Author: michaelm

Reviews #10 and #11: Bonefish Grill (Cary) and Cheesecake Factory (Raleigh)

John’s Reviews:

A Kind of Kobe Komparison

 

Preface: Let me speak for the TSB faculty and state for the record—for anyone who may look upon the comparative review that follows with a measure of cockeyed scrutiny—that we are simply not for sale. Our pledged allegiance is to the documentation of burger truth, as we see it, for the benefit of our constituents and fellow burger lovers across the globe. Though we did indeed accept a request from Bonefish Grill to sample their new Kobe burger creation and compare it to a Kobe burger at any restaurant of our choosing, and though we did accept a small subsidy to do so and may accept similar subsidies in the future (hint, hint), the flattery of an invitation, royal treatment upon arrival, and even the commonly corruptible power of the almighty dollar will never have the slightest impact on our collective objectivity and the unimpeachable veracity of our reviews. Again, I say, our allegiance is, and will always be, to you, and to burger truth. Amen. (Also, in light of the fact that we found ourselves at Bonefish Grill and The Cheesecake Factory to review these burgers, we have reignited our internal debate over whether to open the door to reviewing chains. My argument is that, burger truth is where you find it, and that it only makes sense that we should walk into the light, so to speak. Even if that light leads us into a Five Guys. Stay tuned for a future announcement, following our internal soul-searching and spirited discussion of this matter.)

Bonefish Grill Kobe* Burger

I like Bonefish Grill—not for the smoky flavor of their grilled fish (which I do not favor), but because I’m a sucker for the Bonefish Bang Bang Shrimp, as are most who’ve been there. However, I was more than skeptical of finding burger truth and bliss at a seafood chain, even if they did use high-quality beef. For one thing, I didn’t expect them to have the proper respect for the medium. I expected them to come through on the high-quality beef, but to then ruin it on the grill and put little to no love and care into the other ingredients and the build. I must tell you that I was pleasantly surprised overall.

There was care and love put into this burger. There were some novice mistakes in the standard ingredients (“special sauce,” for example) and the order of the build (veggies under the patty), but correct some of those when you order and you will enjoy what I consider to be a formidable gourmet burger in the Snooty Beauty classification. A rather lofty, puffy-looking fresh-baked bun looked as if it would be too much bread for the build but turned out to be satisfyingly soft and steamy. It compressed effortlessly, had a wonderful, yeasty flavor and was in perfect proportion to the other ingredients. The patty, which I was unable to order to temperature, came out a bit under-cooked, resulting in the perfect medium-rare of my strong preference, and its “Kobe” quality and rich flavor fulfilled the mouth-watering promise of the brand. My tomato was red and delicious, and the lettuce fresh and green. Cheddar cheese is a good choice for this burger, and its sharp flavor and oils blended and balanced nicely with the lush tastes of the other high-quality ingredients.

Aside from the my disagreement with the standard ingredients for this burger, the annoying affectation of having the order of the build inverted, and that a proprietary seasoning mix on the patty that was unnecessary for such high-quality beef, making the last couple of bites just a little too rich, this was one heck of a Snooty Beauty, an uplifting hymnal of burger truth, and I sing its praises. A VERY strong 4.5.

Cheesecake Factory Kobe* Burger

I’ll brief here (imagine that!). I was equally skeptical of finding burger truth at The Cheesecake Factory. I must report that I did find a small amount, but it will suffice to say that it was only in the quality of the beef. The bun, veggies, cheese, loud and unappetizingly gaudy atmosphere, and our rickety table were all a bit of a disappointment, and I decline to expound, as I am a highly skilled and respected burgiatrist, and my time is valuable. Burger: 3.5, but you can get one cheaper elsewhere. (Cheesecake: 4.5!)

*Technically speaking, neither burger is Kobe but rather American Wagyu. To its credit, Bonefish refers to “American Kobe” in its menu. (True Kobe is can only be bred in Japan. This guy explains further: http://baygourmet.tripod.com/wagyu.html).

Michael’s Reviews:

Forget About the Build

 

The Bonefish Grill

I was surprised when the people at Bonefish Grill contacted us review their burger. I didn’t even know they had one. Their instructions were do review theirs and a burger someplace else, then compare the two. We thought that the ambiance and quality of the Cheesecake Factory were similar to those of Bonefish, so we set our sights on a Bonefish vs. Cheesecake challenge.

Bonefish Grill has one burger on their menu, a basic “American Style” Kobe Beef burger that comes with cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, red onion, and “special sauce” (roughly mayo, ketchup, and relish). I chose to add avocado to mine.

