Is the Diplomat the Best Burger in Hong Kong?

There was one name that kept popping up over and over when I kept searching online for the best burger in Hong Kong – and it wasn’t from a traditional burger and fry joint like Five Guys or Burger Circus. There was something hypnotizing about it and the name burrowed deep into my brain, like that squid-like creature baby in Holly’s stomach in the movie Prometheus after she made love with the dude who was infected by the “black goo.”

I suffered many late nights trying to piece together if it could be true, like a 33-year-old chubby, balding male Carrie Matheson from Homeland with three yards of string, several packs of Post-it notes, and a whiteboard. I was Ace Ventura in the shower trying to figure out who police lieutenant Einhorn really was after sharing a passionate makeout right before the eureka moment when he realized she was disgraced Miami Dolphins place kicker ‘Ray Finkle’ post-sex change. “Finkle is Einhorn, Einhorn is Finkle.” In the deep throes of befuddlement, I muttered to myself “Burgers at speakeasies, speakeasies and burgers?”

My burger world was thrown upside down. I knew that I was going to have to test this for myself to make sure that this wasn’t some Truman Show-esque experiment orchestrated by Ed Harris to provide 24/7 entertainment to home viewers at my expense. So, post-Tuesday night workout, I grabbed my finest Pure tote bag and a raggedy old black sweatshirt that I cleaned BBQ sauce stains off of earlier in the day and headed to The Diplomat in H Code. 

It was time to settle this literal and metaphorical burger beef once and for all. 

Getting to The Diplomat: It’s Time to Meet Your Beef Maker

Website, Address, & Details: http://thediplomat.hk 

• Address: Shop 1, LG/F, H Code, 45 Pottinger St, Central
• Price: $$

I’m not sure why I became extremely disoriented when trying to figure out how to get to The Diplomat considering I threw up in the alley right next to it several years ago. Don’t ask. But go ahead if you want and I’ll respond in the comments. 

H Code is technically on Pottinger Street but The Diplomat is most easily accessed via the little side alley ‘Tun Wo Lane’ demarcated by Cookie DPT to your right and FOCO building (also to your right). 27 Kebab House is also a great indicator that you are headed in the right direction, which sits nearly opposite to the alley.

Continue straight down and you’ll see a classy-looking, wraparound glass-window restaurant, and cocktail bar, on the ground floor. For some reason, I thought I wouldn’t be able to find it but its aura exuded such elegance and warmth that I knew I was in the right place. It was like an inviting gingerbread house for adults, and I was Hansel, ready to be fattened with cow, cheese, and cocktail. 

I was instantly put in a holly jolly spirit as I walked in and was greeted by a small decorated Christmas tree and an illuminated bar packed with staff in droopy Santa hats. The Diplomat’s interior is compact yet economizes space well, geared towards both solo drinkers (and diners) and small groups, which ultimately sees a congregation of regulars at the bar as the night progresses. At closing time, The Diplomat even hands out homemade chocolate chip cookies to customers like Oprah handing out humpback whales. 

“You get a humpback whale! You get a humpback whale! Everybody gets a humpback whale!”

I snagged a small table tucked in the corner and squeezed these hips that don’t lie through a narrow gap separating it from the table adjacent. It was off to the races.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: If you’re looking for a robust, meaty list of contenders with The Diplomat, make sure to check out my post ‘The Beefiest, Most Bodacious Burgers in Hong Kong‘.

The Total Damage For Beef & Beverage Excellence

For a Tuesday night, I may have leaned into the night a bit more than I was initially expecting. This is (a) attributed to the fantastic food and cocktails and (b) two friendly, gregarious guys my age sitting next to me who had a great conversation and made me forget I was there by myself. In total, I ordered the: 

1. The Diplomat Burger, 
2. Pomme Frites (that’s just a fancy name for french fries), 
3. Louisiana fried chicken sandwich, 
4. Blinker Highball, and 
5. Old Fashioned with Evan Williams Bourbon.

