According to Food & Wine, the burger’s lineage dates all the way back to ancient Rome, who knew! The burger went through several iterations with the first appearance of the conventional flame grilled burger hitting taste palettes in 1891!
The cheeseburger tattooed on my left forearm is an ode to the solitary feast.
In Wes Anderson’s movie, The French Dispatch, Jeffery Wright’s character explains that as an American food writer in foreign lands, restaurants often serve as a home away from home and that the choreography of hospitality provides companionship. I have also spent many years traveling the world, often alone, and few meals have provided me a more familiar feeling of fellowship than a classic, American cheeseburger.
As a professional chef and lifelong burger enthusiast, I have researched, developed, and tasted hundreds of cheeseburgers and have devised a very particular rubric for what makes a good one.
The size of the burger is paramount. Two 3 - 4 oz patties seared on high heat with salt and pepper applied as it hits the griddle, and never any sooner, is ideal. The meat should be ground twice to ensure even fat distribution and increase surface area for a browner, crunchier crust. The formation of the patty itself is also a critical checkpoint - too much handling and shaping will affect the way that fat is distributed and will lead to protein cross-linking, causing a burger that has the bouncy texture of a meatball.
A sweet and tangy and spicy mayo based sauce (preferably Kewpie or Duke’s) is crucial. American cheese is preferred; cheddar is acceptable. It must all be contained in a soft and pillowy bun that should be made with nearly as much butter and potato as wheat flour to absorb the juices while maintaining structural integrity.
Once you put bacon on it we’re in an entirely different category and I am happy to write an equally lengthy blog on the subject. The craft of the patty melt is also a separate, but equally important topic that deserves a lengthier discussion.
JG Melon, on the Upper East Side, is the exception to this rule. The loosely packed patty held together with a blanket of cheese, cooked somewhere between medium and medium rare, so juicy and perfectly seasoned, with some spice and acidity and crunch from raw red onion and pickles, is a transcendent bite.
I don’t hate veggie burgers. Superiority Burger, in the East Village lives up to the hype. But to be honest, I’ve never had any veggie burger that I’ve enjoyed more than an average falafel pita. Carrie Young, formerly of Chapman’s in Columbus, makes the best veggie patty I’ve ever had. Ask her for the recipe if you’re curious.
I don’t eat fast food often, but if I have a guilty pleasure, it’s Wendy’s. I will always have a problematic relationship with a Jr Bacon Cheeseburger.
While I have this platform, it’s important to recognize that we should probably all be eating fewer burgers. It’s up for debate if we should even be eating burgers at all. I could recite arguments from Alicia Kennedy, Frances Lappé, and Jonathon Safron Foer for days in a futile attempt to absolve myself of my constant and ongoing sins.