The bun was grilled exactly the way I like it—just enough to keep the juices in check, but not too much that it crumbled. The order of the build was almost completely contrary to classic burgologic tradition. From the top down, it went: sauce, lettuce, tomato, onion, burger, cheese, avocado. My first bite, however, made me forget about the build.

The flavor and consistency of the patty was out of this world. Wagyu (American-style Kobe beef) is heavily marbled, and the distinctive and delicious flavor was apparent with each bite. The one strike against it was the “Bonefish seasoning,” a proprietary blend of spices, which was pleasant but a little too salty. A surprisingly great burger experience from a seafood place. My rating: 4.25.

The Cheesecake Factory

The Cheesecake Factory has a Kobe burger on their expansive menu, which allowed us to do a more apples-to-apples comparison. We asked if we could substitute the Kobe patty on any of their specialty burgers, which they did without hesitation. I ordered mine with bacon and blue cheese.

From the moment it was placed before me, I knew I would be disappointed. The bun had barely spent any time on the grill. The lettuce, tomato, and onion were underneath the patty. Plus, the lettuce and tomato were on the white side—definitely not fresh, and virtually tasteless. The bacon was in an X pattern on top of the patty, with a blob of blue cheese at the intersection. If I wanted consistent flavor throughout the burger, I’d basically had to tear it down and rebuild it. The patty itself had very good flavor and was the saving grace of the experience. My rating: 3.5.

Scott’s Review:

No, Seriously…A Fish Place

 

Year: 2052

Station: President Miley Cyrus Commemorative Moonbase

Location: Family pod of Scott “Grandpa Fixins” Blumenthal, burgrarian (ret.)

“Okay, kids, gather ‘round. It’s time for tonight’s burger tale, Bonefish and the Cheesecake.”

“But Grandpa Fixins, we heard this one already.”

“Maybe so, Steve34-2f,” said Grandpa Fixins, “but we mustn’t forget our history, lest we eat a bad burger and be doomed to repeat it.”

“Oh Grandpa Fixins,” said little Phyllis38-4a. “Do tell us the story again, won’t you?”

“All right, children,” said Grandpa Fixins, mussing little Phyllis38-4a’s hair. “Long ago, in the year 2010, The Bonefish Grill came to The Straight Beef with fifty dollars an a challenge: Try their new ‘American Style’ Kobe Beef burger, then have a burger someplace else, then write a review comparing the two.”

“Bonefish? You mean the eating station that serves Bang Bang Shrimpfood Delta?”

“That’s right, Frank11-3g.”

“Come to Bonefish,” sang Frank11-3g, the other grandchildren joining him in the jingle, “for the best non-extinct seameat in the universe. Bonefish!”

“But Grandpa Fixins,” asked Phil 19-5g, “doesn’t Bonefish serve only seameat? How good can a Bonefish burger really be?”

“That, wise Phil 19-5g, is why this story is so remarkable. You see, I too had little doubt upon entering Bonefish that the burger would be anything but middling. After all, what would a fish restaurant, as they were called in those days, know about the fine art of burgery? But heed these words, children, and let them be for you a seal upon your heart: From the moment I bit into the Bonefish burger, with its soft brioche bun, Thousand Island-esque house sauce, crisp lettuce, juicy tomato, and succulent, quality cheddar cheese, I knew that I had bitten upon something special. After two bites, The Straight Beef agreed that this burger was of exceptional quality. After three bites, we agreed it was easily in the top five burgers we’ve reviewed. After four, it cracked the top three. It truly was, children, one of the greatest burgers I’ve ever had.”

“But Grandpa Fixins,” asked Frank 11-3g, “you said that the story was Bonefish and the Cheesecake. Did you have cheesecake for dessert?”

“Not quite, Frank 11 3g,” said Grandpa Fixins, “the ‘cheesecake’ part of the story refers to the Cheesecake Factory, where we went for our comparison.”

“But what’s the Cheesecake Factory? And why would they have hamburgers?”

“The Cheesecake Factory was an eating station that was popular in the early twenty-first century. It served not only cheesecake but every other possible permutation of edible thing. Sadly,” said Grandpa Fixins, looking down, “the chain went under when the ad-laden menu became too heavy for humans to lift.”

“So how was their burger?” asked Phil 19-5g.

“Yes, Grandpa Fixins,” echoed little Phyllis38-4a. “Do tell us.”

