chicago burger project

A reply

2009-09-18T08:28:00.000-07:00

It finally happened: The Chicago Burger Project has been officially called out by TOC writer David Tamarkin for "childishly ripping apart assessing" their list while having the audacity to take our time at it.

Apologies are due for insulting the critical autonomy of the second-most prestigious magazine in my dentist's waiting room. As we've made clear, we're not professional food writers, just self-funded burger enthusiasts who conceived of a way to kill some time while grabbing a bite to eat. Sure, we've taken a couple of jabs at your choices, TOC, but some of your choices have been laughable. Would you really take your mother out for a burger at Riverview Tavern, home of both ends of the tomato? Does anyone in your office still maintain that there's no better turkey burger than the pucks served at S.R.O.? (Psst: there is, it's at May Street Market.)

We took our time, took some pictures, and elaborated beyond "perfectly delicious" in our reviews. Childish? Maybe. More responsible than recommending Jury's for the 10,000th time? I think so.

Naha

2009-07-08T15:10:00.001-07:00

Naha
500 N Clark St
Chicago, IL 60610
(312) 321-6242

Naha. Our white whale. We had literally been trying to get into this place for three years, the difficulty stemming from Naha's resoluteness in only serving the burger during lunchtime. And who really who has time to go to Naha for lunch? Certainly not us, and certainly not on the same day. But finally, we made it. And to our surprise the burger is still on the menu, for reasons that aren't entirely clear.

The theme of Naha is Mediterranean, I think? I don't know. A lot of stuff on the menu looked pretty good, but we were there for business (quick note: for some reason, Google Maps has this place listed in the South Loop, which is not the case...). Nat ordered his burger medium rare with bleu cheese, I ordered mine medium without cheese. They both came out done about the same...medium-rare-ish, and a tad on the juicy (read: drippy) side.

Nat's

Mine. Boring. Also, note the sun-dried tomato. Nat correctly noted that if we were served a tomato that looked like that [during summer] at a lesser venue, we probably would have been disgusted.

Well before the burgers came out, the condiments arrived (Is this getting to be a common practice?): some mayo, ketchup, and grilled onions, which, I'm sorry to say, just looked like worms.

I also requested "yellow" mustard, which I meant as in, distinct from "grey" mustards. Something of the Chicago hot dog variety. Is that pedestrian of me? At any rate, what they brought out was below, certainly fancier/grey-er than I expected, and certainly not worth getting into with the very competent waiter:

Is this yellow?

The burgers, all told, were good, above average, a solid "B" grade. Nat reported that the bleu cheese was stellar. And we both really liked the sea-salted buns. A nice touch. I mean, they're certainly not worth the pricetag, but I understand they have a reputation to keep (Naha). It's not exactly clear why the burger is on the menu, amongst seemingly far superior/more interesting options, but perhaps they're protecting themselves against the pickiest/least adventurous lunchtime diners. The burgers came with standard fries that were sort of--wait for the triple-mixed metaphor--peppered with parsely, which these days is sort of a red herring for me. Just give me fries, no funny business.

Oh, we also ordered this house-made hibiscus raspberry tea, which ended up completely stealing the show. It was perfectly sweetened and very fresh-tasting. Pretty much made the entire visit worth it.

And these candies (strawberry gummy thing and chocolate tofu?!) presented with the bill were a nice touch.

Can't say we'll be back, but it was a nice visit as a one-off.

O'Donovan's

2009-06-01T10:10:00.001-07:00

2100 W. Irving Park
Chicago, IL 60618
773.478.2100

O'boy, could we have done without a trip to this place, which is an overgrown Irish pub/sports bar (with two outside seating areas) in the North Center neighborhood. As we reach the end of the list, restaurants are being picked pretty much at random. I happened to know where O'Donovan's was, so it got the nod for an early lunch over Memorial Day weekend.

Click for the large size - note that all burgers come with "fires." Debateable.

Adam got the standard, and I got mine with bacon and cheddar.

We'd forgotten what category the O'Donovan's burger had been mentioned under---turns out it's the fourth-place cheap burger, available for $2 on Mondays with a drink. (Time Out cites a "peppery kick" that would prove nonexistant.)We were paying Saturday prices, but I don't think it would have mattered. It was pretty bad, along the lines of the McCormick and Schmick's $2 burger. Things were looking promising when the waitress asked us how we wanted our burgers cooked (medium for both of us). But we got these charred-out pucks:

This kind of patty just cannot be cooked anything rarer than well-done. Just sad. Why bother? The bun was lightly toasted and a little stale. At least we're in decent-tomato season. Fries are forgettable McDonalds clones. It will come as no surprise that a Sysco truck was unloading box after box through the back during our meal.

Two things saved the morning from being a total waste. First: O'Donovan's makes a really good bloody mary.

All essential elements (salt-pepper sand, salami, pickled vegetables, 6 oz. beer back) are present.

What makes a big, dumb beer garden care about their bloody mary but neglect about their burger? Everything tasted fresh, with an agreeable (read: noticable) spice level. I think these are a big-ticket item, but there was "a problem" getting our order into the computer and we weren't charged for these, which was the second good thing that O'Donovan's has going for it. Consequently, I have no idea how much these cost, but they'd go for $10 most places, and getting them free was about the best trick O'Donovan's could have possibly pulled on us. That being said, even for $2, there's just nothing to recommend about this burger.

Rhapsody

2009-04-15T13:13:00.000-07:00

Rhapsody
(312) 786-9911
65 E. Adams St.
Chicago, IL 60603

I knew that if I waited long enough, the salmon burger that TOC recommended at Rhapsody would disappear. Being a avowed salmon-hater, I was not looking forward to this one. But indeed, three years later, Rhapsody had the common decency to change their menu and replace the salmon burger with something else (TOC recommendation be damned!) We could have skipped the place altogether, but the “dry aged” burger with slaw remoulade slaw, onion jam and cypress grove cheddar advertised on their website menu sounded worth checking out.

We dined in the lounge, which is a very inviting setting. Definitely caught the pre-symphony crowd, which consisted of a slew of Lois Weisberg contemporaries that all looked worthy of appearing on advanced style. We started off with the duck nachos (that the online menu lists as accompanied by goat horn peppers, butter kasse cheese, cilantro and black beans…does that not look great in print?), which were too intriguing to pass up. I was a little underwhelmed, not expecting the cheese to be as thin and, well, buttery as it was. Also expected a bit more zip from the peppers, but what do I know about goat horn peppers...

Then it was time for the burger. Eyeing the creation from both the top and bottom gave it the appearance of this famous old-woman/young-woman illusion. It looked much more appetizing from above, but from the bottom the weight of the burger, it's relative greasiness, and the moistness of the other ingredients really seeped through the bun.

I liked the burger in the beginning, but the more it went on, the worse it got. By the end, mine had completely crumbled and was totally disjointed (for the record, Nat's stayed in tact). Also, the lettuce made no sense. Yes, I know that lettuce is customary, but the remoulade/slaw/jam combination, compounded by lettuce just made the whole dish a bit "softcore" for my tastes. Also, it didn't taste "dry-aged" as advertised, but to be honest I couldn't tell you what a dry-aged burger is supposed to taste like.

The fries were of reasonable quality, but were totally killed by the excess of parsely and salt sprinkled on them. We are talking copious amounts of salt, like, crystals all over my fingers. The sad, but truthful epitaph to this visit is that I felt really sick when I got home. And I felt sick the next day as well. Rhapsody has some intriguing things going on with their menu, and I would certainly hit them up for a drink before the symphony, but otherwise I can see no real reason for returning.

Perry's Deli

2009-03-10T17:38:00.000-07:00

www.perrysdeli.com
180 N Franklin St
Chicago, IL 60606
(312) 372-7557

Although we've been anything but rapid or on-pace, Adam and I are nevertheless entering the home stretch of the Project, which is to say that (1) we've only got a handful of places that we still need to hit, and (2) we're down to the places that, for whatever reason, we've been putting off for over two years. I just searched my Gmail to confirm that Adam and I have been talking for over a year about getting to Perry's, a Loop deli with hours that make it all but inaccessible to anyone who doesn't work downtown.

Although I don't really have enough experience to justify this, I have a theory that Perry's is the bizarro Stage Deli. Where the Stage is derided by locals, Perry's has a 30-person line going out the door. Celebrities (supposedly) can't leave the Stage alone, whereas Perry's, decorated mainly with movie posters, lacks endorsements, even of the TV-anchor sort. The Stage's sandwiches are expensive and huge due to an overall scaling-up of a multi-meat sandwich; Perry's seems to prefer increasing the amount of a single ingredient to absurdity and beyond. To wit, Adam's "BLT."

Aside from taking treyf to a new level, I don't see what the point of this sandwich is. It probably had 3/4 of a pound of thick, apparently deep-fried, seriously salty bacon on mushy rye with forgettable vegetables---just not what a BLT ought to be. It's almost like Perry's was out to prove something.

Counterpoint: Adam has been to Perry's before and has described their bacon as "the best bacon [he's] ever had on a sandwich," and who am I to tell him otherwise. I just can't deal with bacon as a main course.

My pastrami with swiss; pretty forgettable. The pastrami was of the cut-too-thin, left-sweating-in-a-heating-tray variety and it tasted mostly of grease (andsuchsmallportions). I got maybe two thin deli slices of cheese on there; their contribution was negligable. Perry's takes a Subway-style approach to sandwich assembly, so I have no one but myself to blame for the handful of shredded lettuce on top.

But Time Out Chicago chose Perry's for the quality of their shakes, apparently the third best in the city. Here ya go: a chocolate malt.

As we've mentioned, there's not a lot to say about these. Mine wasn't very chocolatey and it wasn't very malty. This place is not any kind of shake destination. Due to the textural contrast the bits and the rest of it, I've come to believe that Oreo is the superlative shake flavor, and Perry's doesn't even offer it. Because there's a line out the door most afternoons, you have to order your shake with your sandwich, which puts me out. There's a gentleman's disagreement within the Project as to whether it's okay to treat a shake as a beverage: Adam prefers to, I would rather not. That said, it wasn't like I was missing an opportunity: Perry's carries some Dr. Brown's sodas, but not Cel-Ray, which is such an amateur mistake* but not really at issue here.

My beef is not really with Perry's, which has been around forever and has a loyal clientele and, y'know, "could be worse." I just cannot believe that Time Out Chicago picked this place. This is simply not one of the best five places in Chicago to get a shake; I doubt Perry himself would disagree. What about Margie's? Hell, what about Hot Chocolate? Out of all of the weird places we've been sent to, this one irks me the most. It's like giving elaborate, fake directions to a stranger rather than just admitting that you don't know where the CSO is. If I'd purchased the issue, this recommendation in particular would have me writing in for a refund.

*I think even Eleven City Diner has Cel-Ray. Seriously, what's it cost to keep a case collecting dust in the back room? It's not like you're going to offend anyone with its presence.

Tavish

2009-01-12T10:30:00.000-08:00

Tavish
1335 W Wrightwood Ave
Chicago, IL 60614
(773) 529-8888

If you are a fairly middling establishment in the middle of a gigantic metropolis with no distinguishing qualities, you can either embrace what you are, or pretend to be something you are not. And Tavish is certainly doing the former. They have blown up to the size of a young child the print-out of their #2 ranking for miniburgers on TOC's list and put it on the window. This endorsement faces an equally-sized plug from the Chicago Tribune, which looks considerably older than the TOC list (hmmmm). Not too cool to act like they didn't care, I immediately appreciated Tavish's swagger in showing off "what they got."

About 6-8 of us occupied the front be-television-ed room, but the entire place was massively long, resembling a Viking ship, somewhere that a Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes meeting wouldn't be out of place (or in Nat's terms, "if Darwin's were a crackhouse"). On to the burgers...

[Tavish under the bright lights]

One strange discrepancy between TOC's write-up and Tavish's menu is that the miniburgers were served as three, not four (as TOC suggested). Fries (what looked to be oven-fried potato chips) accompanied the burgers for a total cost of $8. The burgers themselves, I enjoyed quite a bit. They were done perfectly medium (although we weren't asked how we wanted them prepared) and were at an optimal level of moistness--they were not greasy at all (note: I like to err on the side of dry). The buns were lightly toasted and the pickles were pickles. I liked the fry-chips more than Nat did and thought they contributed to the overall stoic dinginess of the atmosphere.

The owner was sufficiently jolly enough to offer us free shots (which he seemed to be enjoying as well). They apparently had run out of Jim Beam so we were pleasantly served shots of Jack Daniels ("his brother") instead. You know what you should do if you own a dimly lit neighborhood place that is occupied by seven people on a snowy Wednesday night during a recession?

Offer free shots.

Now, to reveal the truth of this mission, we planned to grab miniburgers as a mere appetizer before hitting the newly opened Five Guys in Lincoln Park. Five Guys, a legendary burger chain from the DC area is a much welcome addition to Chicago. Nat's Alexandria-VA roots allowed him multiple meals at the original Five Guys, but for me it was my first time. The Tavish burgers were more filling than I expected so I only finished half of my burger, but I was seriously impressed. Despite the average-tasting fries and somewhat medical atmosphere (cold and fluorescent), this place is now a definite destination spot.

[Five Guys in all its glory]

I ordered mine with bacon tomato, onions, ketchup, mustard, and pickles, which was served to me as a more conservative/stable version of a Thats-a-Burger. I should mention Nat noted that the Chicago creation differed significantly in this regard from the original version (i.e. our buns remained fully intact). It was a delicious beast, and a great value (the diverse array of free toppings is a huge plus). Now I wouldn't say I would drive north all the way North for Five Guys, but if one was located in my neighborhood, I would get extremely fat.

The Hopleaf

2008-10-12T19:30:00.000-07:00

www.hopleaf.com
5148 N Clark St
Chicago, IL 60640
(773) 334-9851

As far as Adam and I are concerned, Andersonville might as well consist solely of The Hopleaf, Simon's, and some theater that Andy used to go to. I know that there are other places that are deserving of a closer look (Tre Kronor [edit: not in Andersonville!], Marigold), but we're this far north so rarely that it's unlikely we would take the chance on an unknown quantity. I'd been to The Hopleaf several times before, but I hadn't eaten there in well over a year, so we steeled ourselves against the notorious wait times and made the trek on a Tuesday evening.

The Hopleaf is a Belgian beer bar in the front and a dim, cozy restaurant serving vaguely Belgian bar food in the back. You can order food in the bar, and you can order the beers in the restaurant, which is the better choice if you don't want to compete for service. The beer list is among the most impressive in the city (although, just for the record, I've got to give the edge to the Map Room when it comes to really interesting stuff, like oddball Cantillion guezes).

