Just a burger? That cliché, if literally true, will now seem less a JAB at than an absurdity to the carnivorous assembled who, seated on both sides of the long BurgerMonday table, watched the Hawksmoor servers set down those fat-glistening chopped steaks posed in split domes of sesame-seeded brioche.

Here was a optimally proportioned burger that transformed the dirty business of mincing and blending meat cuts into a culinary craft. Here was an implosive two-hander that spoke forcefully, even with Ogle Shield or Stichelton cheese and streaky bacon as distractions, for the deep, complex, almost gamy flavour of Longhorn beef.

Just a burger? Sorry, I don’t think so.