“Well,” said Grandpa Fixins, rubbing his chin, “they served a decent burger. A respectable burger. I liked it. Phenomenal cheesecake, though.”

“But?” asked the children, leaning forward.

“But,” said Grandpa Fixins with no small measure of profundity, “it just didn’t hold a candle to the Bonefish burger.”

“What’s a candle, Grandpa Fixins?” asked little Phyllis 38-4a.

“That,” said Grandpa Fixins, “is a story for another time. Now, who’s up for Jupiter burgers, made from real Kobe beef DNA?”

Scott’s Bonefish Grill Review: 4.5

Scott’s Cheesecake Factory Review: 3.5

Bonefish Grill on Urbanspoon Cheesecake Factory on Urbanspoon

Renegade Review: The Varsity (Atlanta, GA)

It’s been contrary to the Straight Beef credo to visit fast food joints, but The Varsity in Atlanta is a notable exception. It’s beyond fast food. It’s trans-fast. It’s supra-fast, if you will.

According to its website, the original Varsity was opened in 1928 by Frank Gordy, a man with $2,000 and “million-dollar taste buds.” Today, the original Varsity is a two-story “Lunching Pad” (with six Atlanta-area sister locations), boasting the world’s largest drive-in, capable of accommodating 600 cars. Inside, the restaurant can hold no fewer than 800 burger-munching souls. On days when the Georgia Tech Yellowjackets are playing at home, over 30,000 people visit The Varsity.

And I can understand why.

The Varsity cheeseburger was greasy goodness from start to end—a fine lesson in burgiatric simplicity. From its unpretentious bun to its unassuming stack of lettuce, tomato, and mayo to its unaffected beefy innards, the burger was what fast food should be: fast and delicious, but without the robotic, overly processed, I-wish-I hadn’t-eaten-that-rock-in-my-belly after-feeling.

My review: 4 out of 5.

The Varsity on Urbanspoon

Review #9: The Corner Tavern and Grill (Cary)

John’s Review

Corner Burger (Classic Rocks with a twist…pretzel twist, that is)

When I updated my wife on the TSB agenda and told her we were going to end up at the Corner, she said, “The coroner? You certainly are, if you keep eating so many cheeseburgers!”

Now that I got that out of my system, let’s get down to business.

The Corner Grill & Tavern in Cary made it onto our review agenda strictly because it served a cheeseburger with Angus beef on a pretzel roll. Other than that, we knew little, and we liked the idea of not knowing what to expect.

Many of your strip-mall pubs do a pretty good job of creating a world apart by painting the plate-glass black or by other means of making them opaque, then overwhelming you with sports visuals or Irish/English décor and relics. Inside them, you quickly forget that you’re parked in front of a nail salon, UPS store, and grocery chain.

Not at the Corner T&G. We sat at a table along the clear glass façade, and I had an unobstructed view down the storefronts and directly into what, if I remember correctly, was some sort of salon or lady’s shop. Inside the Corner, there was low recessed lighting, various sports on the refreshingly distributed flat-screens that didn’t compete with one another in a cacophony of sight and sound, and the occasional glow of a neon beer sign. A secondary set of back doors let the light pour in and led to outdoor seating on a patio, distinguishing this place even further from the many dark-hole otherworldly pubs in strip malls.

Hence, apart from feeling a bit more open and less over-decorated than typical strip-mall pubs, and the little done-before culinary kinkiness of serving a sandwich on a pretzel roll (think Bennigan’s), the Corner didn’t present many ostensible reasons to get all hot and bothered at the start of things.

So many times in life, I’m reminded to get to know someone, or something, a little better before passing judgment. After getting to know the Corner Tavern & Grill a bit better that night, I can tell you that that pretzel roll was soft and steamy and made a uniquely delicious and functional vehicle for everything in between. And in between was pretty special as well: fresh Angus beef, as promised, cooked to temperature and blessed with melted cheese and fresh vegetables so happily in the proper build order (tomato juices blending with the mayo as they should). There was surprisingly significant burger pleasure here, bordering on bliss. I’d classify this as a Classic Rocks cheeseburger, though the pretzel roll is a little out of category and would make it one that I probably wouldn’t eat with high frequency, opting instead to have it as a change of pace.

That said, it’s a strong 4 out of 5, and I recommend that you get one from time to time. Exceptional service, with multiple staff members checking with us on the quality of our meal, including a very friendly sport of a young waiter that held his own in quick MLB banter with Dr. Blumenthal. Based on our initial visit, the Corner is nice, clean, unassuming and open, with friendly people, great service, and a damn fine cheeseburger (not to mention the wings).