I feel compelled to apologize for this review, because I really have nothing very critical and/or funny to say about this place. The flipside of the long wait times is that the dining room isn't loud or crowded. Our waiter was efficient and appropriately friendly without being cloying. The bussers kept us supplied with crusty bread to soak up liquids---but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The Hopleaf is known for their mussels, served steamed in either a white ale-and-herbs broth or what sounds like a Thai curry with coconut and ginger. I've only ever had the former, and I kind of doubt I'll ever make it to the latter, because the ale preparation is just ridiculously good. LTHers report some variability in the quality of the mussels, but I've never come across a bad one. (These smoke the version at Sweets and Savories, btw.) You really just have to order these if you come here. Adam and I split an order as an appetizer.

These are available as pictured, For One ($11), or For Two ($20) with a corresponding heap of frites.

Enlarge to show texture.

These are pretty good. The one thing they're not, though, is crisp---they're sort of limp and very tender inside, and they're also pretty absorbent, which is really what we were looking for. These fries plus the leftover mussel broth equals two-thirds of the best poutine man could ever hope to make. They are accompanied by an aoili that I'm pretty sure is just Hellman's and garlic, but it's nevertheless pretty much perfect.

These fries are also not served "in a cocktail shaker." I have no idea where TOC got that one.

We also tried the pork belly confit (it is 2008, after all), a maple syrup-rubbed hunk of crispy, fatty bacon. No complaints. Tasty for sure, but not transcendent, and your $10 is better spent on almost anything else served here.

If you're at all surprised that we both ordered the brisket plate with a side of stilton macaroni and cheese, you obviously haven't been reading this blog for very long.

This was really very good. It's hard to tell from the picture, but that brisket's about four 1/2" slices deep. A little smoky and a little fatty, it really hit the spot. The mac and cheese was also pretty good,with a definite bleu-cheese funk---I'm sure I could make it better myself, but seeing as how we'd already had plenty of fries, this side was very welcome.

SRO

2008-09-24T17:57:00.000-07:00

610 S Dearborn St.
Chicago, IL
312-360-1776

First thought: Standing. Room. Only. Nat, is this place formal? Do you think there will be a line?

Second thought: Man, I'm so sick of hamburgers. Really looking forward to the turkey burger as a change of pace.

Now, keep in mind, this was the ONLY turkey burger on the whole TOC list of five non-beef burgers. Using transitive logic, I'm taking that to mean this SRO turkey burger is being presented to me as the best turkey burger in the entire Chicagoland area. And with turkey burgers--moreso than with hamburgers--it seems like the possibilities for spice-centric creativity are endless.

We met up with Masur (the Shay of CBP) and an ominous separate party, a friend of Masur's who has lived upstairs from SRO for eight years but whom has only eaten their once. It seemed that the management was so rude on her one visit that in warranted never returning. Not a good sign, but we went forth with our mission. Stepping inside, Masur noted that the place reminded him of the Peach Pit on 90210. A fair assessment. There was definitely some Pop Tate-esque ambiance to it that was very pleasantly complimented by sports decor, specifically a signed jersey of Dennis Rodman's in the men's bathroom.

Nat and I ordered the Turkey burgers with fries while Masur ordered a normal cheeseburger with bacon and onions. Neither automatically came with fries, so we ordered those as well. When the burgers arrived, I had a brief moment of confused contemplation in which I wondered whether to put ketchup on a turkey burger (I hadn't had one in years), and I ultimately decided yes whil also noticing the surprising dearth of other condiments available.

The verdict simple and plain was that this was a dry, flavorless burger. It tasted more like a poorly done hamburger than anything distinctively bird-like, it was easily drowned out by just a small slap of ketchup and mustard, and the bun and extras did it no favors. Initially, I appreciated that the lettuce was chopped instead of in tact and serving as some unwieldy condiment boat, but then I realized that it was just stuff out of a bag. There was no freshness to anything being served.

[Apologies for the bad photos of turkey burgers, but you get the idea]

The fries were a disgrace. If fries aren't included with the burger, one should really get some sort of fried potato beyond a mere defrosted crinkle. The place didn't completely strike out, however. Masur reported that the bacon-onion cheeseburger was pretty decent.

[The SRO bacon, cheese, onion jumpoff]

[The Worm tribute was much appreciated]

So I am left wondering as we have so many times if we simply hit this place on an off night. For a place that boasts "Chicago's one and only turkey burger" on their website and that has been voted to not only TOC's list, but also by CBS Chicago as having the top turkey burger in the city, I am more shocked than I was disappointed. It was as if someone told me that Two Weeks Notice was a film masterpiece and then I had to see it, then...seeing it. As Harry Allen once told me, hype is truly something not to be believed.

The Grafton

2008-08-05T09:42:00.000-07:00

4530 N. Lincoln Ave
Chicago, IL
773-271-9000

After our 8,000-calorie snacks at Max's, Adam and I rolled over to Lincoln Square (about half a mile north of Jury's) to see whether there was anything remotely special about the burger at The Grafton, one of at least ten prototypical Irish pubs within about a mile of each other. (Celtic Crown, also on our list, is the tenth---stay tuned.) We wandered around the restaurant unnoticed before we decided to seat ourselves in a booth by the kitchen and futz with our phones for a few minutes.

$7.95 buys you the burger, lettuce, tomato, and fries. Other toppings---even onions!---are 50 cents apiece. You can upgrade the fries to onion rings or a salad for $1. A side of curry sauce costs 50 cents. Napkins were free as of this writing. We ordered burgers (mine, medium rare with bleu cheese; Adam's medium with onions) and one side of curry sauce. (We received and were charged for two.)

Because we were sitting by the kitchen, we actually noticed that our burgers were ready well before anyone employees of The Grafton did. A busboy eventually picked them up, circled the restaurant, returned to our table, and then got the hell out of there before we realized how much our orders had suffered. Just look at the impenetrable skin that developed on the curry sauce:

Isn't that horrible? The fries were lukewarm by this point, but they're identical to the fries served everywhere else in the entire world, so we couldn't be too disappointed.

The tomato slice was pretty good (hard to screw up a decent tomato this time if the year); the limp mesclun added nothing. This patty's got some size to it, with a respectable amount of char and a generous serving of bleu cheese. The meat was a cut above what we expected; Adam dubbed it a better version of the Select Cut burger due to substantial sirloin flavor. I found mine to be drier than I would have liked, and decidedly cooked past medium rare.

My bun made it about halfway through the meal before falling apart. Putting the tomato on the bottom couldn't have helped. For the life of me, I can't figure out why places do this.

The best part of the whole experience? We've now put the Pub Burger category to bed.

Max's Italian Beef

2008-07-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

5754 N Western Ave
Chicago, IL 60659
(773) 989-8200

More fries this week---but not just any fries, Ghetto Fries, which are average, frozen fries made "ghetto" with the addition of Merkt's cheese sauce, giardiniera, chopped onions, "gravy" (I think this is just giardiniera oil), and barbecue sauce. They are available at Max's Italian Beef, a pretty typical Italian beef/Chicago dog restaurant across Western from the Rosehill Cemetery.

These things get way too much attention for being standard-issue fries with a bunch of cheap condiments on top (to be fair, they'll only cost you $3.15). They're allegedly named for a former employee who went by "Ghetto Girl" and are decidedly not an attempt tap into the always-profitable stereotype of poor people putting Merkt's on everything (cf. Hecky's Mutt; Ghetto Latte). Anyway, these are exactly the sum of their parts---I'm a little mystified by a place hanging their hat on a dish so easily replicated by anyone with access to a Fixins Bar, but they've been around for 50 years, I think the sweetness of the sauce, the sharpness of the cheese, and the saltiness of the fries are supposed to play off each other, but they didn't do that so much as just kind of decompose into a homogeneous mass.

One note: these were really, really greasy.

Adam tried these Loaded Fries, which are loaded---not with socioeconomic overtures---but mozzarella, onion, bacon, and ranch dressing. They, too, are an uninspired pile of stuff. Without a base of good fries, I don't see the appeal.

For what it's worth, they were less greasy.

Morton's

2008-06-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

Morton's
65 East Wacker Place
Chicago, IL 60601
312-201-0410

I had a really good date at Morton's once. It was probably the least impressive steak I've eaten in Chicago (David Burke's, Keefer's, and G&G are preferred), yet the meal also included probably the best desserts I've ever had in my life: the Grand Marnier Souffle and the legendary chocolate cake.

My feelings on the establishment before our burger trip, therefore, were one hundred percent 50%. We had actually intended that day to go to Saltaus for their lamb burger, but (surprise surprise) Saltaus no longer is in business. This makes at least to my knowledge three places that have closed since the Time Out list first came out (and Hackney’s can’t even get a mention??? 70 years STRONG IN THE GAME).

So, miniburgers it is. Show us what you got. Going to a respectable restaurant strictly for the purpose of downing miniburgers automatically puts one in an uncomfortable position for two reasons (1) One worries about offending/disappointing the staff by only ordering the piddliest thing on the menu (this is all probably exacerbated by my paranoia over reverse ageism and the fact that I often look like crap when hitting up restaurants right after work), and (2) As with any low-priced item at a somewhat higher end spot, one must be continuously vigilant about any “strings attached.” Like, what sort of drink special do I have to order to reap the benefits of the miniburgers? At what not-quite-dinner time do I have to arrive to obtain the miniburgers? Where am I allowed to sit if I want to eat miniburgers as a single item?

As I’ve gotten on in years I realize that I would pay a flat fee just to avoid all of this nudging and handwringing. Thankfully, Morton's gave us none of that business. We took a seat at the bar, were treated like adult homo erectuses, allowed the happy hour menu of burgers at half price (I think we ended up paying under 20 bucks apiece for burgers, [overpriced] beers, and fries), and were given no odd looks. The burgers were fine--probably the least greasy beef miniburgers we've tried so far. I lamented the fact that miniburgers really shouldn't have so much lettuce on them (seems like filler), and Nat quickly reminded me that he had complained about the Poag Mahone's burgers being too barren. There is truly no pleasing us.

The only conundrum was that Nat ordered the bleu cheese fries, and I the regular fries. As the bleu cheese fries constitute a separate dish during bar menu time (or whatever), Nat actually received more fries than I did, for the same price. All of which means I could have ordered bleu cheese fries--"hold the cheese"--and received more fries. This scenario is truly the Monty Hall Problem of the Chicago Burger Project. All in all, the experience really gave a good vibe on Morton's, and I think it is my new 100% foolproof Loop option during happy hour-ish time.

Sweets & Savories

2008-04-30T16:19:00.000-07:00

1534 West Fullerton Avenue
Chicago, IL 60614
(773) 281-6778

Between a massive laptop malfunction, an insane work schedule, and a couple of unexpected locksmith fees, April was the cruelest month for Adam. Thank God for his parents, who, not wholly unlike Solomon, considered his situation and said, "There's nothing we can do but buy you dinner." In an attempt to maximize efficiency, we decided to take that offer to Sweets & Savories, one of the last remaining burgers that we expected to be any good. We left feeling physically ill. What a disappointment.

I'd been to S&S once before, for their $60 Monday tasting menu. I don't really remember the specifics, but I seem to recall enjoying myself. In the interest of disclosure, my girlfriend had the single worst brunch experience of her life at S&S and is still able to conjure up unprecedented amounts of ire for aggressively bad service, but she did enjoy the food. We were able to OpenTable a 7 PM reservation for a Friday night on Thursday, which for a restaurant of this size (the dining room fits maybe 30 people) could be taken as a bad sign.

Things were going wrong from the minute we arrived. The restaurant was 90% empty, although half the room was reserved for a large party that would begin to arrive as we were leaving, so we were given the option of one of two tables crammed against the front window. Adam ordered his usual Negroni, which completely flummoxed our waitress, an odd reaction from a place that had their signature "pomegranate Negroni" written up in Esquire a year ago. She went to look it up. I ordered a dry Manhattan, and when they finally came, both drinks were excellent.

There's a menu on the S&S website, but don't expect it to reflect what's actually being offered on a given night; there were about five appetizers and five entrees to choose from, all a few dollars more than listed online.. We split a bowl of mussels and an arugula salad. The mussels were very fresh and were served bathed in a light lemony broth---quite good. We had to split the salad---consisting of nothing more than arugula leaves, a sprinkling of some shredded cheese, and lemon juice, for $10---ourselves at the table, which I hate.

The kitchen and the waitstaff desperately need to work on their timing. Halfway through our appetizers, we had to fend off busboys who were trying to clear our table "because the burgers are done." When we relented, the burgers ($20 apiece) were quickly brought to our table, but we had to wait several minutes for our $8 platter of duck fat frites (served with a smear of an admittedly tasty apricot and date chutney). They were fine, but naturally they called to mind the duck fat fries at Hot Doug's (~$3.00 for a similar-sized serving, available on Fridays and Saturdays), and they just weren't as good.

The burgers themselves, Time Out's Number One Dressed-Up Burger: "American Kobe" beef with a blob of "duck liver pate" on top and truffle-y mayonnaise on the side:

This patty is interchangeable with the ones that we've had at Park Grill and Rockit---which is to say, it's juicy, quality stuff, but no better than well-made examples of non-"Kobe" meat (as served at Kuma's) and not even touching the steak-like qualities of the Rosebud's burger. The wink-wink-nudge-nudge "duck liver pâté" may thrill some with its illicitness, but it doesn't do much for the taste. Think about it: we're looking at about a 10:1 beef-to-foie ratio. However, this is not to say that this topping is inconsequential: while it's not adding much taste, it's adding grease and fat, which definitely contributed to the gut-bombed feeling we'd both have in about ten minutes. This burger is just too big for it to just taste like meat: it would benefit greatly from some sharp bleu cheese, or even just a spoonful of mustard, which I'm sure would be simply heresy at Sweets & Savories. (Our waitress did inquire how we were enjoying the food, and instead of letting us answer, scoffed in an unendearing way: "I know I HARDLY have to ask."*)

A word about pricing: this is the most expensive burger we've had, and it comes without fries. $20 is getting into the "ridiculous" category. On Wednesdays, this burger is $10---and I'm so down on this place, I can't tell if I'm hating just to hate anymore---but rather than enticing me, this just made me feel like I was being ripped off. A hamburger really should never cost much more than $10. I resent your MSRP games, Sweets & Savories.

We grasped for redemption with a couple of desserts (an apple tart and some kind of chocolate-cake thing) that were nothing special. Our total bill was north of $120; I mentally committed seppuku while thinking of the meals that would have bought us at Gene & Georgetti's or Avec.

I can't impugn everything about this place, but man, do I want to; that's how much this burger offends me. But the fact is, some of what we had was very good, and I absolutely believe that things we didn't have are very good as well. So, why shoot yourself in the foot with weirdly insolent service and prices that are simply skewing too high?

*We would hear the same waitress confirm to another diner that the fries are cooked in duck fat "because it's healthier."

Riverview Tavern

2008-04-29T10:30:00.000-07:00

Riverview Tavern
1958 W. Roscoe St.
Chicago, IL 60657
773-248-9523

Sometimes I just don't get Chicago. There's seemingly a million places like the Riverview Tavern. ESPN HD. Bar food. Some innocuous name...In fact the name was so generic that Nat and I almost missed the place, instead stopping at some place called the Westside Grill or the North Street Bar, or the Lakewood Pub. And yet, our fearless guides TOC decided that this place miraculously housed one of the best 50 burgers in the city.

