Mouse Burger w Squeaky Fries: Food Adventure with a Celebrity Chef

🐭 Mouse Burger with Squeaky Fries - A Celebrity Chef Story

A Mouse Burger is a food adventure, right? Now and then, I stumble across one of my old food adventures and just have to bring it back to life.

This one involves a brilliant (and slightly mischievous, eccentric, dastardly evil, if not completely lovable) celebrity chef, and a wild culinary experiment. Plus a burger you'll never forget.

Originally written years ago, this story disappeared when my old website was sold - but it's far too good to stay buried. So, for your amusement (and mild horror), here's the tale of the Mouse Burger with Squeaky Fries…

The Invitation That Started It All

When Chef Joel McCulla formerly of Zulu's Restaurant, invited me to join him whilst he created a new dish, I felt an instant cocktail of emotions - equal parts honour, excitement, curiosity, and dare I say, a dash of pure terror. Joel's a brilliant chef, no doubt, but he also has that gleam in his eye that makes you wonder if he's about to plate up dinner… or stage a mad-scientist experiment.

I met Joel during the judging of the North Coast Signature Dish Awards. He had entered a dish that seemed to have been conjured by Heston Blumenthal and was molecular gastronomy at its best! Nothing was as it appeared, it was theatre at its best.

Obviously, I said yes without a second thought. Dining is always an adventure with Joel, aka Heston McCulla. The dish's name - "Mouse Burger with Squeaky Fries" - I barely registered what this could mean in my enthusiasm to accept. I imagined something cute and gimmicky, maybe a slider shaped like a cartoon mouse? Adorable! But when I later discovered that this burger was literally made from mice… let's just say my inner brave Zimmern of "Bizarre Foods" collided with my outer "Are-you-actually-serious?" face.

The Mouse Burger Kitchen

When I arrived in Joel's kitchen, the aroma was heavenly - sizzling butter, caramelising onions, herbs mingling with stock - all perfectly ordinary signs of culinary brilliance. My nerves eased a little… until Joel casually mentioned the stock was made from "five mouse carcasses."

Let's be honest - that was not the reassurance I was looking for. He must have seen my face drain of colour because he added, ever so calmly, "Don't worry, they're farm-bred. For snake food."

Oh well, that's fine then!

Nothing says "safe to eat" like snake cuisine.

Still, I decided to trust the man. After all, this was Chef Joel McCulla, a culinary artist who could probably make a car tyre taste like confit duck. I reminded myself that if Andrew Zimmern could survive tarantulas and fermented shark, I could manage one dainty rodent burger.

Mise en Plus Mouse

To my immense relief, Joel had already done the messy business of gutting and filleting the mice. (If I'd had to witness that step, I might have excused myself for a very long walk - perhaps to another country.) The mouse meat was surprisingly delicate, finely diced until it resembled high-quality mince. Joel added diced eschalots, a sprinkle of secret seasoning, and formed the mixture into a tiny, perfect patty - a burger fit for Thumbelina.

As it rested in the fridge, he began assembling the accompaniments: miniature knot rolls baked earlier, jewel-bright lettuce trimmed to scale, and a white chocolate and lime aioli that smelled like pure alchemy. He roasted garlic cloves in cocoa butter before whisking them with lime to create a sauce that was, dare I say, heavenly. This was Michelin-level madness.

Meanwhile, the mouse stock was reduced to a glossy demi-glace. I tentatively dipped a spoon in - it tasted rich, savoury, and entirely un-mouse-like. Think of oxtail soup that's on its best behaviour. I started to relax again… right up until Joel fished a few tails out of the pot.

Apparently, they were to be fried for garnish.

Mice Tails or Onion Rings?

Now, I pride myself on being adventurous, but even I have limits. Joel optimistically described them as "crispy with a bit of cartilage," and that was all I needed to know. I would not, under any circumstances, be nibbling on tails. Although they do look "kinda like onion rings..."

When Joel the burger looked disarmingly normal - just a bit smaller, and perhaps a touch more sinister if you knew the secret.

The burger had come together beautifully: a dainty bun spread with aioli, crisp lettuce, precision-cut capsicum, and the gleaming little mouse patty. For the side, Joel wanted to craft some "squeaky fries." After all, a good meal should really "speak to you", shouldn't it? The mice weren't going to be saying too much without a little help! (lol, sorry about my attempt at humour)

The Mouse Burger was given a voice with the addition of "Squeaky Fries," aka halloumi sticks, golden and seasoned. I did warn you that Chef Joel was evil, dastardly, and brilliant in equal measures. The fries lived up to their name and their sinister purpose, to remind you of what you were eating with every bite.

Mini Mouse Burger Plated

The moment of truth had arrived.

Now, I know it's usually ladies first, but when faced with a burger made of mice, chivalry takes a back seat. I gestured gallantly for Joel to take the first bite. Self-preservation, you understand. He sliced the burger in half, inspected it like a jeweller examining a rare gem, then took a slow, thoughtful chew. He nodded. That was my cue.

I followed suit with the delicacy of someone testing an alien life form. The flavour hit - rich, savoury, slightly nutty, with an almost buttery tenderness. Dare I say it… delicious. There, I said it. If I hadn't known what it was, I would've sworn it was a delicate wagyu blend. The lime aioli added a zesty lift, the salad crunched just right, and for a fleeting moment, I forgot I was eating a rodent.

Then reality squeaked back in.

There was an undeniable lump in my throat - part shock, part disbelief - but I swallowed (eventually) and realised I had just joined a very exclusive club of people who can truthfully say, "I've eaten a mouse burger."

Joel, unfazed, took another bite. And since I refused to be out-cheffed, I did the same. This time I savoured it - still slightly disturbed, but weirdly impressed.

Squeaky Fries Anyone?

But the real mischief was yet to come. Joel handed me one of the halloumi "squeaky fries," and as we both bit down, the unmistakable squeak echoed through the kitchen. We looked at each other and burst out laughing - that cheeky sound was like the mice having the last word. It was culinary comedy at its finest - dark, ridiculous, and utterly unforgettable.

The final plate looked stunning: the glossy demi-glace drizzled like molten mahogany, the mini burger perched proudly with its halo of fried eschalots, and those cheeky fries on the side. No one could have guessed the story behind it - except for the two slightly unhinged people standing there, grinning over their gourmet mouse experiment.

Would You Eat a Mouse Burger?

So that's the tale of my most bizarre food adventure - the day I dined on mice and lived to tell the tale/tail. Lol! see what I did there... hehe!

Would I do it again? Probably not.

But would I trade the experience? Never. It reminded me that food is more than flavour - it's culture, creativity, and sometimes, a touch of insanity. I have had many food adventures over the years, and I do hope to share more if people enjoy this one.

Now I'm curious - what's your most adventurous food experience? Have you ever eaten something that made your friends question your sanity?

Maybe you would prefer to try one of my regular burgers, take a look below;

No mice have been harmed in the making of these burgers.

• Salmon Burger
• Sticky Pork Burger

Drop a comment below - or just tell me if you'd be brave enough to take a bite of the Mouse Burger with Squeaky Fries.