 

A Note to The Corner T&G: “Fresh burger grilled to your liking served with tomato, lettuce and onion” on your menu doesn’t do this cheeseburger justice. Go ahead and brag a little.

Scott’s Review

Corner Burger (classic rocks)

So often in life we’re unpleasantly surprised. We choose the grocery line that moves four inches per hour. We go to the movie that was hyped beyond reason but was insipid beyond description. Our flight to Bermuda, where we’re going to finally get a weekend to relax, is canceled, and when we finally gets there it rains both days—and it turns out that the hotel has “four stores,” not “four stars,” and the guy at the desk is from Uruguay and doesn’t speak English and can’t follow your request not to be on the same floor as the Wisconsin Youth Soccer League on spring break.

Sometimes, however, we’re pleasantly surprised.

Truth be told, I hadn’t heard of The Corner Tavern and Grill before it was recommended by John’s wife Kim, one of the Straight Beef Ladies (don’t Google it). I went in with no prejudice, no expectations, no preconceived notions, and no expectations—just a deep, burgiatric hunger that only beef, buns, and fixins can satisfy.

I remember being literally surprised—pleasantly—when I took my first bite of the Corner Burger. Big, flavorful beef, two fat tomato slices, crispy lettuce, all between a chewy pretzel bun. I remember pointing to the burger and saying, “Hey—that’s good.” As we ate we were visited by no fewer than five employees, all of whom were concerned with our being happy and well fed. Big kudos, CTG, on your great service.

All told, the Corner Burger was a solid 4.25 out of 5. I’d recommend it to anyone who’s looking for a fine all-around burger outing, especially to those who have stood in the grocery line way too long—and are ready for a pleasant surprise.

Michael’s Review

The Mickey Burger (classic rocks)

Tucked away in a corner of the Kroger shopping center near Maynard and High House, the aptly named Corner Tavern and Grill is a gem.

Upon arriving, the hostess advised us to sit inside, as they only available outside table was in the bright sun. Just one example of the great service we received that night.

Before we knew it, our courteous, knowledgeable server brought out our appetizers: Lemon Pepper First Inning Wings and Buffalo Shrimp. I was a big fan of the lemon pepper wings. Zesty and crispy. (As a side note, they have $0.35 wings every Sunday all year round. This might have to be a repeat destination during football season.)

For the main course, I went with the Mickey’s burger, a 10-ounce Angus patty topped with applewood bacon, lettuce, tomato, onion, and American cheese. (Man, I wish our nation’s restaurants would get off the applewood bacon kick. What ever happened to plain old salty bacon? But I digress.) For me, what made the burger was the pretzel roll. It had a pleasant firm yet chewy consistency. It held everything together without falling apart or getting soggy.

Over the course of the meal, five different people came up to us to ask us how we were doing, one of them being who I think was the busboy. That’s how dedicated they are to good service.

With first-class customer service and a more than solid burger, I give it a 4.25 out of 5. I can’t wait to go back.

The Corner Tavern & Grill on Urbanspoon

Renegade Review: No Name Saloon and Grill (Park City, UT)

My journey to Park City was long, and the stale, re-circulated airplane air had taken its toll. Wanting nothing more than some grub to satiate my hunger, I got out of the hotel’s Escalade in front of the No Name Saloon, the home of the orneriest burgers in the West.

Once there, I stepped out of the car and raised my hand to shield my eyes from the bright Utah sun. I pushed my way through the doorway, knocked the dust from my Cole Haan loafers, and bellied up to the bar.

“Barkeep,” I said, “my journey was long, and I am weary.”

“What you need, stranger, is the Saloon Burger. A half-pound of ground buffalo with grilled onions, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and mayo.”

“Buffalo?” I asked, careful not to betray my trepidation. “I’ll take it.”

“The Saloon is one of my favorites,” offered the visibly inebriated gentleman next to me. He and a compatriot had clearly been there for some time. “I would also suggest the Zesty Red Bull Burger.”

“I am only here for the weekend,” I said, careful not to rile him. “I probably won’t have a chance to come back for another.”

My inebriated friend’s compatriot cocked his head. “You’re only ordering one?” he asked. “We all eat multiple burgers here in Utah.”

“Multiple burgers?”

“Sure. Sometimes three, four, five at a time. It’s just the way things are done around here.”

“The other burgers don’t mind?”

“Of course not. They consider it a privilege to share a plate with the other burgers.”

I had read about the practice of polyburgiatry, but I’d always known it wasn’t for me; I’m a one-burger man.