Let's cut to the chase. I began by asking our adorable waitress how the Bloody Mary was. Her response? "We can make you one." Quite the endorsement. On the other hand, I thought, screw it, I wanted a Blood Mary, so I got one. I was watered down and amateurish, much like the Riverview itself. The rest of the night proceeded with Nat and I ordering decent Buffalo Wings and burgers--Nat got The Bobs, a "rollercoaster of flavor" served with cheddar, jalapenos, and chili. I got mine plain.

[My burger]

[The Bobs]

So, like most things that Nat takes pictures of, "it photographs well," but was completely standard. Nat likened it to the couch that your friend lets you crash on, which is kind of uncomfortable, but you're really tired so you just sleep on it anyway, and it's *fine.* I, on the other hand, have scarcely a thought on the thing. The patty was suspiciously round, as though they cut the meat with a compass. The bun was pretty good. The fixins were despicable, highlighted by these pathetic tomatos pictured below. BOTH Nat and I received the "ends," which really encapsulates the low-ness of the standards here. Oh, and the fries got really old really fast, as though they were sitting out for a long time in the kitchen.

[Seriously? We BOTH got the ends?]

The question I left with was why does this place exist? I guess it commemorates some cool old amusement park, but then again, Barnum & Bagel commemorates an entire circus, and it shut down. The experience as a whole was similar to stopping somewhere on a cross-country roadtrip, after days of eating Subway, and being surprised at how not-bad the place was. In other words, we are thankful to cross the Riverview off the list once and for all.

Feed

2008-03-11T15:24:00.000-07:00

2803 W Chicago Ave
Chicago, IL 60622
(773) 489-4600

Major annoyance directed at TOC this week. In an earnest effort to attack some of the less-anticipated burgers, Adam and I resolved to check out the---sigh---$13 "buffalo sliders" at Fixture. We parked the car, walked over to the restaurant, and found, to our surprise, this restaurant of no repute had ceased to be, despite any kind of notice on the website.

Did we wait too long? Or just long enough? It's all in the eye of the beholder...I must confess, I was less-than-excited to drop the kind of cash that I knew we would at a restaurant we didn't care about and probably wasn't great (suggested by middling reviews on LTH), and it would seem that the market took care of that for us. In honor of the pending recession, we turned the car around and headed south to investigate the burger at Feed, a eminently solid rotisserie chicken meat-and-three restaurant.

I've had plenty of fine meals at Feed, usually plates of perfectly roasted half-chickens and a few fine sides of the collards/mac and cheese/cornbread variety. Everything's been between somewhere between fine and really good. Were it not for the Project, I doubt I'd ever waste a trip to Feed on a hamburger any more than I'd have the chicken at Rosebud, but here we were.

As Adam noted, they take the chicken theme very seriously:

Both a Big Burger (1/3 lb.; $6.50) and a Really Big Burger (1/2 lb.; about a dollar more) are available. Cheese costs $.50; bleu cheese costs $1. We both placed orders for regular Bigs with the exceedingly friendly counter-guy (note: Feed is cash-only). By default, burgers come with fries and slaw as sides, but you can upgrade to any of the others for $.50.

After about ten minutes, our burgers were up.

Sadly, this wasn't a very impressive showing. The meat was grilled to our specifications, sufficiently juicy without being greasy, but the lettuce and tomato on the side were sadly representative of the late-winter season, and as Adam put it, "we've seen this bun before." It's a really common kaiser-style roll that's too soft to not soak up juice (even when toasted, as we saw it here). There wasn't really enough bleu cheese to make any sort of impression.

Fries, however, were much more impressive: crisp exterior, soft interior, indicative of a fryer knowledgeable in the proper two-stage cooking technique. Feed features an impressive assortment of condiments, including Adam's coveted yellow mustard, malt vinegar, sriracha, and El Yucateco habanero sauce. It's always a treat to find a place with slaw that's not soaked in mayo, and Feed's is a pleasantly vinegary variety.

Still irritated, I placated myself with a slice of Feed's homemade peach pie. All pie-relevant superlatives are applicable here. The filling was light and sweet, but not too sweet (far from the jellied crap in most commercially available pies). The crust was nothing relevatory, but crisp and flaky, and decidedly worth the calories.

Select Cut Steakhouse

2008-03-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

Select Cut Steakhouse
2808 N Halsted St.
Chicago, IL
(773) 244-1500

Oh, the things we do for burgers. Select Cut was one of those "Christ I'm hungry, I really hope this burger doesn't suck" places, and you know what? It didn't. But that's not really the point. Once you've eaten burgers at a rate of about one per every ten days over the past year, you start paying attention to detail, and the smallest things can upset the structure of the burger experience

In terms of ambiance, the place has nothing going for it, appearing to be in the midst of an identity crisis (I should mention that we--and everyone else--were seated in the front room, as the nicer looking dining room was seemingly being saved for something; who knows). I found the owner's children's paintings on the walls rather endearing, and if the place was selling itself as some sort of tradition-rich family establishment, it could have worked. But that wasn't the vibe they were going for. The place also could have attempted an air of "screw Gibson's and avoid the blue-haired guys scouring for impressionable women set, come to Select Cut to avoid all the chazarai, and just eat a good steak." But ah, the steak didn't look like it was holding its weight. Or, they could have gone with a simple old school "we are meat and potatoes" message, which I thought it was trying to do, but the intrusive dual TV screens at the bar and the blaring--I mean BLARING--contemporary rock ("Is this Train?" "Is this the Goo Goo Dolls?") really destroyed any attempts at "cool." Just lie to me, Select Cut. Pop in some Ultra Lounge compilation at least and you could improve the atmosphere greatly.

As far as food, Nat started out with a French Onion soup that appeared to do the job. I had an onion and tomato salad that was at best middling--Rosebud really sets the standards for delivering quality tomatos in the dead of winter, and Select Cut's were nowhere near that class. Kind of limp and watery. In terms of the burger, much is made (in reviews, mostly) about how the garnish is served on the side. ???? Is this a Thing? I feel like Select Cut isn't the only place to do it, and even if they are, how is this worth mentioning?

My burger was good. They also really play up the fact that this is a burger made from steak, but I wasn't overwhelmed by that particular flavor nor did I feel like I wax experiencing some out-of-burger experience. I finished it in about 250 seconds. I found the fries crisp and enjoyable, and to give respect where respect is due, they served me one of the best Martinis I've ever had in Chicago.

[Mine--not so bad]

Our night, however, was completely spoiled, however, by the presentation of Nat's burger. Whereas I ordered mine to be cooked medium, he ordered his medium rare, which materialized as a greasy blood bath of bun-soaking meat. There's really no comment to be made, you can see how this kind of killed our collective appetite.

Walking away from this experience, Nat proclaimed, "I am annoyed that a place can call itself a 'steak house' and apparently command $40 for a piece of beef and a la carte prices for sides." One other gripe include that the service was incredibly rushed--we received our burgers just minutes after getting into our appetizers. We can cut the server some slack though as she was friendly and seemed to be the only one working. Oh, also, this place is pimping Phil Vettel's name everywhere, on their website and even on their sign out front. Given Select Cut's proximity to Erwin, I am deeming this little sect of town Burger Bermuda Triangle, or Right Angle. Or something.

May Street Market

2008-02-13T19:50:00.000-08:00

1132 W. Grand Avenue
Chicago, IL
(312) 421-5547

Finally, a foray into TOC's non-beef burgers, and a pretty accomplished one at that. First of all, props are due to Adam for orchestrating a dinner that's been a long time coming. Like Naha and David Burke's Primehouse, May Street Market's burgers are a lunch-only item, which makes them nigh-on impossible for us to get to during a regular work week. A few weeks ago, Adam called to inquire whether we could special-order their trio of duck, venison, and turkey mini-burgers for dinner. Whoever Adam spoke to said that it wouldn't be a problem, but, of course, when he called today, the hostess was completely flummoxed by this request (some begrudging respect goes to Naha, where at least they haven't waffled about the fact that they're just NOT going to make their burger for us outside of lunch hours). Eventually, she called back and relented,* so we blue-plate-specialed a 5:30 reservation and braved I 90/94 traffic from Hyde Park.

Commenters on LTH have already noted that the casual-sounding "May Street Market" doesn't jibe with the white-tablecloth, Laguiole-flatware kind of place this is. (Entrees range from the mid-twenties to the mid-forties.) The room is nice, but lacks any kind of unique vibe.

We had some appetizers. We started with a "Maytag blue cheesecake" which was exactly that, served with spiced pecans and arugula. This is kind of *a thing* there, which is primarily why we tried it. It was very good: the cheese itself is quite creamy and worked well as a flavor in the filling. I'd really have liked to see this on the dessert menu as a kind of compromise between a cheese plate and a sweet desert; it's a pretty rich choice for an appetizer, but we were both pretty hungry, so it helped to stave that off.

Our waiter recommended the braised short rib, and I just knew (thanks to our waiter's suggestion that we might want to accompany it with soup) that our $15 wasn't going to buy us much meat.**

It came with some matchsticks of pear, and the menu referenced a braise of stout, chocolate, and cauliflower. There was nothing relevatory about it. We both ate our bite and a half, mentally paid homage to our Jewish mothers/grandmothers who'd made us copious amounts of brisket gratis, and moved on.

Here's where the kitchen made a great move: they sent out two servings of grilled octopus for us to taste.

Served on a "marscopone potato risotto" (a diced-potato salad with a blob of great marscopone) with a spicy tomato sauce and slices of pickled chili, this was the appetizer of the night. The little cephalopods were perfectly grilled, al dente to the bite, and the cool and warm aspects of the accouterments played off each other nicely.

Then, the burgers:

Clockwise: fries, duck, turkey, venison.

First, the turkey burger, topped with avocado: great. The meat was dark and fatty, and perfectly charred. We actually thought it was the duck burger (just because it tasted so good) until our waiter corrected us. Next, the duck: even better. Fatter, darker meat, topped with caramelized figs, Maytag blue cheese, and arugula. Lastly, venison: perfect. Just great. More interesting than most beefburgers we've had, without any of the negative game-y connotations of my few experiences with venison. The creativity of the toppings calls to mind Kuma's at its finest: wine-poached pears, goat's cheese, and pancetta.*** Simply a fantastic sandwich. Buns were good, slightly egg-y and sturdy. Fries were above average, crispy with the right amount of oil.

If you go to May Street Market for lunch, you have the option of ordering any one of these burgers as a full-size sandwich (the venison and the duck are $12 each; the turkey burger is $9) with fries, OR the plate of three mini-burgers for $18. With the appetizers, the sampler was the right amount of food for both of us, but only a couple of bites of each felt like a tease. I'll grab that venison first, but between the duck and the turkey, I think I'd make my decision based on what toppings I was feeling more than anything else. It's hard to describe; the turkey and the duck didn't taste the same so much as they both tasted equally good, which is amazing considering how much arbitrarily tastier duck is than turkey. You might not want to wait on this, though: Chef Cheswick, who was nice enough to come out and say hello, mentioned nonspecifically that he may be mixing up availability of the burgers and the hours that May Street is open for lunch.

The free appetizer got to us; we felt we had to try the desserts, and we were glad we did.

This is Adam's pistachio-semifreddo-Napoleon thing, with a great chocolate mousse, pistachio ice cream, and a cookie bottom. The chocolate was intense, and the whole arrangement really accentuated the pistachio taste.

I had three sorbets: that's an orange, a "cassis" (some kind of black currant flavor), and a grapefruit-champagne. All were excellent (the orange was particularly good---"It tastes just like an orange!" I said), and so far as it goes, among the best sorbets I've ever had, and a great end to the meal.

*In order to get this special treatment, we did have to mention the nature of the project, so it stands to reason that the kitchen paid particularly close attention to our orders, although MSM seems like a classy place, and from what I've read on LTH and elsewhere, I'd be surprised to hear about them cutting corners on another visit or with anyone else.

**At a certain point, prices for non-rare foods in small quantities just start to become ridiculous, and I'm sorry to say that I think that this dish is toeing this line. I'd be surprised if this was four ounces of meat. In size, it reminded us of a course of three pieces of lamb served as part of a tasting menu at Alinea---where each course averaged out to be around $8 apiece. Just saying.

**Typing this, I realize that Kuma's February burger, Lair of the Minotaur, is strikingly similar, consisting of bourbon-poached pears, brie, and pancetta. Again, just saying.

Smith and Wollensky

2008-01-20T19:53:00.001-08:00

Smith and Wollensky
318 N State St.
Chicago, IL 60610
(312) 670-9900

Ah, another tragedy. Forced to head to one of my favorite steakhouses for a burger. On a typical trip to S&W I prefer the cajun filet, but this trip was strictly business, so we headed downstairs where the grill is located (and where the burger is served). Given the proximity to the river, the decor of the downstairs area has a maritime feel, and was kind of cold, both literally and in ornamentation. The dank vibe and service that can best be summed up as "strange" did not exactly amp me for the burger.

Both Nat and I ordered appetizers. Nat got the exceptional tomato and onion salad, which is apparently as fresh during the dead of winter as it is at any time. And I got the pea soup. Bad decision. After a recent meat overload the previous weekend, I had pledged to balance my meats with vegetables, and thus pursued pea soup as my "veggie option." Unfortunately, the thing tasted like a bowl of meat, and was far too filling.

On to the burgers (depicted below). Nat ordered his with bleu cheese and I ordered mine plain. Both of them hovered in the ballpark of the Rosebud burger in ambition, but they simply lacked the pure power of what a steakhouse burger should be. Nat noted that the grain of the bun was off as well--a tad too mealy, which made the entire process somewhat of a chore. In honesty, I finished only 40% of my burger. In further honesty, I think I put too much Dijon mustard on the thing, which drowned out the taste of the meat.

Nat's

Mine

It should be known that S&W does not carry yellow mustard. I guess this is to be expected at more high-end places, but it's such a common condiment, I am still somewhat surprised whenever this occurs. Living in New York, obtaining yellow mustard in a restaurant seemed like finding the afikomen. I just don't understand why yellow mustard, like ketchup, is not omnipresent. One more condiment-related note, Nat and I are decidedly in agreement that dollops of ketchup/mustard served in a small dish are not only wasteful, but kind of gross. I would prefer not to have so much open air on my toppings, but what can you do.

I can spend but a sentence on the fries, noting that they held a lot of oil, tasted kind of good, and looked ridiculous being served in a chef's hat.

All in all, a forgettable meal, but I will be back to S&W for the filet.

Artopolis Bakery & Cafe

2008-01-10T20:27:00.001-08:00

www.artopolischicago.com
306 South Halsted Street
Chicago, IL 60661
(312) 559-9000

Hi, hi, hi, sorry; we're still here. Adam and I took some time off to celebrate the holidays and eat a few vegetables, but rest assured, we remain committed to eating the rest of these burgers, even though we're approaching some of the least-anticipated meals we've ever been faced with.