The total came to HK$732, including a 10% service charge. 

Price-wise, I was expecting to pay far more than this. I (essentially) had two meals (the french fry basket was cavernous) and got a nice little buzz on, for just under USD 94. In Hong Kong, that’s a steal. For the quality, amount, and creativity behind it all – this is a very fair number and passes my completely arbitrary “overpriced Western garbage test” with flying colors. 

Beef is When You Make Your Enemies Start Your Jeep

Keep in mind that I ordered the burger sans-burger sauce as it has mayo (my kryptonite – but not like Big Boi on Got Purp? Vol. 2’s kryptonite – more like Superman’s kryptonite).

Let’s first address what I think is the primary gripe about this burger that I’ve read online and had friends mention to me. It’s pretty damn small. Even though it’s a quarter-pounder, it feels significantly smaller. This is not a Five Guys brick-sized burger with more customizable options than a Build-A-Bear workshop, 2500-plus calories, and an accompanying electronic blood sugar monitor served as a side. The Diplomat’s burger is deliberate and frankly, preferable to the dried-out cow patties with more girth than a Chipotle burrito that you find in more than a handful of Hong Kong burger haunts.

The margin of error is just too high when it comes to serving a huge burger that retains all its juice and doesn’t end up like an ECHL hockey puck. The strike point for achieving a perfect medium rare burger is often royally fumbled (globally) with overestimating how long to cook it (or not cook it), resulting in a dehydrated, crumbly, bland burger that your uncle excels in every yearly family BBQ when he commandeers the grill. 

A small burger is A-OK with me – as long as it’s done right. I prefer to eat my burgers in pairs or triplets (depending on just how small they are). I zest for a bun that doesn’t have me wondering where the burger ran off to and questioning why 90% of my meal is a soggy bun with an unsalted, unripe tomato the size of a frisbee.

The Diplomat uses a small sesame seed bun that wraps around the beef patty like a medium-sized sleeping bag around a husky Boy Scout at his first summer camp – it’s snug. It felt a bit like a banh mi when I first picked up the burger and took a bite as the sesame seeds ‘flaked’ all over me. I took this as a right of passage, like a young Maasai warrior on my first lion hunt. However, the flaking of the sesame seeds isn’t a bad thing. 

For a burger that prioritizes doing the basics (I’m not a fancy burger guy – just give me meat, cheese, and a bun and call it a day) and doing them exceptionally, every element is intentional. There’s no room for bullsh!ttery. The sesame seed bun is intentional, providing a slight textural contrast (and nutty flavor) to the otherwise melty, tender interior.

The only major note I’d make about the temperature of the burger is that I think it actually sat a bit between medium and medium-rare rather than an assertive medium-rare. There was still pink but I did notice a slight encroaching brown in the center. Juice-wise, it didn’t seem like this led to any outpouring and I was pleasantly surprised on the first bite to be reminded of a steamed cheeseburger I had in Connecticut (steamed burgers in Connecticut are a staple and really seal in an explosion of moisture) on a dejected drive back from Foxwoods Resort and Casino. 

The point is, it was one juicy burger. And not like those ‘Juicy’ pants that make you cringe when a benzo’ed up New England mom in her fifties wears while sipping afternoon martinis because she’s “the cool mom.”

Locking in the juices (even more) was a slice of melted cheddar cheese, which acted as a sharp and creamy coating to complement the savory beefiness of the patty. The gooey consistency spilled off the burger like an unsuspecting Instagram-snapping tourist at Victoria Falls and bestowed a further depth to the burger – taking it from “just a cheeseburger” to “wow, what an effing cheeseburger.” Game, blouses.

Pale Ale Travel Note: One of my favorite things about TimeOut’s write-up of ‘The Diplomat’ and its burger was that it was written by a vegetarian who consulted with other members of the team to declare it one of the best burgers in Hong Kong. 

