The cacophony of sound (generated by the boisterous crowd, kitchen clatter and a raucous Van Halen soundtrack) reverberates in the tiny room and amplifies as the evening progresses. Hungry 20-somethings waiting in line brush up against those sitting at closely arranged tables and concentrating on massive portions of starving-artist staples: burritos, burgers, quesadillas and sandwiches. Lamb merguez poutine is loaded with molten brie, spicy sausage and unremarkable gravy. A garlicky yet dull caesar arrives sans bacon. Dwarfed by a mountain of so-so fries, a house-made char-grilled bison burger delivers eight ounces of gamy, moist, well-flavoured meat on a fully loaded sesame seed bun. The beer list is satisfying, with its selection drawn from around the globe. Outsourced desserts, such as a fridge-fatigued raspberry tart, are unnecessary. Service is perfunctory. Sit on the back patio for the quintessential beer and burger experience.