With that in mind, please excuse us for easing into 2008 with a fries place, Time Out's #2: Artopolis in Greektown. Unlike most of the well-known establishments in the neighborhood, Artoplis walks a weird line between cafeteria and sit-down restaurant. There's a guy behind the sneezeguard who'll welcome you as you approach him, but he'll tell you to sit down at a table, and a waitress will appear and hand you a menu. I have a feeling that all of this depends on when you show up; we came for a pre-dinner snack around 6:00 PM.

An order of "frites" costs $2.95. Here's what you get:

Feta and Dijon on the side.

Exciting, huh? It's times like these when I really regret foolheartedly deciding to eat the entire list.

Anyway, these fries are fine. They're exactly like McDonald's fries, and appropriately salted. The feta seemed fresh, but while it crumbled like feta, it didn't really taste much like feta, or much of anything else, for that matter. To my surprise, the Dijon had more of a kick than I'm used to, and I enjoyed it.

What, though, are you exactly supposed to do to combine these ingredients? Time Out ran this picture:

which is in no way helpful. I tried this:

before figuring out a strategy of dipping fries in mustard and then dragging them through the feta, which wasn't unpleasant, but, really, what's there to say?

Salt and Pepper Diner

2007-12-25T11:35:00.000-08:00

3537 N Clark St.
Chicago, IL 60657
(773) 883-9800

Ah yes, a Kuma's stop in "gotta finish off those top 5 shakes" clothing. To get the official blog biz out of the way, we entered S&P with low expectations and on a completely full stomach. Not to mention that it was below freezing outside and we had to endure the frenzied free Dewey Cox performance at the Cubby Bear to find (illegal) parking. Even with all those conditions at play, I have to say, the shake was damn good...and yes, I had the famed vanilla shake, as opposed to my confection of choice, a chocolate malt (see photo of Nat below).

A photo of a shake. My flash sucks.

The S&P shake gets major points for being much thicker than the standard fare (my #1 gripe re: shakes vs. malts). If it hadn't been so cold, I would have finished the whole thing, but I lost interest after about five minutes waiting of waiting on the Addison Red Line platform. Bottom line, good stuff, and I'd definitely hit this place up if I ever go to the Metro again.

On to Kuma's. After all the discussion on LTH about the (then) new items, the Goblin Cock and the Minsk, as well as the raves about the Brown Shuggah Beer, we were due for a trip.

The Minsk: Pastrami, Sauerkraut, Onions, Brown Mustard

The Goblin Cock:Bacon, Cheddar Cheese, ¼lb. Vienna Hot Dog, Tomatoes, Onion, Neon Green Relish, Sport Peppers, Pickles, Celery Salt Mustard

Nat got the Minsk, and he wished he had gotten the Goblin Cock (although I believe he reported the Minsk as solid). I can't really say much more than that the GC was tremendous. The perfect amount of each ingredient, the key being not too much cheese. I feel like excessive cheese, or bacon for that matter, would spoil the affect of the hot dog, which really serves its purpose as a "topping" rather than some meal-on-top-of-the-meal (as the Minsk appeared to be). What could have been a gimmick turned out to be a magnificent melding of meats. Only drawback is that it is kind of a challenge physically to eat, but the sturdy bun never fell apart.

Couple final notes: I wasn't completely enthralled by the Brown Shugga and it didn't give me the slightly added buzz I was expecting. Also need to mention that this was the best service either of us had ever had at Kuma's. Pacing was perfect. Food came out in a timely manner, waitress was accommodating of one person in our party arriving late. All food came out just as ordered. Really can't say enough about this place. Unfortunately the shakes list is dwindling down, and we'll have to find other excuses to make it back to Kuma's before we finish this project. Hopefully nobody would care or notice if we just replaced the Veggie burger visits with further Kuma's excursions.

Goose Island Brewpub

2007-11-14T20:39:00.000-08:00

ﾠ

1800 N Clybourn Ave
Chicago, IL 60614
(312) 915-0071

Prior to Time Out Chicago's list---hell, prior to Time Out Chicago---I'd become very familiar with their "legendary" Stilton and garlic burger, number five on the list of dressed-up burgers. The sandwich was introduced to me by surly commenter Eric a few years ago after an early morning autism-benefit walkathon with a great deal of fanfare. And, really, it was entirely appropriate: this a half-pound patty is coated with cracked peppercorns and grilled, then topped with Stilton, one of the stinkiest of the commonly available bleu cheeses, and cloves of roasted garlic, served on a pumpernickel bun with Dusseldorf mustard. As a matter of principle, I respected a brewpub that would serve, as their flagship burger, an amalgamation of such strongly flavorful ingredients. Subsequent Stilton burgers never had the same nap-necessitating effect, but were usually still pretty tasty.

In the last year or so, however, I've noticed a phenomenon of diminishing returns when I revisit this burger (which remains, along with the fish fry, one of two go-to items on Goose Island's menu). I'm sure some of this is the result of an increased tolerance, but I'm also sure the recipe has changed somewhat to tone this burger down for mass consumption, which just strikes me as silly, like cutting a durian fruit with Karo syrup so it can be served at Denny's. My general tactic for dealing with this has been to order it with extra garlic and extra Stilton and hope for the best.

Here's how it came, ordered as above, last week:

Notice the extra garlic on the side; good. Unfortunately, also notice the meager serving of cheese...sadly, this caused flavors to be off-balance.

There's a fundamental problem with the bun: it's too big, soft, and bready for all this stuff. At the very least, it should be grilled with some kind of fat before the burger's served to keep it from absorbing the meat, garlic, and cheese greases and disintegrating (and even as it does, there's so much bread that I ended up with small handful left over after everything else had been dispatched).

ﾠ

The fries, it should be apparent, are completely not-noteworthy.

The good news is that Goose Island is now offering a mini-Stilton that's about the size of a regular McDonald's hamburger and probably sufficient for most appetites, which also happens to compensate for the too-much-meat, too-much-bun paradox (Adam tried one as his first Stilton burger experience and didn't immediately pass out, so I can only assume the overall experience is significantly gentler).

In post-game discussion, Adam, a dyed-in-the-wool basic-hamburger man, admitted to some minor trepidation about trying the Stilton, but found it quite agreeable. For the hell of it, Adam also tried Goose Island's regular burger, an offering so emenently forgettable that you might as well be eating it for $1.95 at McCormick & Schmick's. Adam gave it a 70% for effort, but, really, that's no longer a passing grade in our books.

ﾠ

Rockit

2007-10-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

22 W Hubbard St
Chicago, IL 60610
(312) 645-6000

In the interest of full disclosure, I went into this meal fully prepared to absolutely hate it. I'd never been to Rockit, but friends of mine have for various reasons (that weren't necessarily born out of an actual desire to go), and the summary judgment hadn't been all that positive. (Check their website with your speakers on and tell me this is a place you'd actually like to have serve you a meal.) Adam had been there before, and found their regular burger ($11) to be satisfactory.

Time Out, of course, didn't choose that burger...they chose Rockit's $19 offering, a "Kobe" joint with brie, shallots, and "date aioli," served with "truffle fries." (Having to use that many scare quotes is a bad sign.) My impression was that this (like every other restaurant that serves purported-Kobe as low food) was a place that got by on business from the kind of uninformed diners who take their Champagne advice from rappers.

Regardless, we had to do it. We started the meal with a bloody mary apiece. They were simple but really pretty good, and they hit a great heat level, but the small, ice-filled glass and lack of significant garnish (two olives) didn't justify the $9 tag (that's $9 each, mind you).

You do not get to keep the glass.

Standard orders; mine medium-rare, Adam's medium.

This larger version is probably more helpful.

For all this stuff, it was remarkable how undistinguished the entire package was. The brie was very mild. The date relish (which was, for some unknown reason, applied to the bottom of the bun) provided some sweetness on the finish, but there wasn't enough to make much of an impression. The meat was really just meat (albeit meat correctly cooked to our specifications); so we're one more burger away from a New York Times trend piece on backlash against fake Kobe. I can make no claim as to the whereabouts of the shallots. My bun crumbled; Adam's held up okay (maybe mine wilted under my obvious lack of enthusiasm). The fries had a slight truffle taste, but I lost track of it after a few bites. Points are deducted for a weird airy consistency. I dunno; I guess this was a decent-enough hamburger, and maybe if it cost $8 I could get behind it, but it didn't and I can't.

I walked by someone eating the regular burger on my way out, and it really looked like it might be the better beast, at least from an aerial view: the pretzel bun looked like it could handle meat better than this one could.

Jury's

2007-10-15T21:17:00.000-07:00

Jury's
4337 N Lincoln Ave.
Chicago, IL 60618
(773) 935-2255

One of the most forgettable meals of my life, not because the food was all that bad, but because it literally lasted about 12 minutes. There was nothing memorable about my first trip to Jury's, leading me again to pose the question: what does the 5th best "classic" burger in Chicago really mean? Perhaps this project has spoiled me, and perhaps I no longer just want a classic burger. But it seems like a burger should have to do *something* more than simply present itself to earn top 5 status in anything.

Quick review of the food: I ordered a burger done medium with bacon and no cheese. The patty came back medium well, with a single strip of bacon, for which I paid $1.50. Nat ordered a patty melt, also medium, which oddly was served looking mighty pink in the corner, yet felt somehow hardened, not rare as it would appear. Nat also ordered the onion rings, which were reportedly terrible...and there were only three of them! (cue Annie Hall). Our eating companion, Andrew Walter, ordered a burger with Jalapeno cheese (sorry, I'm just not up to search for the "enye" on my computer right now). Consensus seemed to be that the burgers were average, and the steak fries were the only real standout item. Should mention as well that the bun was kind of terrible, really just a non-factor...I expected more as it was listed as a "gourmet bun" on their menu.

[Eating companion Andrew Walter received clarification that Jalapeno cheese = essentially Pepper Jack.]

[If you click on this photo to blow it up, you can see the weird pink nub on the right side of the patty.]

Everything in addition to the food at Jury's seemedcompletely pleasant, with a friendly staff and a clientele that resembled a northside equivalent to the crowd at the delightful Petey's Bungalow. They also apparently serve good coffee, advertising both Intelligensia and Illy, the latter of which has proven somewhat difficult for me to find around the city. Bottom line, though, was that this was a completely unmemorable meal, which sort of invoked an angst in me directed toward the fact that places like Jury's get by on Chicago meat-and-potatoes kitsch alone. What's the point if you can't back it up with at least some hearty substance?

Oh, also, as we were about to leave we heard a loud sizzling coming from the kitchen that was literally about 30 feet away. This was some seriously blaring sizzling, like an egg placed on the sun. It was so intense we weren't sure whether it was actual cooking or some sort of piped-in spooky sounds intended to compliment their early Halloween decorations. A quick peek behind the kitchen door revealed it to be actual sizzling, but it was not clear exactly what was being cooked. Needless to say, if I ever return to Jury's, I will do so with the purpose of ordering whatever the sizzling thing is. Guesses are welcome in the comments section below.

Hot Chocolate

2007-10-06T11:25:00.000-07:00

1747 N Damen Ave
Chicago, IL 60647
(773) 489-1747

Back in a big way this week, with one of the best burgers I've had in a while, a sleeper right under my own nose: Bucktown's Hot Chocolate, owned and operated by renowned local pastry chef Mindy Segal. Hot Chocolate's been open for three years, and I think it's safe to say that they're known primarily for desserts (which are great). Dinner gets respect on LTH, but I can only speak to the burger...and what a burger it is.

Started the night off with a Manhattan, only because it was listed on the menu, implying that it was a specialty. I ordered it up and received it in a rocks glass. When I sent it back, it came back so quickly that I think it's pretty likely that it was strained and dumped in a martini glass. I've been having an argument with a friend about whether this is acceptable: he says I couldn't have told the difference, and then implies something anti-Semitic with his eyes. Regardless, I thought it was a little weak.

By the way, I just bought a new lens for my camera. Feel free to tell me it's worthwhile.

HC's standard burger ($13) is actually a bacon-and-cheddar burger; the only condiment choice you're asked to make is whether or not you want a $2 "farm egg" on top. That's too much, but I did. Adam displayed restraint.

For some reason, Adam's burger came cut in half, and mine didn't; whatever.

This is a great sandwich. The bun was probably the highlight: it's thick and brioche-y, with the classic "everything" mix of poppy and sesame seeds on top, and it was nicely grilled to provide some fortress against serious ingredients. The cheese was sharp and oily enough to let you know that you were eating real cheese, not something designed for melting. Crispy, thick bacon, and a completely functional egg. The patty was fine, but it really kind of sank into the background, which was absolutely fine, since everything else was so good. The effect was not unlike eating a burger topped with a breakfast sandwich. You could do worse.

Sorrowfully, we must deduct points for chips instead of fries, expertly cooked though they were. Our stance was articulated by Adam: chips are a cop-out. They're not as good as fries; excellent , ready-to-eat chips are available in stores everywhere; and it's a kitchen decision that sacrifices overall goodness for being "different" in the minorest way possible. We're against it.

That slaw you see was actually really great. I wasn't really paying attention, but I think it was just red cabbage, white cabbage, and carrots in a light seasoned mayo.

Don't tell my cardiologist.

You kind of have to get dessert here, so we did. Adam's is a little brownie with a little chocolate shake:

Man in the mirror.

and I got this chocolate cake with a mint-Oreo milkshake shot. It was great but ridiculous; I couldn't finish it (although the desserts come in really pretty reasonable sizes).

Verdict: best place to take a date and have a burger. Do I smell another theme issue, Time Out?

Potbelly

2007-10-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

Potbelly Sandwich Works
Everywhere, Chicago

In order to justify a trip to the ubiquitous Potbelly's 5th ranked shake in the city, Nat and I had to hit Thats-A-Burger beforehand.

Simply an outstanding burger. Massive, great toppings, good value. Although this time around Nat and I did notice that TAB could do a little better on the bun. It's big enough for the patty, but sort of oddly crumbly. And more than anything it just pales in comparison to everything else that goes into one of those things.

On to Potbelly we went afterwards, for malts (not shakes), which at that point were completely excessive. When I first saw Potbelly on TOC's list, my first response was to call them out for laziness (you're telling me that Potbelly makes a better malt than say, Margie's Candies?) My second thought was to lambaste them for smugness, like the pretentious rock critic who strategically selects Soulja Boy's "Crank That" for 'song of the year' strictly to prove that he is in touch with the serfdom. I quickly curbed myself, however, for neither of those criticisms are applicable. I had been to Potbelly many times, and the fact is they make a damn good shake (malt).

Photos of malts. What do you want from me?

