a thick, dry patty wedged into a thick, dry untoasted bun. There’s no succulence or succour, no juice or joy, just an excess of ketchup and malaise. After a few dyspeptic bites, I give up. The meat may well be decent quality but cooked this long, the flavour has long since passed. Fries are distinctly average, while the less said about the poutine, the better. What was once a pioneer is now an also-ran. Byron has gone the way of all flesh.

About £20 a head. Byron, 93-95 Old Brompton Rd, London SW7; byron.co.uk