And I have no regrets. The Saloon Burger was juicy and delicious, with sweet onions and cheese melted to perfection. The lettuce and tomato were crisp and fresh. The buffalo patty was pleasantly flavorful. Only the fact that the burger arrived medium-well, despite my order of medium, kept the Saloon—the only non-cow offering on the site thus far—from a 5.

If the locals did have to choose only one, I’d recommend the Saloon Burger. I give it a 4.5 out of 5.

No Name Saloon on Urbanspoon

Review #8: Tribeca Tavern (Cary)

  • Joint: Tribeca Tavern
  • Burger: Land and Sea (Scott), Southern Lovin’ (John), The Masterpiece (Michael)
  • Burger Category: Look At Me! (Scott and John), Snooty Beauty (Michael)

Michael’s Review

There was a lot to like about the Tribeca Tavern in Cary. The service was excellent. The restaurant was beautiful, the table well appointed. My locally brewed beer was served with a hard pretzel—a nice touch. Tribeca’s burger menu is extensive, with 17 burgers to choose from.

I decided on The Masterpiece, which featured a Kobe beef patty topped with St. Andre triple crème and short ribs that were smoked for 12 hours, topped with port wine gravy.

It turned out to be a burger of contrasts. My first bites were complex and intriguing, but those first impressions gradually diminished. Eventually, it was just another burger. The gourmet ciabatta bun crumbled apart as I ate. The patty itself was silky Kobe beef, but it was overdone.

Despite the critiques, I will say that the burger was interesting. The short ribs and sauce could stand on their own as a respectable entrée. It was a difficult burger to rate. The bun was a 1. The patty was a 3. The short ribs and sauce were 5s. I look forward to going back to Tribeca, as I want to support a restaurant that supports local farmers and brewers. I might get another burger, but more likely I’ll explore the rest of the expansive menu.

I give the burger a 3.25.

Scott’s Review

Tribeca Tavern: A Play in One Act

 

FADE IN:

Still, warm evening. Outside seating area at Tribeca Tavern in Cary. Spotlight on our three heroes.

SCOTT

(pounding head on table)

What should I order? So many choices. Do I get the burger with short rib and St. Andre Triple crème, or the one with fried salami?

MICHAEL

(arms extended heavenward, imploring)

Or the one with 10 ounces of ground beef, 8 ounces of Kobe, 8 ounces of lamb, 5 ounces of spicy sausage, all topped with “Hoop” cheddar, mozzarella, pepper jack, and American cheeses, complete with 8 slices of bacon–all on battered brioche?

JOHN

(weeping gently)

Or the one with slaw?

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER:

Table littered with beers, wing bones, and three plates of fries and quarter-eaten burgers, each four feet in height.

SCOTT

Who had the Southern Lovin’ burger, again?

JOHN

That would be me…I think.

MICHAEL

No, you got the Land and Sea.

JOHN

Was that the one with crab on it?

MICHAEL

I think so.

JOHN

[Examines burger on plate.]

Oh yeah.

SCOTT

So where’s the one with the fried egg on it?

JOHN

We got one with fried egg on it?

All three heroes look confusedly at one another’s plates, then their own.

MICHAEL

Probably.

Our heroes shrug, continue eating.

Big points for service, ambiance, and burger novelty. Mid-level points for taste. My review: 2.75 out of 5.

John’s Review

Oh my. You were right! She is breathtaking in this photo—exotic, even. And the way you describe her, we seem to have so much in common. I’m in. I want to meet her. Go ahead and set it up.

Blimey! She was attractive, but there was just no chemistry. And what the hell was she wearing? It was pleasant evening, and it had its high points, but just not what I’d hoped for. But there’s more to her, I think. I’m not giving up yet. I’ll see her again, but next time it’ll be much less formal. I think we need to just relax, hang out, and not try so hard. I’ll let you know how it goes.

My hopes were sky-high for the Tribeca Tavern, as it had come highly recommended (though not by a fellow burgiatrist, I should say). It seemed to offer such a special atmosphere, and while covering a more traditional burger menu, also promised some special burger artistry in a unique marriage of the “Look at Me!” and “Snooty Beauty” categories. Add that excitement to the availability of their proprietary brews on tap, and TSB was on its way.