In ordering our malts (me: chocolate, Nat: oreo, as delineated by the presence of oreo cookies as garnish), I began to wonder, what type of person chooses a milkshake over a malt? Milkshakes always seemed to me the equivalent of ice cream that melted and is now liquidy. Malts, on the other hand, perfect the midpoint between beverage and solid ice cream. These two in particular were decent. Thick enough...good ice cream. But as much as I like the Potbelly malt as an easily accessible option, the best "chain" malt in the city I would have to say belongs to Baskin Robbins, which produces a seriously rich piece of work.

Some final words on Potbelly. The culinary black hole that is Hyde Park possesses multiple Subways, a Jimmy Johns, a Potbelly, and for a couple of years housed a Quizno's. I have eaten at all these establishments with rotating regularity over the past three years. Whereas my feelings about most of them have plateaued, Potbelly is the only one that I have increasingly disliked over the years. The first time I ate at a Potbelly was in Ann Arbor in 2003 on my way to Canada. I recall being filled with wonder, like I was cast into a magical world of perfect collegetown sandwichery. I was excited when they first came to HP, even though very early on I endured an in-house guitar player's rendition of "Knockin on Heaven's Door" from Potbelly's patented "singer-perch." Behind all the crap on the walls and faux-down-home decor, however, are subpar ingredients that get worse when passed through the oven. Potbelly's sandwiches just gross me out now, and somehow seem consistently wet. Maybe that's because I was getting mine with their extremely crappy giardeniera....either way, I am getting them no more. I will be back for the malts though. They're fine.

Gibson's

2007-09-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

Gibson's Bar and Steakhouse

1028 N Rush St

(312) 266-8999

Back to business. Adam and I took a week off to observe his birthday (with an undocumented , long-overdue meal at Kuma's), but we're back into the swing of things. This week, we hit Gibson's on Rush St, which is triangulated by Lux Bar and Hugo's Frog Bar (their seafood restaurant, which apparently serves the same burger).

I'm not the expert I'd like to be, but I have this general sense that, in Chicago, Gene & Georgetti is the vintage classic; David Burke's Primehouse is where you go if you know-slash-care about dry aging; Smith & Wollensky's the steak with the view; and Gibson's is the brassy, loud clubhouse for the noveau riche (no disrespect). Our experience did not disappoint.

I tried to make reservations via OpenTable the night before. OpenTable told me that they were full-up all night---cool, OpenTable's allotment of tables is full; we'll just roll up and wait half an hour.

Not a chance. This place was PACKED in a way that you just don't see in expensive restaurants. The harried-but-friendly hostess advised us that our best shot was to try to snag one of the first-come, first-served tables in the bar, which was fine with me, because I always feel a little weird about taking up a booth at a steakhouse to eat a cheeseburger.

Rickles: "To Gibson's: The food is great, but why can't the waiters tip me?"

The bar was just as packed as the atrium, but we were able to grab a two-top within a few minutes. Adam ordered the house gin martini (which actually isn't a gibson, it's straight-up with olives). I ordered a rye Manhattan, which I eventually got, although it was so noisy in there the waitress thought I'd ordered an---ick---vodka Manhattan. Good thing she checked. (The end result was nothing special.)

Usual burger orders: medium hamburger for Adam, med-rare bleu cheeseburger for me.

Gibson's is an incredibly hard place to take pictures.

S'alight? S'alight, but it's pretty apparent Gibson's doesn't really care about the burger. In contrast to everything we saw around us (football-sized steaks, slices of pie the size of a boot), the burger was a bit on the small side for a $10-$13 sandwich. The meat was fine, cooked to our specifications, and the tomato/lettuce/onion were crisp and fresh. The egg bun delivered a schizophrenic performance, functioning admirably on top, dissolving miserably on the bottom (not helped by Gibson's bizarre decision to put the cheese on the bottom of the bun). The beef wasn't very flavorful or assertive, but the total package was a respectable steakhouse take on a California-style cheeseburger.* Fries were pretty good. The huge bowls of slaw went untouched after an obligatory taste.

The Rosebud has nothing to worry about.

*A much cheaper, better option for this style is available at Relax Lounge for $4/$2 on Mondays. I think they opened after Time Out's issue, but I may write them up here at some point regardless, because it's THE burger deal going right now.

Pop's Italian Beef

2007-09-06T15:53:00.001-07:00

Pop's Italian Beef
10337 S. Kedzie Ave.
(773) 239-1243

Another fries spot. I'll be honest. Upon reading Time Out's review, I wasn't crazy about trekking 35 minutes (from Hyde Park!) down to Mount Greenwood simply to eat fries that supposedly tasted like a glorified version of McDonald's. But I did want to try out my new I-Go membership, and besides, I hadn't eaten a meal with Nat for a while. Of course, the feature presentation at Pop's is not the fries at all, but rather the Italian Beef, and a quick perusing of Skilletdoux's photo-reviews and some other stuff on the 'net got me a little more inspired.

When we finally made it down there, I was starving. I decided on the heavily advertised "superbeef" (a 9-incher), fries, and medium soda, while Nat took the plunge and ordered the daily special, the combo (Italian Beef and sausage) with fries and a soda. The fries, indeed did resemble those of the golden arches. They were thin, salty, and plentiful. A large bag plus one of the big sandwiches could legitimately satisfy two people.

In all its glory

Nat's Combo

My beef

Even better with fries

The aftermath

I'll admit that when it comes to good Italian Beef, my only real frame of reference is Al's (yes, on Taylor St.), which is pretty much an entirely different experience from Pop's. Al's grinds up their beef really finely and there is more of an emphasis on spices whereas Pop's puts more of a priority on their peppers and cuts their meat such that the texture is that of thin slices. Both the combo and the IB were huge, but not at all sick-making or hearburn-inducing. Same goes for the fries. The entire meal felt surprisingly healthy. Plus, the value is remarkable, especially when compared to Al's where I'm pretty sure the baseline beef is 7 bucks--my entire meal came to under $9 (and Nat's was even less given that it was the combo).

All in all I would say that this was our most successful trip in quite some time. I don't really have much more to say about the fries, and am having trouble determining what "5th best fries in Chicago" really signifies. I suppose one would never really go somewhere *just* for fries, so in my opinion, a large part of the "fries" category should be based on the totality of the experience. And Pop's was quite a pleasant one. The preparation area was clean, and the high school girls working behind the counter were very sweet. Their tables were well kept, and Mt. Greenwood overall seemed like a very pleasant and quiet neighborhood. Because of the distance, I'm not sure when we'll get a chance to make a return trip, but I sure hope I accidentally get lost on the Southwest side some time.

Oh, also, we saw an employee from the Popeye's next door grab dinner from Pop's and then return to work. Obviously.

Susie's Drive Thru

2007-08-21T16:37:00.000-07:00

4126 W Montrose Ave
(773) 283-6544

This week, a fries place: Susie's Drive Thru.*

Health is a priority.

This place is nuts. It's a little yellow shack, covered in signs/menus and neon signs that scream "FRIES" and "BEEFS." There are several hundred individual menu items with all kinds of crazy names ("Baboon" milkshake; "Confused Chicken" sandwich). Due to a weekend heavy on the fried-foods consumption, I wasn't really up to a representative meal (if any single meal at a place like this could even be called that), so I took a shot in the dim--this week's LTHforum shout-out goes to Steve Z., a proponent of Manny's with whom I've always felt a certain bond. Z. recommends the Western Burger, which I finally found listed on the menu after about ten minutes. Adam went with a Polish w/ everything; a detailed sign by the register explains what constitutes "everything" respective of what's being ordered.

Fried only in Butcher Boy oil, the fries come in sizes small, large, and "pound," and are available with several permutations of cheese (sauce), chili, and bacon. The pound size is served in a taco salad-style tortilla bowl to contain whatever you choose to have glopped on there. As I've mentioned before, I'm not a fan of fake cheese, and Adam just makes it his modus to eat reasonably, so we each got large orders of plain fries.

We ate in the car and tried to think of adjectival things to say about french fries. With a burger, you've got at least three main aspects to address (bun, patty, toppings), and with fries, it's potatoes and salt; maybe oil, if you want to bore everyone to death. We grimly agreed that we're going to have to use the word "spuds" more often than we'd otherwise like.

Anyway, Susie's fries are good. They're skin-on, were served very hot (as are most of the better fries), and appropriately salted (Susie's uses some kind of additional seasoning that looks like reddish-brown salt, but it's such a trace amount that I couldn't pick up any distinct added flavor). So, while really, really good, I wasn't blown away, because these are essentially the same fries sold by Hot Doug's, Boardwalk Fries, Five Guys, and probably several other establishments I've eaten at over the years, which is not meant to be a dig. Fries, good as they are, just do not a destination make.

This is the Western Burger.

I think they made it wrong. (I overheard the staff conferring on what made up a Western Burger, and there was some disagreement.) Z.'s description mentions Russian dressing, and I just got ketchup in addition to the totally unremarkable patty, American cheese, grilled onions, and Texas toast. The thing took me way back to a pre-bar mitzvah age when I ate American-on-white grilled cheeses, ignorant of pumpernickel or the concept of sharpness. Anyway, it wasn't my thing, but it may suit others' needs perfectly.

Adam's grilled Polish, on the other hand, had me jealous: that's grilled onions, a pickle, a tomato slice, a cucumber, a green pepper...damn.

He rated it highly (although still "no Jim's Original").

Even though Susie's is near absolutely nothing, I'll definitely be back (open 24/7 makes this place a must-know). They're doing their thing very well.

*Not Susie's Drive-In, as TOC listed them.

Paradise Pup

2007-08-12T16:51:00.000-07:00

Paradise Pup
1724 S River Rd
Des Plaines, IL 60018

Well, it was quite the schlep up to the north Burbs to hit up this summertime legend, and the final verdict was: very good, but perhaps another victim of circumstance. You see, talking to my brother about the burger project, he suggested that Nat and I may have peaked too soon in the game, hitting up clear winners very early on. And yes, sadly, any fast food burger that I have for the rest of my life must endure the fate of being compared to the one at That's-A-Burger, the maiden voyage of the CBP. Perhaps they are different sides to the same coin: PP is in the NW burbs, while TAB rests on the South Side. PP makes a damn good preformed patty, TAB makes a massive Rorschach inkblot of meat. PP hosts a nice set of picnic tables, TAB has no seating. And ultimately, when it comes down to it, I prefer the TAB burger for a simple reason: The TAB burger was appropriately dry, whereas the PP burger was downright, well, wet. This is a complete matter of subjective taste, I know, but there is something about the PP burger that seemed all too standard, whereas the TAB burger was a different genre of meat sandwich all together.

The inevitable TAB comparison out of the way, let's analyze the PP burger on its own merits. It's big, it's charred, it comes on a challah roll, "everything" includes mayonnaise. Nat ordered a cheeseburger, I got a double bacon charburger, and our faithful companion, Andrew Kachel, was the only one of us to have his with the mayo. It's a damn fine burger, specifically a damn fine char job. I don't have much for comparison, but the char was even and made the burger smokily flavorful. Its deficiencies were straightforward: too much lettuce, (which tasted like air--is it fair to even complain about lettuce on a fast food burger?), a tad greasy, and for the doubleburger, the bun was an absolute joke. It was like a paper towel trying to support an anvil, which ended up making my meal somewhat of a burger salad. Reports are, however, that the bun provides the perfect amount of coverage for the single burger. Oh, and I should mention that the bread is quite good and very fresh-tasting.

As accompaniments, Kachel and Nat split the three-way fries, I got the small "cajun" fries and a chocolate malt, and Nat got a chardog. The three-way fries (sour cream, bacon, and Merkt's cheddar sauce) were decidedly above average. I actually quite enjoyed the seasoned cajun fries, although I couldn't really distinguish them from other fries I've had of that nature. The chardog was evidently solid but nothing to write home about. And the highlight of the whole experience, for me at least, was the chocolate malt. Whipped up quickly and with plenty of powder, this was the best chocolate malt I've had at such an establishment next to the one served at The Smokehouse in Berkeley, CA.

All in all, Paradise Pup is a charming place way too far from where I live to make a second pilgrimmage to. To put it all in miles-for-meat perspective, I would travel such distances for Kuma's, the Rosebud, and That's-a-Burger if they existed in Des Plaines. I would go to similar lengths to eat at Hot Doug's, Al's Italian Beef (the Taylor St. joint), Jim's Original, and maybe even Manny's. But PP didn't quite have the wow-factor of those other establishments. Now for the payoff. Nat took some great photos, most which speak for themselves, so I'll give em to you--uncaptioned--below:

Lux Bar

2007-08-09T08:45:00.000-07:00

18 E Belleview
Chicago, IL 60611
(312) 642-3400

Dammit, I drew another miniburger restaurant. This week, Adam and I took a trip to the Viagra Triangle and sampled what the Gibson's/Hugo's folks are doing with Lux Bar, a kind of Denny's-for-silver-foxes that serves TOC's overall best miniburger, which it ought to be, at $3 apiece.

Lux Bar is a loud, upscale sports bar, classy in the way that a stretch Lincoln Navigator is classy. It's typical Gold Coast, full of old geezers and too-cute girls. The building looks like a casino. There's a bathroom attendant. It's completely ridiculous.

The all-over print on the menu cover [PDF] suggests that they want you to think that they can make you a drink, and it seems as though they can. I ordered a "Ramos Gin Fizz" plucked from the text, and Adam threw them a curveball by ordering a Southside if they knew how to make it, a Gibson if they didn't.

They didn't, but the drinks we did receive were pretty much perfect. The Gibson was great; I still think ordering any kind of martini should default to gin and not vodka, but I realize I'm probably in the minority in this day and age. The Ramos resembled an Orange Julius, which isn't a bad thing.

We ordered a "beef" miniburger and a "filet mignon" miniburger, medium. They look identical on the plate; the beef comes with pickles that are apparently made in-house, but taste pretty standard.

The $4 filetburger was truly great: juicy, steaky, perfectly seasoned (it was definitely closer to medium-rare, though). It's way too expensive for a three-bite sandwich, but if for some unforeseeable reason you needed the absolute best miniburger in Chicago, this is probably the one to have. Good call, TOC. The regular beef was fine, but nothing you haven't seen before.

We really would have called it an evening there, if it wasn't for this LTH thread featuring glowing praise for the patty melt from most-trusted poster Erik M (edit: see the comments for some clarification). I love good patty melts and seek them out, so I had to give this one a try.

Conspicuous consumption

It was okay. The orange "pub cheese" (Erik seems to think it's Merkt's cheese sauce) is a pretty unconventional addition (patty melts are supposed to have swiss, right?) that provided lubrication but little flavor. The bread held its own, but it didn't have much rye flavor. Don't get me wrong; I finished it, but I'd probably try something else next time (the fried chicken looked promising).

To round out the meal, we ordered an order of really-standard fried onions that came with a tiny carafe of really thin barbecue sauce and a set of tongs. You know what these things are.

