Post # 13 Atria Restaurant/Brick Cellar Bar

Atria Restaurant/Brick Cellar Bar
137 Main St.
Edgartown, MA 02539
atriamv.com

Of the many things I enjoy doing on Martha's Vineyard, several culinary outings have become "must dos" summer after summer. Sipping a Mermaid Farm Blueberry Lassie while watching the bulls in their morning pasture across Middle Road is one. Eating a cheeseburger smothered in Barbie Fenner's JD sauce on The Galley's back deck is another (see Post # 9 ). Slurping shucked clams with my wife on the sun-drenched docks behind Menemsha Fish Market never sucks; and imbibing in at least one but no more than three Holy Water martinis at the Park Corner Bistro is always a high point.

Hmm...a martini blog? Now that could be fun.

  

Surf

Turf

Mirth

   














This past summer I experienced a culinary curiosity to add to my traditions.

Have you ever eaten a McDonald's Big Mac and felt disgusting afterward--or disgusted with yourself? To a point where you need a shower but know that no amount of absolution will cleanse you of your indulgences? What if you could experience the salty, greasy, sinful taste of a Big Mac without the emotional disgust or physical damage?

That's the concept of the McRip Off Burger, developed by Christian Thornton, chef/owner of Edgartown's Atria Restaurant. The McRip Off is one of many burgers Thornton offers in Atria's Brick Cellar Bar downstairs, and it is as close to a guilt-free, farm-to-table Big Mac as you will find...as oxymoronic as that sounds.

The sign out front upscale Atria Restaurant. For killer burgers, head downstairs.

Chef Thornton with his favorite blogger

The McRip Off and the Big Mac are similar in that each features (chant with me, people) two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun. But the
marketing mantra, and surprisingly comparable tastes, are where the similarities end. While a Big Mac's meat is of dubious age and make-up, the two, four-ounce patties of the McRip Off are made from super fresh, hand-formed, 80/20 Angus beef. While a Big Mac's tomatoes are tasteless. lettuce listless and onions without odor, the McRip features farm fresh Martha's Vineyard produce whenever available. While a Big Mac's pickles are generic and special sauce nothing special, Atria makes its own pickles and sauce, and both are pretty special. Thornton has brought a chef's sensibilities to engineering the burger; so while a Big Mac is an assembly-line atrocity compiled by dazed high schoolers, the McRip Off is a handcrafted masterpiece prepared by serious chefs who love and respect food. When the ingredients are combined, the McRip Off tastes curiously like a Big Mac, but it does so while being fresh, authentic and clean.

OMG...this burger. Holy Shit.

I enjoyed two McRip Offs this summer: one with Scott, who introduced me to it after one but no more than three Holy Waters, and another with my glutenista wife Alicia, who sat patiently over a plate of goat cheese and portabellas as I burgasmed on a bar stool. The salt and grease components were high and spot on, the yellow American cheese was melted perfectly over the vegetable trifecta, and the Fireking Bakery bun was the quintessential burger girdle. Simply put, the eating experiences were ambrosial.

The only drawback to the McRip Off might be its name. At 19 bucks a pop, I don't want a hint of being McRipped off while I'm Loving It. After all, the price tag is almost three times that of a JD Burger and twice as much as a dozen shucked clams. But no matter how many clams it costs, the McRip Off is a hundred times better than a Big Mac, and comes with a psychological Get Out Of Jail Free card. Not to mention a generous helping of crispy, salty fries.

And besides, this is Edgartown we're talking about. By that measuring stick, the McRip Off is worth every penny. And worthy of inclusion in anybody's MV traditions.

Score: 9.3 out of 10 Napkins

Post # 12 Tommy's Original Hamburgers

Tommy's Original Hamburgers

2575 W. Beverly Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA

originaltommys.com

Happy Burger has been on sabbatical the past few months and over that time a handful of people (okay, two) have inquired about our absence. With such validation, I'm compelled to fire up the blog again. I've recently returned from a family vacation in LA where I scarfed a memorable burger, so it's fitting to feature it here.

Our son Spencer was unable to join us for the trip, which left our family's 50/50, male/female balance out of whack. I loved traveling with the girls, but the estrogen-heavy environment quickly became apparent. Hearing phrases like, "We need to buy a curling iron!" and "I can't go to the beach until my nails are dry!" and  "We need to buy a straightening iron!" became commonplace.

The learning curve: Wet nails = pool. Dry nails = beach

My minority status was most obvious when voting on places to eat. Alicia is gluten-free and our daughter Chace threatens to become a vegetarian almost daily, so dining on sushi and salads became the norm. By the morning of day four I was more than ready for a burger.