And we went for it! We all opted for the Burger Menu, which is dedicated to such fanciful and esoteric burger creations as to put your imagination into overdrive. Eggs, fried green tomatoes, crab, goat cheese, rosemary hollandaise…these are all ingredients in the mix here. Despite the availability of some much crazier options, I chose a “Look at Me!” burger that you might find elsewhere: the Land and Sea, with Angus beef, lump crab, fried mashed potatoes, roasted garlic, and rosemary hollandaise. It came on what I would call a split ciabatta roll. All of these very special ingredients combined to create and thrillingly different burger that was, in a word, bland.

The thrill was gone, baby. What remained was to finish this thing in a state of mild disappointment. Perhaps even that Kobe burger on the main menu (which of course, would be in the “Snooty Beauty” category due to the professed quality of the ingredients).

I won’t drone on. The burger was a 3. The service was excellent, the sweet potato fries were good, the place was lovely, and the beer selection is probably delicious, even if I did make a poor, overly-hoppy selection. I still think Tribeca is highly attractive (smokin’ hot, as a matter of fact), and I’m actually looking forward to seeing her again. But we’re not going to put on any airs this go ‘round. We’ll just dress casually, kick back with a good beer, and maybe listen to some Classic Rocks together. (In other words, a good old-fashioned cheeseburger.)

Tribeca Tavern on Urbanspoon

Renegade Review: JG Melon (New York, NY)

There are those who will come to fisticuffs over the question of New York’s best burger. Among the most zealous of these burger-warriors are devotees of JG Melon.

Since 1972, the Upper East Side’s JG Melon (3rd Avenue at 74th Street) has been delighting out-of-town pilgrims and neighborhood faithful alike with what many call the best burger on the isle of Manhattan. If you asked the throng huddled in Melon’s diminutive lobby, waiting for a seat and a slab of heaven, you might receive fifty reasons why this is so. For me, the kitchen—just a few steps past the front door—tells the whole story: small, open for the world to see, and populated by little else but a searing flat grill and pounds of fresh, double-ground chuck. It epitomizes the burgers that it produces: simple, unassuming, and totally mesmerizing.

If my years as a professional burgrarian have taught me anything, it’s never to underestimate the union of quality and simplicity, a marriage that JG Melon officiates beautifully: a generous patty of flavorful, quality beef, topped with sharp-salty pickle slices, juicy-fresh tomatoes, and a crown of crisp, whole-leaf lettuce between a soft, unseeded bun. I have no doubt that Melon’s famed cottage-fried potatoes were delicious, but frankly I don’t remember them well; I was too engrossed in the burger.

My rating: 4 out of 5.

J.G. Melon on Urbanspoon

Review #7: Johnson’s (Siler City)

  • Joint: Johnson’s
  • Burger: Cheeseburger
  • Burger Category: Classic Rocks

Scott’s Review

This review is a tale of two photographs. The first is of Michael’s daughter Chloe (right), who famously eats nothing but waffles and bacon. Check out this photo. See the delight. See the intensity. See the unbridled joy. This photo embodies the burger greatness of Johnson’s Restaurant in Siler City.

 

It’s quite possible, I thought upon witnessing Chloe’s culinary epiphany, that her brain will forever associate the highest echelon of pure food enjoyment with that burger. If so, I can’t blame her. I might be a few years older, but my experience was not dissimilar.

 

Which brings us to the second photograph (below), of my daughter, Eve,also undergoing a transformative experience: the first time she witnessed her father devolve into a brainless, burger-ravishing lunatic. Her eyes tell the whole story, a story she will recount for a therapist thirty years hence.

 

I refused to settle on a rating until the next day. It was between a 4.5 and a 5, that much I knew, but the decision was too important not to sleep on it, to let it sizzle on the juicy flatgrill of memory.

 

In the end, I’m going with a 4.5, but only because I didn’t love the slab of Velveeta as much as I loved the other components, and for me it thwarted the burger’s otherwise sterling pursuit of brilliance.

But man, what a great burger.

Michael’s Review

Johnson’s Restaurant in Siler City might represent the farthest The Straight Beef will travel for an official review. So why travel so far? Well, its reputation is legendary. Because the beef is delivered fresh and the place closes when it runs out, we decided to head out early with our families and get there when it opened at 10 a.m. We arrived at 9:55, with already about ten people ahead of us, waiting patiently by the door. We crammed into the last available booth.

The menu was simple: hamburger, cheeseburger, grilled cheese, hot dog, and a lettuce and tomato sandwich. I ordered a cheeseburger with the works, which included slaw, chili, and onions. The order of the build saw the toppings hiding beneath the patty, and a hunk of Velveeta melted on top. The patty clearly was made immediately before being fried on the griddle. It was medium to medium-well. The bun was tremendous, cooked on the griddle with the meat. The kicker was that it was buttered. A very nice touch.