And an order of their macaroni and cheese:

Adam liked this fine, but I was disappointed. I don't know how this happened, but for some reason, Chicagoans are OK with spending silly amounts of money on what amounts to gussied-up Kraft. That might be a bit harsh, but we're still talking about a preponderance of Velveeta n' noodles, which, to me, is just gross. Maybe I was spoiled by my mother's peerless baked macaroni and cheese (made with a roux and a bechemel sauce with 3/4 of a pound of sharp Cheddar), which is still just alchemy as far as I'm concerned. For my money, any place with "lux" in its name had better come correct with something closer to this (damn, what a picture) than what they're currently serving. Get serious.

Twisted Spoke

2007-07-31T12:34:00.000-07:00

Twisted Spoke

501 N Ogden Ave
312-666-1500

3365 N Clark St
773-525-5300

To be perfectly honest, the Twisted Spoke burger is kind of the burger I always want. Simple, ungreasy, generically spiced so as to canter one step beyond being mere meat, many toppings are included for the regular price, comes with crisp salty fries, bun is adequate and kinda garlicky, and it's not too humongous. Couple all that with sitting on the rooftop patio on a sunny Chicago evening (as Nat and I did at the Ogden location) drinking a Bloody Mary, and I pretty much could not be happier.

[NOTE: Twisted Spoke wasn't our first choice for the evening's dinner. We wanted to hit up Naha or the May St. Market for their mini-game-burgers, but--as with David Burke--those burgers are only served on the lunch menu at those venues. Again, the purpose of this project is not to persecute TOC for every single little shortcoming, but this is the type of information that is kind of essential for burger-pursuers.]

Nat usually orders the Patty Melt at TS

What a Burger Should Look Like

Restraint

The Bloody Mary was actually the only disappointing aspect of the evening. Hailed as "the best in the city" by Chicago Magazine, I expected a little more flair. Ultimately the drink erred on the watery side, the garnish seemed to be nothing more than cleverly folded lunchmeat, and the Worcestershire sat at the bottom of the glass, even after a brief stirring. Perhaps Kuma's has raised the standard too high, but I expect more out of my favorite burger-accompanying alcoholic beverage.

Feel me?

The burgers, as stated were delicious. Mine came with bacon and grilled onions, Nat's with bacon, grilled onions, Swiss cheese, and barbecue sauce. Nat had a mildly different experience from me, noting that his bun fell apart at the end and that the BBQ sauce tasted like cocktail sauce. Nothing could really faze us though. Night was dope and the atmosphere is the type where you could easily kill a whole Saturday (a la Moody's).

Upon leaving, however, we were forced to question the purpose of Twisted Spoke's motorcycle motif. Yeah yeah, I'm sure there is some history/tradition that squares like Nat and I don't really understand, but the whole motorcycle thing in addition to TS's cheeky "smut and eggs" porn brunch seem kind of superfluous to the whole operation. I mean, not to state the obvious, but I've seen more babies in that place recently than harborers of badassitude. And not that the place should change its image to accommodate a new clientele, but I'm just saying, there is quite a bit of dissonance between form and function of the establishment.

David Burke's Primehouse

2007-07-23T13:15:00.002-07:00

616 N. Rush St.
312-660-6000

Primehouse has been a Nat and Adam favorite since it opened about a year ago. It's a kinda-fancy steakhouse that provides pretty good food (including dry-aged steaks that are absolutely beyond reproach) with a pleasantly warm and inviting manner. The waitstaff is friendly, competent, and unpretentious---they're like an upscale version of a small-town diner. The menu doesn't shy away from playing things up for theatrics (there's an $80 appetizer called "Seafood Castle," the Caesar salad is prepared tableside), and it's really just fun, in an adult kind of way. Service isn't flawless, but our experience has been that they're willing to fix whatever (minor) problems arise. A very reliable restaurant.

Adam wondered whether it'd be at all possible that we'd get out of there without spending serious amounts of cash, and the answer turned out to be "no." There's just too much to try. In the interest of economy we split the Caesar, an excellent example of the genre. The chives on top are a nice touch.

The first time Adam and I ever went to Primehouse, we were accidentally served (with great fanfare) an unordered bowl of really nice-looking gazpacho with a pile of lump crab meat in the middle. The waiter then took it away, but would later return with a fresh bowl to compensate for teasing us. Anyway, we couldn't take the risk of that not happening again, so we played it straight and ordered a couple of bowls. Excellent. The green stuff floating on top is basil oil.

And now, the main event. The burger in question isn't even on the regular dinner menu, but they were happy to provide it.

Brought to you by Crooks n' Castles

Half-poundish patty, nicely seasoned, kinda peppery. The meat is good, but you wouldn't mistake it for a ground-up version of their sirloin or anything. The bun is pretty standard, soft and kaiser-like, but toasted (nicely toasted). I got my usual bleu cheese on top, and they provided something very nice with a lot of flavor. (Maytag, maybe?) Nothing at all transcendent about this sandwich, but certainly respectable. (This was TOC's second-place steakhouse burger, after all.)

The fries, on the other hand, really suck...very cafeteria-variety. Disappointing. I really think they'd be better off getting rid of the fries altogether and offering one of the several excellent side dishes off of the regular menu. If that bumps up the price (currently $12), so be it (it's official, no one can get out of Primehouse for less than $40 anyway). These fries are doing nobody any favors.

Dessert? Why not? A lemon pound cake with basil ice cream and pears. Nice.

So, what've we got: a decent burger at a restaurant where you'd probably never go to get a burger (just to reiterate, the Rosebud's burger is the steakhouse burger to seek out). A solid effort from a solid restaurant.

Billy Goat Tavern

2007-07-10T11:36:00.000-07:00

Billy Goat Tavern
430 N. Michigan at Lower Level
312-222-1525

And...we're back. Sad to say, you will find no history lessons here. For all you need to know on the immortal Billy Goat, please check the script on their website or peep the legendariness below:

What speaks volumes about the Billy Goat's status in Chicago is that upon entering, around 530pm, we witnessed what appeared to be some sort of sweet-sixteen/debutante's ball extravaganza going on inside the confines of the BGT. Teenage girls galore, and a few parents packed the dingy room, delighting in burgers and singing along to the Now That's What I Call Music volumes playing on the jukebox. Within ten minutes or so of our arrival, the massive entourage began to clear out.

Some straggling adults explained that they were a tour group visiting from Alabama. "We don't want to give a bad impression of the South," one pleasantly explained to us. "We have all of our teeth. We graduated from college. And none of us our married to our family members." As my colleague Nat noted of this type of candor, "It would be like if I told somebody I was Jewish and then immediately offered them a 50-dollar bill."

When the third member of our party, the visiting artist also responsible for the photos on this post, arrived, it was time to get down to business. Sticking with tradition, we all ordered chips to accompany our burgers (only mine without cheese). Vitner's, a Chicago classic, whose be-saxophoned mascot, Vinnie, is clearly the ideal male companion to New York's Utz girl.

As for the burgers, they are what they are: Made quickly, completely satisfying, and not as terribly greasy as one would imagine. The buns are nicely starch-dusted. After two burgers apiece, we all left feeling full and not sick. The BGT's clear advantage over other burger venues is its small fixins bar. One is given their choice of unlimited pickles, relish, mustard, ketchup, and onions. All ingredients are fresh. And the unlimited supply of these things provides you the opportunity to overload your burger with the toppings of your choice:

As a pickles-enthusiast, I could not have been more pleased with the chance to fully deck my burger with the pickle chips provided. Additionally, the fixins bar gives one a true sense of agency in the process of gormandizing. There is an implicit agreement between you and the line cook in which you trust him to properly grill up your burger, and he trusts you to dress it to perfection. Of course, what constitutes perfection is individualized for each customer, and thus the whole experience becomes an exercise in true American consumption, one that I hope rings true from the shores of Lake Michigan all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico near Mobile, AL.

Keep Me Hanging On

2007-07-02T13:08:00.000-07:00

FYI: We haven't forgotten about the fortysome burgers we still have to eat. Summer activities have been keeping us on the run, but we'll be back on track by the middle of July.

Poag Mahone's

2007-06-18T14:38:00.000-07:00

333 S. Wells
Chicago, IL 60604
(312) 566-9100

Poag Mahone's is an Irish pub-themed bar in the Loop at the corner of Wells and Van Buren, near the Harold Washington Library and Cal's, a much better bar. It's generally expensive and attracts traders. I'm boring myself just thinking about it, and thus, for a mini-burger, a mini-review, because I have next to nothing to say about these.

As CBP associate Eric Porges put it, "A slider is a subgenre, but a mini-burger is a gimmick," and that's what you've got here: small, unadorned beef patties, deeply charred, served on a kind of donut-hole shaped baguette.

They don't photograph well, but they taste fine. TOC dubbed them "the Bruce Springsteen of burgers" for being "unfussy, basic, rugged, and substantial," all of which are inarguably trademarks of the 57-year-old musician. Pogue Mahone's makes no effort to disguise their frozen crinkle fries as anything else, but they're redeemed by a nice mix of seasonings.

But as you can see, they come completely plain, just bread and bun, which is pretty disappointing. (How about some cherry tomato slices? Where are my mini-pickle sections? If you're going to do this, fucking do it, alright?) You might be able to get by with tabletop condiments if the cap of the mustard didn't look like this:

Come on; are you kidding?

Adam was so repulsed by this thing that he had to put it on the ground, under his chair, before he could finish eating.

It's pretty apparent that we're just skeptical of TOC's burger assessments, but Adam brought to light the news that venerable food critic Alan Richman had deemed Poag Mahone's regular burger one of his Twenty Hamburgers You Must Eat Before You Die. That's hype. Add to that this "Buger Eater's Bill of Rights" that appears on the menu:

So, who knows? We had to try the real deal. Adam had a basic hamburger, and a notable visiting artist and I both topped ours with grilled onions and bleu cheese. This is what I got:

Sunglasses is a must.

First of all, the pickle wasn't crisp, but it was a half-sour, which is a pretty rare thing to find outside of a deli. All of the other items on our Bill of Rights were not applicable, as we didn't order more fries, couldn't weigh the burger, didn't trust this place to eat rare ground beef, etc. The whole thing was fine, like a great on-the-grill burger made by a chef-friend. If you like char, this is a good burger for you. The whole experience was somewhat soured by a nearly $50 check for the three of us.

McCormick & Schmick's

2007-06-10T17:27:00.000-07:00

McCormick & Schmick's
One East Wacker Drive
312-923-7226

Lie to us, Time Out, lie to us. Ok, you did…but not the type of lie that I’m talking about. (Let me back up). You listed McCormick & Schmick’s $1.95 happy hour burger in your “cheap burgers” section, and while you did inform us that this burger required a two-drink minimum, you failed to mention that Amstel Light’s cost five bucks, and you really can’t go much cheaper. So, that $1.95 burger ends up being about $12.00 at least and that’s before tax and tip. So when I say “lie to us,” I mean, come on…if you’re struggling to complete a list of five cheap burgers, just pretend that you tried the burger at Wiener’s Circle, or Gold Coast Dogs for chrissakes, and tell us that it’s a “tasty, inexpensive morsel” (or something).

Indignantion out of the way, let’s get a couple close-ups of that burger.

Ooh that’s nice.

The photos were taken on Nat’s Blackberry, and I must say, this is the closest any of our burgers have to come to looking like they appeared in a porno flick.

So, before I get to the burger, the side story to all of this is that getting this burger was a real snap decision and we were on a tight timeframe. Assuming the place would be somewhat formal, Nat actually forewent riding his bike back home although he rode it to Hyde Park that morning, just to stay in work clothes. I flipped my freedarko t-shirt out and pulled the tag out so it appeared logo-less. And as it turned out, the burger was completely appropriate for our initial attire. We sat mere feet away from plenty of tourists and businessfolk actually at M&S to get a proper seafood meal. We wondered if we were ruining their experience by looking like schlubs and enjoying <2-dollar pieces of meat. All said, the burger really wasn’t that bad. It was sort of like going to a friend’s barbecue, having him vaguely attend to the meat while drinking and flirting too much, and then serving you the best of, say, six or seven on the grill. That’s what this burger was—the best of a friend’s barbecue. The fries, however, were absolute garbage. The worst we have tasted so far, and definitely of the papersack variety. I suppose if Nat and I ever go into business together and find ourselves dicking around the loop, then sure, we might go back and spend $12-20 on burgers and drinks to stay “cheap.” But for now, I would be better served forgetting this burger ever happened.

Moody's Pub

2007-06-04T10:19:00.001-07:00

Moody's Pub
5910 N Broadway
773-275-2696

So, as far as CBP is concerned, I’m a blogger, not a journalist, and I don’t aspire to impartiality. Adam and I come with a combined half-century’s worth of culinary prejudices, and there’s simply no way to eliminate them, but I think we do a decent-enough job of making it clear where we’re coming from.

Thus, disclosure: Moody's inspires a sentimentality in me that few other restaurants could...it's pretty much idiosychracy-themed restaurant, or a vision of what "family dining" would look like if Arthur Treacher had been able to outlast TGI Friday's. The building itself looks like some kind of conceptual Levittown Elks lodge. The dining room is almost unimaginably dark, crammed full of heavy wood tables and chairs. There are fireplaces in several corners that remain operational year-round, and everything is covered with a patina thirty years of aerosolized beef fat.* A massive multi-tiered beer garden/patio provides the corresponding yang, picnic tables shaded by a picturesque tree canopy. In a word: marvelous. Summer, Chicago, and Moody's beer garden are inextricbibly intertwined.

As you might expect, Moody's menu is heavy on the grilled and the fried. No aspect of it is extensive. Moody's only serves four beers (Michelob, Beck's, Berghoff Dark, and Anchor Steam---just try to find a bar with Anchor Steam on tap, let alone at $9 a pitcher). Also available are various wines, sangria (pretty decent), and several weird signature drinks with names like "Jaker's Mark" and "Moody Dot Com" (not actually the URL for Moody's website, which is, instead, http://www.moodyspub.com). The consensus seems to be that these are okay, if a little weird. Moody's has been known to serve the world's worst Long Island Ice Tea.

Okay, so: the burger, as I usually eat it, topped with a creamy bleu cheese sauce ("The Moody Blue"...ha).

You've got a pretty standard 1/2 lb. hamburger patty of respectable, but not remarkable quality that may or may not come pre-formed from a vendor. Not a bad thing in and of itself, but it really requires some careful cooking, which didn't really happen this time (CBP confederates ordered burgers ranging from medium-rare to medium-well, and from what I could tell, everyone received a medium). Correspondent Aaron Blazer ordered a bacon cheeseburger, which arrived without bacon. He was then served a cup of cold bacon, resulting in this:

Weird. The buns are really too soft to handle this burger, and they tend to disintegrate. The fries photograph well, but are pretty average.

