Renegade Review: Burgermeisters (Asheville, NC)
Firefox users: I am still trying to figure out why the video does not appear here for you. Please click here to see my video review. — MM
Category: Features
Caption Contest
We, the burgiatrists in residence at The Straight Beef, are holding a caption contest. All you have to do is post your entry to our Facebook page. If you are not on Facebook, you can email your entry to burger.reviews@gmail.com. We will award the winner a TSB coffee mug. Enter as many times as you wish. Good luck.
Note the microphone at the bottom.
Renegade Review: Ray’s Hell Burger (Arlington, VA)
After eating at Ray’s Hell Burger, I decided to do some research on this fine burger establishment. I came across four comment cards written by some of Ray’s famous patrons.
Ask the Burgiatrist
Wary in Weehawken 
DEAR DR. BLUMENTHAL: I don’t believe that “burgiatry” is an actual field of study. In fact, I don’t believe that any self-respecting educational institution would include it in its course offerings. Sorry. –LEONARD HOUCEK, WEEHAWKEN, NJ
DEAR LEONARD: Heed these words and heed them well, you lily-livered man-worm: I will squash you. I will bludgeon you with busts of my burgiatric forebears. I will offer your innards in sacrifice to Burgos. I will marinate you in McRib sauce and feed you to Grimace. –SCOTT BLUMENTHAL, PH.B, LICENSED BURGIATRIST
P.S. Your mother eats veggie burgers.
On the Hunt(‘s) for Good Ketchup
DEAR DR. BLUMENTHAL: Can you give me a good recipe for homemade ketchup? I just can’t seem to get it right. –BETH CANTERBURY, NORTHAMPTON, MA
DEAR BETH: My pleasure. Pull together 4 quarts of peeled tomatoes, 2 quarts of vinegar, 6 chopped red peppers (a must!), four tablespoons of salt, and a pinch of allspice. Boil everything in a kettle for 4 hours until thickened. Voilà! Best of luck, Beth!
Fan-Submitted Tao of Cow
Renegade Review: B&D Burgers (Salt Lake City, UT)
I was in a cheap hotel near the Salt Lake City International Airport, a little tired and a lot hungry. I consulted Urbanspoon’s iPhone app for the ideal burger joint to cure what ailed me, but it was a Sunday; every place I called was closed. Clearly, God was attempting to thwart my efforts to find a great Salt Lake City burger. I had no choice but to beseech the heavens. “Oh, Lord,” I quoth, “must you punish your humble servant by leaving me nothing but Chili’s?”
But alas, my prayers were answered in the form of B&D Burgers near the University of Utah. And, according to Urbanspoon, they had recently added a TV (!).
B&D was a cozy place with just two employees but many burger choices. My belly beckoned me to the Big Bernie, essentially B&D’s version of the Big Mac. Three bun slices with two patties, lettuce, Thousand Island dressing, and American cheese (my choice).
It was better than the McDonald’s standby, which isn’t saying much. Solid but not outstanding. Given the scarcity of quality burger joints available for Salt Lake City folks, I’d say the Runnin’ Utes are lucky to have B&D’s this close to campus. I give the burger a 3.5.
The Tao of Cow
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 $2,000 and “million-dollar taste buds.” Today, the original Varsity is a two-story “Lunching Pad” (with six Atlanta-area sister locations), boasting the world’s largest drive-in, capable of accommodating 600 cars. Inside, the restaurant can hold no fewer than 800 burger-munching souls. On days when the Georgia Tech Yellowjackets are playing at home, over 30,000 people visit The Varsity.
And I can understand why.
The Varsity cheeseburger was greasy goodness from start to end—a fine lesson in burgiatric simplicity. From its unpretentious bun to its unassuming stack of lettuce, tomato, and mayo to its unaffected beefy innards, the burger was what fast food should be: fast and delicious, but without the robotic, overly processed, I-wish-I hadn’t-eaten-that-rock-in-my-belly after-feeling.
My review: 4 out of 5.
The Straight Beef Gangsta Rap
Say what? You must be trippin’ with a patty like that
Even Ron the red-head stepchild can do better than that!
Frontin’ me some fried-up disc of soybeans you done mixed in a vat?
Better check yourself and realize who you lookin’ at!
An’ I ain’t ‘bout to get dissed by some punk-ass b$&%@.
Don’t know a real Angus patty from the a%& on his itch
Next time you serve this pimp a burger, better show some respect
Or you’re gonna see what a burgiatrist can do when he’s p%&^#$!
Cause it’s a Straight Beef G-thing, Baby
Three loc’d out Gs eatin’ crazy
Layin’ down burger truth for the ladies
And makin’ burger education straight SEXY.
And all you other chump reviewers with your lame-a&% blogs
You may not mean any harm, but you be steerin’ peeps wrong.
Go ahead and rate a burger but you’re gonna get flogged
Ain’t got no ivy-league cred like me and my TSB dogs.
Cause it’s a Straight Beef G-thing, Baby
Three loc’d out Gs eatin’ crazy
Layin’ down burger truth for the ladies
And makin’ burger education straight SEXY.
—John McManus, distinguished burgiatrist and renowned author of Self-Actualization, Medium-Rare
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.