The flavor of the beef was perfect. The toppings were just enough to give it a little zip without being overpowering. Unfortunately, the over-processed aftertaste of the Velveeta kept it from being the perfect cheeseburger.

It was excellent. I’m giving it a 4.5.

John’s Review

Burgiatrists sometimes disagree. It’s a fact. And while the diversity of professional analyses and conclusions serves only to elevate our collective value to the burger-loving world, sometimes a single burgiatrist is so moved by salient truth that he must risk offending his respected colleagues by most vehemently—and publicly—disagreeing. He must do so for the good of humankind (at least the portion that lives for a good cheeseburger), and you fail to lend credence to this lone wolf burgiatrist at your own peril.

At this moment, I am compelled to be that lone wolf, and to howl at the moon until you disregard the derogatory comments my TSB peers have issued regarding the use of Velveeta on the Johnson’s burger. Listen to reason now…This is a hand-pattied hunk of the freshest ground chuck (not prissy Kobe beef), and its high-fat (70/30 at a minimum) flavor is trapped within the ultimately juicy patty by frying it fast on a sizzling hot and time-seasoned flat grill, leaving just the right amount of crispy, flavorful char on its outermost layer.

What do you put on a patty like that? Vermont cheddar? Goat cheese? No! You put classic American cheese on it, whether pulled from a thin fold of cellophane or hacked off a big block the size, shape, and weight of a good brick! This is no Snooty Beauty. On the contrary, this is perhaps the most classic of the Classic Rocks genus! An American cheeseburger at its most fresh and pure, with school-bus-yellow, artery-clogging cheese all gooey over the patty, intermingling with the fatty grease, and so perfectly pressed between two steamy and greasy white bread buns. (A tear now…please bear with me a moment. There. I’m okay now. My apologies.)

Do yourself a favor, my friends. Go to Johnson’s soon. Get there early. Get that classic, humble, beautiful, delicious, American, quintessential cheeseburger and wash it down with a Pepsi. Savor the melted Velveeta. Then drive back to the Triangle among the pastures and fields along Highway 64. Get yourself one of these 4.5s and live the American dream. I implore you.

Johnson's Drive-In on Urbanspoon

Review #6: Carolina Brewery (Chapel Hill)

  • Joint: Carolina Brewery
  • Burger: SW Scorcher (Michael), Brewery Burger (Scott), Build Your Own (John)
  • Burger Category: Look At Me! (Michael), Classic Rocks (John and Scott)

John’s Review

One nice thing about writing a TSB Burger review is that we don’t require ourselves to do it the evening of the meal. If that were the case, I would be giving the burger at Carolina Brewery a solid 4, for there were not-so-subtle influences at play that night as to put me in a favorable mood and a mode of flattery and conciliation. As it is, however, I sit down to write my review with enough time between me and that burger and that night to have found my journalistic objectivity—the kind I owe my faithful constituents in this noble vocation. It would be egregious of me to let distracting influences blur my focus on the burger itself and skew my evaluation…influences like the powerful and sweet nostalgia of being back on Franklin Street for the first time since a distant epoch of collegial mirth and mayhem with my Tarheel freunds and fräuleins; like the intoxicating spring air that was fragrant and warm upon my skin and in my lungs as we strolled across the street to Carolina Brewery at dusk; like the liveliness of the street with its cruising cars and the sidewalks that seemed to vibrate and move all of the students and young couples amusingly along them at different speeds and in different directions, like the tiny plastic players on an old electric football field I had when I was young; like the two smooth Carolina Brewery custom brews that drained counter-clockwise down my throat before our burgers even arrived; like the easy feeling I always have as I join my fellow Burgiatrists in a cozy booth to share some good beer, beef and bombast for an hour or two.

If I were not so professional as to require a state of complete objectivity before issuing my evaluation and recommendation to you, I would give undue weight to the fact that the overcooked patty was still quite moist and flavorful, or that the dry-looking Kaiser roll was actually fresh and soft when I took that first bite. I might focus a bit too much on the order of the build (which was perfectly in order).  And I might surround those accurate facts about the burger itself with friendly fluff that simply isn’t useful to you in your own search for burger bliss (e.g., reminiscences about the general location of the restaurant, or pretty prose about the weather that night). However, with my professionalism and objectivity about me, I report to you that the burger you’ll find at Carolina Brewery—the burger itself—is a 3.5. Not bad at all, really, but not great. It goes well with your beer (which is delicious) and gets the job done as you sit in a very pleasant atmosphere among pleasant people on a pleasant night. Regarding any negative aspects of the burger…my mother always said that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all (so I won’t tell you that you can’t really get your burger cooked to temperature, or that the lettuce was less than fresh, or that my tomato slices were pinkish and flavorless with crystalline meat, as are those that are genetically manipulated to stay fresh for over a year). Carolina Brewery “Build Your Own” burger: 3.5. Carolina Brewery itself: 4.