Dirty South Comfort Food in Hong Kong

“Dirty South” isn’t used in a pejorative way. It’s used to endearingly refer to the Southern states of the United States and a distinct sound of regional rap and hip hop that originated in the 1980s. There’s an inherent warmness and heartiness to its cuisine, something I find is tough to replicate (and rarely replicated) in Hong Kong. 

At the recommendation of the two gentlemen next to me, I knew I had to try it as I was still looking to fill out the waistline of my newly acquired sweatpants a bit more. 

It’s crunchy, it’s juicy, it’s tender, it’s cluckin’ delicious. We’re working with a buttermilk-soaked and/or dredged chicken here, which breaks down the chicken protein structures and creates a sinfully juicy and tender interior, all while ensuring an even coating of flour that fries (not flies) across the bird. 

The bold, slightly floral, and acidic taste of the red cabbage and sweet pickle worked in tandem to level out any heat from a dollop of hot sauce nestled on the bottom bun (of the same sesame bun used for the burger). Red cabbage ‘slaw’ on chicken sandwiches seems to habitually overwhelm and mask the quality and precision of the fried chicken – but this was far from the case here.

It should be no surprise by now that The Diplomat takes the fundamentals of classics and perfects them. I can confidently state that this is the best fried chicken sandwich I’ve had in Hong Kong – and that’s coming from a long-time devotee of Honky Tonks Tavern.

A Basket of Fries so Deep, It Inspired Mumford & Sons ‘The Cave’

The Diplomat must have been tipped off before I came as nearly every single item served was in the form that I prefer. While I do appreciate a nice thick cut or waffle fry, I’m still a man shaped by thin strips of crunchy, golden potatoes that border on shoestrings. These fell somewhere in between shoestring fries and standard-cut. 

This cavernous basket of fries was the first thing presented before me and it set the tone of the meal on the right path. The Diplomat uses Irish potatoes for their french fries, which typically boast a slightly sweeter and more delicate profile than Yukon Gold or Russets. In the best way possible, they reminded me of a McDonald’s french fry – but elevated. There was a distinguishable snap and crisp on the outside, which contrasted nicely with the delicate fluffy interior (McDonald’s fries often cross that threshold into pure mush). 

The natural sweetness of the Irish potato was brought out further by the homemade ketchup, something you don’t realize you need until you actually have it. Years of Heinz conditioning and brainwashing had me unsure of what real ketchup was even supposed to taste like. This is it. There’s no artificially sweet assault on the senses. There’s balance. There’s a tang only achieved by attention to detail and scientific measurement that causes the taste buds to gracefully oscillate between sweet and sour. 

Next time, I might snag a few scoops and bottle it, just to use some in my hair to make it stand up and replace the sad little Heinz ketchup packets McDonald’s tosses in the bag by the handful. Less is more when it comes to ketchup. And when it’s homemade, you really only need polonium-sized doses to achieve the desired effect.

Finally, I’d like to mention several other dishes that caught my eye and I’ll be back to test: The Diplomat’s truffle mac and cheese and Cubano. 

Cocktails That Don’t Disappoint

Cocktail-wise, I’m still figuring out what I like in life. In the grand scheme of human history, it wasn’t that long ago when I was drinking wine out of a bag and scratching keyholes into Natty Light thirty racks to shotgun them with the boyz. Hoorah. Anytime someone asks me my favorite wine pairing with ‘X food’, it all just boils down to me nervously blurting out ‘white’ or ‘red’ (or ‘whed’ if I forget how to speak like a real human). 

Like Batman responding to Commissioner Gordon’s flashing of the bat signal, The Diplomat answered my call in a gruff, assuring liquid form, solidifying that this place is the real deal and worthy of all its previously garnered accolades. 