None of this seems very compelling, but here are two things to consider:

a) Your enjoyment of Moody's hamburger is directly correlated with your hunger/inebriation levels, which skew higher than normal at Moody's. Shlepping all the way up to Uptown can do wonders for the appetite, and with beer this cheap, it's hard to resist the urge to toss back a few, and then a few more. Even Flash Taco tastes pretty good when one's in a certain way, and by all yardsticks, Moody's is much better than that.

b) Moody's website, which languished for years, has been recently revamped, and a long-dead link to a 2-for-1 coupon has been restored. With this coupon, you're looking at a dinner of two burgers, a pitcher of Anchor Steam, and a 25% tip for $20 (before tax). That's a PHENOMENAL deal that easily outhustles most of Time Out's cheap-burger deals with all of their conditions and exceptions.

Moody's claims to have won "Best Burger" at various times from the Tribune, the Sun-Times, and Chicago Magazine...long forgotten issues, I'm sure, but if Kuma's, That's-A-Burger, and Rosebud weren't around, maybe Moody's WOULD be the best burger in Chicago. These are heady days.

*Description credit: Eric Porges, who's been saying this from day 1.

Scooter's

2007-05-24T11:45:00.000-07:00

Scooter's Frozen Custard
1658 W. Belmont
773-244-6415

"Let it not be lost in the details of the night how good this ice cream was."
--Nat

So we copped out and hit another milkshake place even though we're behind on our burgers. The issue was that we had a postponed visit to Kuma's planned for a couple weeks, and needed to somehow make ourselves feel productive despite eating a meal we had already blogged about (I feel like my syntax is terrible right now...is any of this making sense?). It's really not important. What is important is that Scooter's Boston milkshake was the real deal. Custard aficionados we are not, so both Nat and I had little idea what we were getting into.

The facts (available on Scooter's website) are that custard is merely ice cream made with 1.4% egg yolk and 20% butterfat. This results in a consistency that is tremendously more liquid than normal ice cream, yet still maintained a steady thickness. The Boston Shake consists of custard + hot fudge + whip cream. Not being a whip cream person, I felt like the whip plus ice cream already erring on the creamy side didn't give me much to grasp onto. Tactile experience aside, however, the shake was delicious and unique. The custard blended with the whip and hot fudge instead of separating into some Montessori depiction of the earth's layers. Perhaps there could have been a touch more hot fudge toward the bottom of the shake, but now I'm just being greedy.

Contemplating the implications

Nat ordered a vanilla oreo malt, which in some ways--being a malt traditionalist--I preferred. The vanilla/oreo joint was not simply a milkshake done thicker, but rather a confection with backbone, plentiful with malted nougats. I think Nat even surprised himself by how much he enjoyed it. In the words of us, "We will be back."

The Vanilla Oreo thing

"This isn't even something I normally like."

...The true highlight of the night, however, occurred earlier, when we walked into Kuma's and spotted none other than Chicago food maven and LTH Forum founder, G Wiv. After we approached G(ary) to tell him that we were LTH lurkers/posters and that we were the people behind this very blog, he was so gracious that he bought us beers and invited us to sit at the bar with him (picture: a young Roger Clemens wandering on to a baseball field only to find Nolan Ryan on the mound, willing to play some catch).

Given that it is not every day that we are invited to sit with the oracle of Chicago food, we took the opportunity talk serious shop with the man, who answered all of our burning questions, and displaying an incredibly vast knowledge. Wiv advised us on the perfect wine pairing for Schwa (the Oregon red went perfect with the Ravioli, Gary), rank ordered french fries from Italian Beef stands the city over, told us which of Chicago's finest restaurants do not charge for valet, and rattled off the subtle distinctions in BBQ technique between Lem's, Barbara Ann's, Uncle John's, and Honey 1 as if reciting Chaucer from memory. The meal at Kuma's was outstanding as always, and the chance to dine with Wiv was a bonus. Punctuating the night with Scooter's almost felt like hubris, but our work needed to be done.

bin wine cafe

2007-05-16T12:10:00.000-07:00

bin wine cafe
1559 N. Milwaukee Ave.
773-486-2233

I've walked by this place hundreds of times, and the Project's the first reason I've ever had to give a second look. This stretch of Milwaukee Avenue, which contains an Urban Outfitters, a Harold's Chicken, and a bar-themed-on-an-older-and-cooler bar, just smacks of being designed for intracity tourism, and not for serious diners like ourselves.

All that being said (and annoying bell hooks-style syntax notwithstanding), bin wine cafe is a solid, respectable spot that we'll almost definitely be returning to. The whole "wine cafe" shtick means a menu of upscale pub food built around a curated list of wines available in themed flights or by the glass (or, presumably, by the bottle, but that's kind of missing the point). The mandate seems to be to make wine and cheese accessible without being silly, and from my vantage point, they're doing this well (little slips of paper that accompany wines and cheeses provide a guide and a souvenir, if you're so inclined).

For no other reason than that we were born to do it, we started the meal with the "A Little Italy" cheese flight (okay, that's a little silly).

L to R: mozzerella, robioloa, brigante pepperocini, Parmigiano Reggiano. Also pictured: rye/bagel chip-type things, apple slices, Adam, and some kind of grape gelatin palate cleanser.

No complaints about the cheeses: they were fresh, tasty, and artfully presented. A bit safe, maybe, but that's Italian cheese for you.

About this time, the power went out and emergency lights clicked on. It was only early evening, and sunlight kept the place sufficiently illuminated. Sirens went off at random, but were quickly silenced. Waiters started coming around with baguettes and olive oil, which made me wonder why there's no bread in the first place. For the most part, though, the kitchen and waitstaff just kept humming, which is a good and promising sign.

The burger, as always, was our M.O. TOC's description is intriguing and, oddly for them, descriptive:

Beef chuck is marinated in olive oil, shallots, thyme, parsley, pepper and garlic, ground daily and hand-formed into half-pound patties. The finished product gets oven-dried tomatoes (instead of a tomato slice), house-made giardiniera (in lieu of a pickle) and your choice of artisanal cheese on a brioche bun.

Here's what you get:

Looks like the Erwin burger, right? To be honest, the TOC description had me expecting something a little more visually impressive; this is nice, but the vegetables looked kind of pale, the tomatoes just looked withered, and they were scattered around the plate. But, to be fair, it was probably pretty dark in the kitchen by that point.

The marinade and fine grind of the meat makes this a pretty unusual burger; the taste is more akin to a brisket (Adam's impression) or meatloaf (my impression) sandwich. This seasoning combined with the sheer girth of the patty overshadows mild toppings like the giardiniera or blue cheese.

Rock of ages, Ma`oz Tzur

So, this burger kind of caught me off guard and wasn't exactly what I was expecting, and I'm not sure it's my preferred type of burger, but it was definitely tasty and well-prepared, and I've got to give bin their due for doing their thing and making something interesting (that happened to go great with that glass of wine pictured above). The fries were better than average, but not great.

Selfishly, we were both a little disappointed that our waiter (who, by this point, was pretty much running the entire restaurant) hadn't come over to apologize for something completely beyond his control that had barely affected the flow of our meal and offer us, like, free desserts or something (I mean, come on). Instead, we ordered desserts and were casually handed our check, from which the wine, the cheese, and the desserts were conspicuously absent.

As a notable CBP associate might say, "Ching, ching."

The damn thing was done: Adam had three small pots au creme, and I had a chocolate mousse with mint-Oreo ice cream and crispy chocolate things; both were great.

Sorry, we started eating before we even considered taking pictures.

Rosebud Steakhouse

2007-05-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

Rosebud Steakhouse
192 E. Walton St.
(312) 397-1000

Of all the burgers on TOC's list, Rosebud's is the one with which we are the most familiar. Though their actual steaks have gotten fairly shady reviews on lthforum.com , the burger--as a basic burger--is hands down the best I have ever eaten. Rather, this was the mindset we entered the venue with a couple Fridays ago--the truth was neither Nat nor I had eaten at the Rosebud in months, and were worried that after an interim Kuma's-heavy diet, the Rosebud burger would not be as good as we remembered it. Walk with me...

The first good sign of the evening was that immediately upon showing up, I was surprisingly greeted by the patron saint of the Chicago Burger Project and the man that IS to the Rosebud what Jack Nicholson is to Laker games: Uncle David. David is the actual uncle of the mutual best friend of Nat and I, but his status holds so much weight that even the waiters at the Rosebud refer to him as "Uncle David." The second sign that we were in for a good night was that after some cursory kibbitzing with David, he pointed us to the second most notable person in the room, Katie Couric who was working the room and dining with a CBS bigwig. Couric is stunning in person, charming, and was willing to talk to everyone who wanted to chat. Our only regret was that we didn't see what she ordered.

We ordered some drinks (NOT recommended for the price) and placed our orders: the plain burger for me, the blue cheese burger for Nat and our out of town guest, Evan. Given that the burgers are amazing value--$11.95 for the plain burger and a dollar extra for cheese--Nat and I have frequently wondered the degree to which the Rosebud waiters feel angst when yet another young customer orders burgers instead of steaks (although the staff serving us was perfectly stonefaced).

When the burgers arrived, it was like coming home to family. Just as we remembered, each burger was an embodiment of perfection. A huge flavorful slab of meat, a taste that evokes a fine steak as much as it does a hamburger. A delicious ripe tomato ("During the Winter in Chicago, there is NOWHERE other than this place that you can find such a fresh tomato" --Nat), and fries that are worthy of their own accolades. Seasons change, the economy fluctuates, girlfriends leave, and dictators fall--yet the one constant in our lives is the supremacy of the Rosebud hamburger. For 13 bucks or less, you can enjoy a meal that is truly the best of its kind. And if you see Uncle David at the bar, order him a drink and tell him we said hi.

All of our photos got lost in a horrific flickr accident. This is the only one that was salvaged, proving we were there. Really, the loss of photos is a blessing in that it will hopefully inspire you to visit the Rosebud to get a glimpse and a taste of this burger in person.

Patty Burger

2007-04-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

72 E Adams St
Chicago, IL 60603
(312) 987-0900

One of the trickier aspects of eating this many burgers (or, more specifically, eating this many kinds of burgers) is mentally resetting from one meal to the next. So regularly do I eat at Kuma's that now, whenever I pick up a hamburger—wherever I am—my parietal lobes expect a sandwich of that quality, and when this doesn't happen, wires get crossed, shit goes haywire, I get angry, etc. We're still in the early stages, but I'm taking this opportunity to remind myself that a hamburger is not always "just a hamburger."

Why'd I get a Sprite? I don't know.

Patty Burger is TOC's second-best "fast-food burger" (every meal that passes leaves me even more mystified as to what their criteria for these categories must be), and I doubt that Patty Burger would have any—sorry—beef with this designation. Chicago's Patty Burger is a small, narrow space currently hidden behind scaffolding near the corner of Adams and Michigan. The interior generally bright with stainless-steel furnishings, although everything was looking pretty dingy and scuffed by 6 PM on a Thursday. The menu's simple (burgers, fries, shakes, chili)—everything will be familiar to anyone who's ever eaten at Wendy's. Things look a little nicer and are a little more expensive, so you're expecting, maybe, a well-made-Whopper-when-you're-really-hungry experience.

Here's my double, just as it comes if you don't specify anything.

Note: no pickles. I really like pickles and they would have added some dimension to what turned out to be a pretty one-dimensional burger.

Adam had a double without "the sauce" (beige and completely flavorless), bacon (+ 99¢), and grilled onions (+ 59¢). With large fries and a chocolate shake, Adam's burger was flirting with $10, which is close to the unforgiving realm of Kuma's and Rosebud Steakhouse. Our university IDs earned us $1-ish discounts on the whole meals.

The pleasant-but-none-too-quick ladies behind the counter stiffed Adam the bacon on their first try, but were happy enough to add it and rewrap the whole thing.

Forget about the fries; they add nothing.

This may sound odd, but we both (passionately) agree that the Patty Burger is best described as "the burger you would eat at the zoo." (Keep in mind that Adam and I grew up in very different parts of the country, with very different zoos, but immediately knew what we were talking about.) There's a very food-service quality to Patty Burger, which is not necessarily worse any other fast-food restaurants; it's just not as familiar as a McDonald's, BK, or Wendy's burger (although the patty is a lot like McD's Big and Tasty patty). The facts: the vegetables were fresher than you'd find at any of those places, and the burger wasn't greasy. For some reason, it felt more like a rock in my gut than anything we've sampled so far, but that could be attributable to any number of factors. Adam concedes, somewhat sheepishly, that his shake was really good.

Patty Burger's ironic retro po-mo pinup girl iconography notwithstanding, they're selling a sandwich that's much closer to modern fast-food offerings than the 1930s-style burger that you might find at a drive-in. I think the Loop would love a spot like that-there are enough Sysco-supplied cafeterias already.

Kuma's Corner

2007-04-11T09:40:00.000-07:00

Kuma's Corner
2900 W. Belmont Ave.
773.604.8769

Let's get right to it, this sitting at Kuma's Corner constituted one of the top five meals of my Chicago existence, and I can agree with Nat's early advising that although Rosebud Steakhouse probably serves the best basic burger in the city (and has the best value), Kuma's has the best speciality burger (although TOC lists it as the best "pub" burger). With a variety of different ingredient permutations to choose from, I could imagine devoting an entire blog/project to Kuma's alone.

Nat had already been to Kuma's a number of times, so my expectations were inconceivably high. Upon arriving and sitting, we were greeted by a waitress with a sparkling personality and an aesthetic that made me homesick for the Seattle-cum-Minneapolis cigarette-adorned coffee shop girls of my adolescence. We ordered Bloody Marys, brewed six days previous and made with jalapeno vodka, which by themselves made it worth the trip.

This Bloody Mary contains the three things I always hope for: intense spiciness, dill, and some sort of salt/worcestershire sediment.

When it came time to order food, Nat steered me away from the Slayer--a pile of fries topped with a burger, jack cheese, chili, cherry peppers, and andouille onions--as it had previously destroyed him, and doesn't "technically" count as a burger (although Nat and a friend of ours had previously ordered the Slayer with a side of hamburger buns). I went with the Mastodon, which was a great first foray into the diverse menu. The most amazing aspect of the Mastodon, is the exactly proportionate nature of each of the ingredients. Left to my own devices, I generally will not order cheese on my burger, but the perfect amounts of cheese, BBQ sauce, fried onions (which absolutely make the burger) and bacon, make sure that the patty itself was not subsumed.

The Mastodon (aka the realest thing I ever ate): fried onions, bacon, BBQ sauce, and cheddar.

I haven't been this happy since Wellstone was alive.

Nat, an old pro, ordered the Led Zeppelin (pictured below). Our cherubic waitress remarked that she always feels a bit winded after finishing the Zeppelin, but when we left, both Nat and I were perfectly full, and neither of us felt sick.

The Led Zeppelin: Pulled pork (PULLED PORK), bacon, cheddar, and pickles.

I take terrible photos.

So the real dilemma is this: Given Kuma's extreme proximity to Hot Doug's, we are left with a cognitive dissonance-inducing choice to make, every Saturday around noontime. Kuma's essentially is the hamburger version of Hot Doug's. Incredible quality ingredients, creative combinations of elements, and an overall indie sensibility. The drinking options at Kuma's clearly tip the scale in the hamburger's favor, yet Doug's delectable fries favor hot dogs. Either way, I guess we should be glad we don't live around California and Belmont and have to confront this conflict on a daily basis. To ambiguously echo the concerns of one of our mothers, I would probably never again know what fruit tastes like.