Scott’s Review

I’ve always thought there should be a word for the concoction created by the simple combination of ketchup and mustard. Ketchard? Mustup? Yellow-red burgonaise?

There should also be a word, I think, for a burger that’s just plain good—not unpleasant in any way, not so outstanding that you’re ready to run down West Franklin Street singing a burger-themed paean.

That’s what the Brewery Burger was to me—a solid, tasty, respectable hamburger. Forty years from now, when I’m sitting around the Straight Beef office complex, reflecting on our jaunt to the Carolina Brewery in Chapel Hill, I’ll remember the outstanding signature brews fresh from the giant in-house copper cauldrons, the burlap bags of hops stacked nearby, and the insanely spicy Thai chili wings. Will I be able to describe the emotions that the Brewery Burger inspired in me? Mayhaps. Perchibly. Possiburger.

My rating: 3.25.

Michael’s Review

It was a perfect Carolina spring evening, and stars were aligned for a fine evening of handcrafted beer and burgers. Where else to go but the Carolina Brewery in Chapel Hill?

I kicked off the meal with a Sky Blue Golden Ale (silver medal at the World Beer Championships), along with “hot & spicy” and “Thai chili” wings. The hot & spicy were meaty and of the standard Buffalo ilk. The Thai chili were low on flavor but ridiculously hot. I wouldn’t recommend those except on a bet.

Lately, I’m emerging as the one who orders the burger no one else will try. (See my review of the Salem Street Pub’s My Wife Said It Wouldn’t Sell). True to form, I ordered the SW Scorcher, a spring special, “dusted with a Mexican rub, topped with jalapeños tossed in habanero sauce, melted jack cheese,” and, of course, “lime cured cabbage.”

In all my years as holistic burgologist, I had never experienced a burger-related burn quite like this one. The habanero sauce and freshly cut jalapeños completely covered the burger, promising a wallop in every bite. I can cross an intense burning sensation on the roof of my mouth off my bucket list.

The build was perfect: burger, cheese, habanero sauce, jalapeños, tomato, lettuce. The bun was perhaps a little too toasted, but it easily maintained the burger. Not a single rogue jalapeño escaped as I was eating.

The biggest drawback was the beef itself: way overdone, despite my request for the rare side of medium. Scott’s was medium well, as requested, but mine was left on the grill just long enough to cook the flavor away. That aside, the outstanding toppings might have brought the burger to a solid 4, perhaps even flirting with a 4.5. As it was, though, I give it a 3.5.

Carolina Brewery on Urbanspoon

Renegade Review: Burger Joint at Le Parker Meridien (New York, NY)

My expectations were high as I entered the spectacular Le Parker Meridien hotel, one of Manhattan’s largest and most exclusive hotels, two blocks from Central Park, one from Carnegie Hall. But I wasn’t there for the five-star accommodations; I was there for the burgers.

Tucked away behind a curtain by an emergency exit was a regular-guy oasis in a desert of exclusivity: the famed Burger Joint, deemed by Men’s Fitness as the purveyor of the best burger in the country. The décor was modern dive, with 1970s rock and punk posters on the walls. The tables and booths were old, with worn wood. Neat effect, if a bit forced.

I walked in just as the BJ opened, a legion of patties sizzling on the grill, mobilizing themselves for the onslaught of burger pilgrims. I went traditional—cheeseburger (medium) with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. As the line grew out the door, so did my anticipation for what would surely be a slice of burger heaven.

Finally, it was before me. The build was good: burger, cheese (cheddar, I think), tomato, and lettuce. The mayo was spread thickly on the top bun. I took a bite, and…it was all right. The middle was correctly medium, yes, but the char on the outside led me to believe they cranked up the heat to pump ‘em out fast. That was enough to knock the overall effect to just decent.  I don’t think I would go back unless I were staying at the hotel itself and needed a quick bite on my way out.

All told, it didn’t live up to the hype: 3 out of 5.

Burger Joint at Le Parker Meridien on Urbanspoon

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