Don’t Blink Or You Might Miss It

I wasn’t even planning on drinking since it was a Tuesday night but post-workout, a raspberry rye highball (“The Blinker Highball”) sounded refreshing. It was. It was light, punchy, and balanced take on a classic drink (the “Blinker”) that always skews a bit too sour for me. I’m a big proponent of grapefruit juice for breakfast. It gets the taste buds moving for the day. 

However, I max out at one or two glasses, otherwise, I end up looking like Gwynplaine in Victor Hugo’s ‘The Man Who Laughs’ with the crazed facial expressions that involuntarily develop due to its intense acidity.   

The Diplomat uses a grapefruit soda which dilutes any overly tart notes that you might get with a traditional Blinker. Further, a celery ribbon garnish cuts through any remaining acidity with its vegetal freshness. The raspberry rye is ‘sous vide’ which really removes any sour kick you might get and gives off a taste more reminiscent of a sweet jam, providing further contrast to the slight tang of the grapefruit soda. 

The only problem with the Blinker Highball is that it’s too drinkable. I didn’t want to stop after just one. 

An Old Fashioned For the Newly Dismantled

The Old Fashioned has decisively become my ‘control cocktail’ to act like I have any clue what I’m talking about when it comes to the finer things in life. What’s about to spill out is still gibberish – just slightly refined gibberish.

The Diplomat’s Old Fashioned was heavy on the bourbon, which I prefer to the bars that seem to disproportionately infuse it with bitters that leave a lingering cinnamon-clovey aftertaste that never seems to truly subside. Like the time in high school when I thought I’d impress the ladies by spraying myself with a lavender body spray, which ultimately coated my skin and hands for a week and left everything that I ate tasting like synthetic lavender. 

Evan Williams is already on the sweeter, sugary side when it comes to bourbon, so letting its innate smoothness and honey drive the taste rather than extensive muddling with bitters and syrup and/or sugar was well received. 

This also results in a bit more of an alcoholic bite than you might be used to with some Old Fashioneds, so just know that a mild burn may be felt. I personally love it and feel like a cowboy at the saloon after a long day of wrangling cattle, chewing tobacco, and engaging in shootouts with the town outlaw Hairlip Charlie.

Pale Ale Travel Note: If you don’t want to gamble on an entire cocktail, The Diplomat offers up ‘mini cocktails’ that allow you to get a taste without the commitment. 

Is The Diplomat Behind the Best Burger in Hong Kong? 

Honestly, I’m not sure. I feel like that answer tethers me to a hill that I have to die on or exposes my true capricious wavering gastronomic state and internal constitution (once I find another burger haunt that gives me goosebumps). 

Is The Diplomat one of the best burgers I’ve ever eaten in Hong Kong? This is an emphatic yes. Do they make a perfectly cooked, medium-rare burger that will ooze juice, tingle the taste buds, and have you coming back for more (or ordering a second)? That’s another yes. Do they also follow it up with a fried chicken sandwich that will have you questioning if chicken is in fact better than beef? Yes again. 

The verdict – The Diplomat makes an effing mean, naughty beef burger that deserves to be in the conversation for the best burger in Hong Kong.

As for the chicken sandwich – this is the best fried chicken sandwich I’ve eaten in Hong Kong.

Like a South American crocodile, I can be as easily satisfied by the taste of a short-legged, shaggy haired capybara as I am the finest white-tailed deer. Sometimes, a double cheeseburger or two from Wacarnolds is all I want and need. However, sometimes a burger that isn’t dehydrated or drenched in excess calories, with a nice pinkish hue in the center, is necessary. Necessary to remember just what exactly a burger is capable of. Necessary to not end up on the television show My 600-lb Life with that lady who would have her boyfriend funnel her gallons of chocolate milk every morning with a homemade beer bong.

Let me know your favorite burger joint in Hong Kong and if you’ve been to The Diplomat before to try their burger or any cocktails! If so, I’d love to hear what your thoughts are and if you think it lived up to the hype. 

Eat and drink well everyone,

Big Body