Darwin's

2007-03-28T08:19:00.000-07:00

1935 N. Damen Ave.
Chicago, IL 60647
(773) 252-8530

If the following two axioms are true,

a) Nat and Adam like burgers
b) Nat and Adam appreciate value

then why are Nat and Adam dreading eating the Cheap Burgers only slightly less than the Veggie Burgers? Because, more often than not, we're dealing with restaurants discounting a $6-$10 menu item to a quarter of the price. The best-case scenario is a crowded restaurant, the worst is a special alternate cheap-o burger, and the great unknown is everything in between. Given the choice between the false economy of a $1 burger (bun, cheese, and toppings extra) or paying $8 and being left to eat in peace, we'll take the latter every time.

We eased into this category by checking out TOC's winner, Darwin's, which is a burger I'm quite familiar with. Darwin's is close to my house, and its menu of slightly upscale bar food has proven to be well-executed and often pleasantly surprising. Prior to the conception of the Project, my recollection of Darwin's burgers was fond, if a little vague. The somewhat generic ambiance of a yuppie Bucktown bar has always been offset by pleasant service, a decent beer selection, and good value.

So, while I'd been to Darwin's plenty of times, I'd somehow always avoided the clusterfuck of "Tuesday Burger Night." Shit was a mess. We were able to grab the last free table without incident, which unfortunately sandwiched us between parties of screaming children and too-loud aging hipsters. The harried waiter dropped off menus and the unfortunate news that the fryer was broken--no fries. This is bad news; unlike a lot of spots with apathetic spuds that you wouldn't miss, Darwin's seasoned, thick-cut fries (TOC compared them to potato tempura, which is actually pretty apt) really elevate the plate. People were being offered potato chips or a green salad in their place; your team had one of each. (A reliable source told us that the fryer's been broken for several days at least, and that they're none too accommodating about creative substitutions.)

We missed it the first time around, but here's the fine print:

(Note that the price isn't actually listed. It's somewhere between $2 and $3; see the receipt at the end for more about this.)

So even if you keep it cheap with $2 PBRs, you're still not getting out of there for less than $7 plus tip. If you always have a couple of drinks with a hamburger, no sweat, but I actually didn't feel like I needed two beers and Adam was sick, so this was kind of a stumbling block. A ringer was called in to drink Adam's beer.

Despite the busyness of everything, our burgers arrived in an appropriate amount of time, cooked, more or less, to the requested level of doneness--although this is one of the rarest medium-rare burgers I've ever had.

Darwin's special tri-plates (which usually present a pile of the aforementioned fries bookended by halves of a burger, NOT the other way around as TOC's picture implies) are generally well-liked. I'm a little ambivalent about having my burger cut in half--why is this necessary?--but not enough to make an issue out of it. The bun is good and somewhat egg-y, reminiscent of challah, and the vegetables are fresh. The beef is seasoned very lightly, but it's high-quality stuff with a dead-on fat/lean ratio. It's a straightforward interpretation done quite well: you get the impression that you're eating something fresh.

My green salad was seriously limp, and Adam found the potato chips depressing. Without fries, you might as well be making dinner at home.

Here's the check. I got cheese on my burger and Adam didn't, but they were both $3. Adam also had soup. Everything cost $19, but we couldn't figure out exactly what cost what. We were tired.

So, whatever: Darwin's burger is solid, neither disappointing nor particularly exciting, and you will surely not regret (although also possibly not remember) any burger you eat here. If you're hungry, in the neighborhood, and in the mood for a couple of beers on a Tuesday night, this is a pretty good option. Best cheap burger deal in the city? Maybe, but I'd personally much rather have a regular $3.45 That's-A-Burger single any day of the week.

Eleven City Diner

2007-03-20T19:24:00.000-07:00

Eleven City Diner
1112 S. Wabash Ave.
312.212.1112

You didn't think TOC was ACTUALLY going to eat 55 hamburgers did you? The mag connivingly created a list that included 35 actual hamburgers, 5 non-beef meatburgers, 5 veggie burgers, 5 FRIES places, and 5 SHAKES places. Eleven City was our first venture into the world of shakes.

Nat and I are no strangers to Eleven City. The hype surrounding its opening last year had us poised to spend our next thousand weekends there, eating bagels at all hours and chatting with moody Columbia College girls about Yoshitomo Nara and how to use a ring flash and shit like that. A couple of subpar visits, the discovery of a third slice of bread in their pastrami on rye, and this ultimate kvetching smackdown on LTH really started to kill the dream. But it was the testimonial of chicagoburgerproject correspondent, Aaron Blazer, that really put the nail in the coffin:

I ordered the World's Greatest Macaroni And Cheese. Yes, I know, not a good choice. But remember, I cannot eat sandwiches because of my teeth. Turns out by "World's Greatest" they mean replication of Kraft. It was totally reconstituted day-glow-orange cheese with wheaties sprinkled on top of it. Gave me a fucking head ache. Uncle David and I even talked to the manager about what sort of cheese they used and he assured us that though it was not Velveeta brand it was a mixture of stuff that included a cheese substitute. Fuck. Last time I did a half sandwich and soup and noticed how small the sammy was. I think this place is about on par with Clarke's with a better lay out and a faux-Jewish deli thing going on.

So, whatever, fine, Eleven City is on our list, and it's REALLY hard to mess up a shake...except for one problem: I'm not really a shake guy. I'll eat malts in any weather under pretty much any circumstances, but shakes just seem like the cheaper soupier version of them. Now despite our general lack of enthusiasm toward this particular stop on the tour, I have to admit, this was one of the best shakes I've ever consumed.

Even Nat, self-proclaimed shake-greenhorn really enjoyed his.

The wafer cookie and whip cream were a bit much, but this thing was really hard to put down.

As I alluded to above, my main problem with shakes (as a genre) is their general thinness. Eleven City surprised me by producing a confection that was nearly at malt-level consistency. We'll have some heavy pondering to do in the coming months to decide whether Eleven City's achievement with this treat may have saved their reputation with us once and for all.

Park Grill

2007-03-20T18:46:00.000-07:00

Park Grill
111 N. Michigan Ave.
312.521.7275.

This was a meal that we entered amidst quite a bit of controversy.

First, Nat expressed skepticism over any American establishment advertising a hamburger consisting of Kobe Beef. To be fair, our waitress came clean and admitted that the preparation that their burger received was an Americanized version of true Kobe methods.

Second, Park Grill offers two burgers, which presented somewhat of a conundrum. TOC voiced their preference for the 18[expletive]dollar Gorgonzola-balsamic grilled onions-grain mustard burger (also confusing, as they listed the Park Grill burger under "classic" burgers; not under "dressed up" burgers). On the other hand, the Chicago Tribune, a highly trusted source in these matters, in their 2005 top burger list, championed the $10 standard lunchtime burger. To demonstrate our commitment to this project, we both ordered the $18 joint, and I can best sum up the experience by stating it was a very good burger that I will not pay for ever again.

PG gets points for a little creativity. The balsamic onion/Gorgonzola/grain mustard combination suggests thoughtfulness, and the execution was well done. All ingredients were of high quality and none of them overshadowed the taste of the meat itself. The burger is also deceptively juicy, which--in a way--was refreshing to see a classier type place attempt to pull off.

Note the large portion of blank white space on each plate. The presentation was less than dazzling.

Nat suggested that the Gorgonzola did not melt as blue-veined cheeses normally do. As a cheese-novice myself, however, I was unnerved.

Nat also observed that the pretzel bun served with the burger is the EXACT pretzel bun at virtually every establishment serving pretzel-bunned burgers in Chicago, from The Rosebud on down.

The fries were a complete afterthought and are not deserving of any description.

The burger on its own is a solid specimen, and the view was nice enough that I could definitely see coming back in warmer months to eat the lunch burger. Paying an additional eight dollars for cheese, onions, and mustard, however, is really something I only need to do once; and really those eight bills should really be saved to hit up That's-A-Burger some time later in the week.

Erwin

2007-03-12T17:25:00.000-07:00

Erwin
2925 N Halsted St
Chicago, IL 60657
773.528.7200

Adam’s face says it all: this was a disappointing meal.

Eye of a scholar, mind of a skeptic

Erwin was the only spot mentioned in Time Out Chicago’s list that I’d never heard of or seen mentioned on LTHForum, and out of nowhere, it walks away with the top spot in the “Classic” category? What? This was going to be either (a) the discovery of the most slept-on restaurant in Chicago, or (b) a manifestation of some questionable criteria employed by the TOC staff. It turned out that we were dealing with the latter, but we wouldn't know that until it was too late.

Erwin is a weird spot. It’s on Halsted just north of Diversey, which puts it not-really-near anything, and it’s kind of hidden by the two buildings on either side—it’s very easy to miss. There’s a long handicapped-access ramp that runs the length of the building. The booths and tables are dark wood, and the walls are decorated with a weird pastiche of folksy murals and disconcertingly high wainscoting. A huge pail of butterscotch candies obscures the hostess. The bathroom has Erwin-branded hand lotion…I could go on all day like this, but it seems disingenuous to clown a Lakeview brunch restaurant for looking like an L.L. Bean when That's-A-Burger lost no points for lacking chairs, tables, or even a ledge.

It’s just listed on the menu as “hamburger” (lowercase), and it costs “12”.

You are offered the opportunity to add bleu cheese or cheddar; I had the bleu, and Adam passed on any cheese. After what seemed like an unusually long time (forgot my watch, I’m going to guess 25 minutes), our burgers arrived.

This burger is deceptively photogenic.

Visually, you’re presented with a kind of baby brother to the Rosebud burger (a TOC and Nat and Adam favorite), right down to the ovular platter and individual dollops of condiments. Tastewise, you’ve got a much inferior product. My first impression was “points for execution, no points for ambition,” but as the meal went on, I became further and further underwhelmed. I can’t quite put my finger on what was lacking, but there was just nothing noteworthy going on here: very standard Kaiser-ish bun, toppings of average quality, eminently forgettable fries.
The meat, while juicy to the point of messy, was underseasoned, too lean, or both. Bleh.

I probably wouldn’t have noticed or cared if Erwin had been, like, the restaurant attached to my hotel or something, but again, this was supposed to be a superlative sandwich, and we both felt like we’d wasted a meal. Disappointment eventually turned towards incredulousness, to the point where Adam actually had to check with the waiter to make sure that this was indeed the restaurant mentioned by Time Out and not some other Erwin, or an alternate, more-crappy burger.

All this being said, if the burger wasn’t $12 (which is a nickel more than the Rosebud’s, FYI), I’d let this go, because there’s really nothing about Erwin that suggests that it’s ever been gunning for first-place anything, ever. If I lived over there, I might stop in again…but I really doubt I’d ever have the burger again. Life’s too short.

[Note: Adam sent me the TOC review:

When’s the last time you wanted to sit and smell a burger more than you wanted to bite into it? That’s the reaction we had to this beauty, which is seasoned with garlic and a peppery chile sauce, topped with savory white cheddar and cooked over a wood-burning grill that imparts an incredible dose of smokiness.

Something weird's going on here: if that burger was seasoned with garlic, I couldn't tell, and there definitely wasn't any "peppery chile sauce" to be found.]

That's-A-Burger

2007-03-07T17:40:00.000-08:00

That's-A-Burger
2134 E 71ST St
Chicago, IL 60649-2116
773.493.2080

As the type of guy who likes to eat big but at the same time keep my JDate body type status at "proportional," That's-A-Burger (TAB) was the ideal spot. The massive piece of meat served here in no way feels unhealthy; it is a flavorful burger that emits virtually no grease. The lettuce and tomato are fresh, and the onions (grilled recommended, though they can be ordered raw) lend an appropriate juice to the burger's consistency.

Nat and I both had extremely high expectations for TAB, especially after reading Rene G's extensive dissection of the place on LTHForum. The pics looked serious; so we prepared for the venture by eating relatively tasteless lunches, me 2/3 of a mozzarella sandwich, Nat a sauteed chicken breast and asparagus. By 5pm, we were appropriately hungry, so we hopped in the car and headed down to 71st St. The place is extremely missable, modestly situated between manicure and check cashing venues on either side and sporting only a small yellow sign. Behind the bulletproof glass-enclosed cash register indoors, we noticed a large non-functional neon THAT'S-A-BURGER sign practically hidden along the wall, perhaps a remnant of days past. As has been well-documented, the venue has no seating, so we were lucky enough to have a car, in which to get down with the meal.

[Every visible spelling of the restaurant includes the apostrophe/S except for the small script on the door that read That-A-Burger. As Nat noted, the name may serve as somewhat of a subtle Yankee dig at the popular Southern chain, Whataburger]

It is very important to note that this is not a "Hey let's walk and eat" or "I'll take some bites on my bike" caliber burger. This is a meal that needs to be sat down for. Of course, Nat and I did order double-burgers--Nat's with cheese, peppers, and an egg, mine with bacon and peppers--but I cannot support placing a smaller order, unless of course you are rocking matching X chromosomes. A single burger weighs a half pound. The double burger + "everything" + fries sits right around a pound and a quarter to a pound and a half. The bag feels heavy in your hand, like carrying around a copy of The Tale of Genji.

For all of the praise I could give the burger, the fries were my favorite aspect of the meal. As the LTH thread notes, they are pre-salted and like the burger lack any excessive grease. Next to Hot Doug's fries, TAB's fries are the closest I have tasted to State Fair-caliber fries in Chicago. The amount provided, standard with every burger, was perfect. Not so many that they feel like an additional meal, not so few that they feel like a throw-in. The total amount of food consumed, as large as it was, in fact felt ideal. Incredibly filling, yet failing to produce any pre-volcanic gastric rupturing. And all for under $10.

[Double burger with bacon and jalapenos. Engaged in a staredown with this beast]

[Nat's piece. Double cheeseburger with peppers and an egg. This was Nat's alternate choice to the TAB Special--essentially the same burger but with chili and bacon as well, which the staff said was not being prepared that day. Consuming the TAB Special on our first voyage may have been hubris anyway. We'll be back]

After eating our food we paid a quick and unfruitful visit to both City Sports and Athlete's Foot looking for sneakers. City Sports displayed all their joints in shrinkwrap, which sort of instantly sterilizes even the nicest pair of kicks. Athlete's Foot advertised some surprisingly good deals on Air Alpha Force high tops, but nothing in the appropriate color (i.e. not white). Content with the excursion, we strolled back to the car and opened the door to a beautiful aroma:

"It smells like a meat doughnut in here."

"Yes, exactly."

Shalom

2007-03-07T17:36:00.000-08:00

This is a blog in which we (Nat and Adam) will eat at every one of Chicago's Top 55 burger spots as recommended by Time Out Chicago and write about our experiences with each one.