A friend of the blog who knew of our trip had told me of a place called Tommy's Original Hamburgers, so I gave it a Google. Tommy's is a West Coast chain with thirty-five locations, but the original ramshackle shack that started it all, in 1946, continues to be the company's most popular venue. The place is fairly famous, having been featured in several movies over its sixty year run. Celebrities of film, TV, sports and politics all frequent the place, along with a colorful array of LA denizens and tourists. It is open 24/7/365 and offers little beyond burgers and dogs, all topped with a healthy ladle of chili unless requested otherwise. Everything is insanely cheap, and best of all, the shack is located just a couple of miles from where we were staying, at the corner of Beverly and Rampart Boulevards. The more I read about Tommy's, the more I had to experience it.

I quickly devised a breakfast plan to satisfy all palates: a stop at Tommy's for a chili burger for moi, followed by a trip to a gluten-free crepe place in Westwood for Alicia, and ending with a short walk into the shadow of UCLA to Stan's Donuts or Diddy Riese Ice Cream & Cookies (each famous in its own right) for a treat for Chace.

By the time the girls were up and primped and out of the hotel it was close to ten, and upon reaching Tommy's a line had formed as straight as Chace's hair down Rampart Blvd. People were smiling and talking in the queue while others stood at outdoor counters devouring chili burgers, chili dogs and chili fries. The girls voiced amazement that anyone would eat chili anything at 10 AM. I felt a sense of belonging and quickly joined the line.

Hanging with my brethren at the corner of Beverly and Rampart

The line moved fast and the middle-aged woman taking orders was uncommonly polite. This surprised me, as food shack workers aren't known for their patience. Decades ago I had visited a popular hot dog stand in Wells, Maine called Flo's. Flo's was legendary Down East, mostly because of its ornery owner, Flo. She was a big woman who looked like somebody's mamma you'd have trouble throwing from a train. She insulted whoever ordered a hot dog prepared any way but hers, (boiled, topped with celery salt and mayo) and was rumored to have pulled a shot gun on someone suggesting she expand her menu beyond dogs. During my visit I was unarmed, so I played it safe and ordered a couple of celery dogs. But I made the mistake of asking for milk to drink. Flo slammed a half-pint carton on the counter and snarled at me to sniff it first because only losers drink milk and I was the first loser in the place for some time.

As fun as all that sounds, I liked the welcoming vibe at Tommy's, which was shared by staff and patrons alike. All walks of life were represented in the queue...Rich, Poor, Black, White, Latino, Middle Eastern, Asian, Male, Female, Young, Old...and all had a simple, common bond: a desire to experience a delicious, artery clogging Tommy burger or dog.

Tommy's double chili cheeseburger. Nutritional values unavailable

Regardless of how unhealthy they may be, Tommy burgers ARE delicious. They are big and greasy and salty and messy, exactly how a burger at an outdoor shack should be. After sampling Tommy's double chili cheeseburger I almost went back for a chili dog, but a donut or two were in my future...and an ice cream sandwich, as it turned out.

Donut # 1: Peanut Butter stuffed with chocolate frosting and chocolate chips

The Diddy Riese mocha ice cream sammy that almost sunk me

It was fun hanging with a fraternity who saw nothing unusual about chowing chili cheeseburgers for breakfast. But it was also fun getting back to my traveling companions...and sushi and salad, straight and wavy hair, and prettily painted nails.

Score: 8.4 out of 10 Napkins

Happy Burger Scores

Happy Burger Scores 9/17/15

    

JM Curley

Boston, MA

9.3 out of 10 Napkins

Boston Burger Company

Somerville, MA

9 out of 10 Napkins

Shaws Fish and Lobster Wharf Restaurant

Bristol, ME

9 out of 10 Napkins

Corey's Catsup and Mustard

Manchester, CT

8.75 out of 10 Napkins

The Menemsha Galley

Menemsha, MA

8.75 out of 10 Napkins

                 

Mr. Bartley's Burger Cottage

Cambridge, MA

8.5 out of 10 Napkins

Tommy's Original Hamburgers

Los Angeles, CA

8.4 out of 10 Napkins

Lee's Burgers Place

Newton, MA

8.25 out of 10 Napkins

Wild Willy's

Watertown, MA

8 out of 10 Napkins

Deluxe Town Diner

Watertown, MA

7.5 out of 10 Napkins

Charlie's Kitchen

Cambridge, MA

7.25 out of 10 Napkins

R.F. O'Sullivan & Son

Somerville, MA

6.5 out of 10 Napkins

Post # 11 Corey's Catsup and Mustard

Corey's Catsup and Mustard
623 Main Street
Manchester, CT 06040
catsupandmustard.com

My wife and I sat steely-eyed across from one another at a table at Corey’s Catsup and Mustard, a Triple D featured burger joint outside of Hartford. We had placed our order thirty minutes earlier and Alicia was getting antsy. Having a long drive back to Boston, she wanted to get home to our kids. I wanted to get home, too, but only after eating the delicious burger I knew would soon arrive.

As her frustration mounted, I tried channeling a Zen state, but Zen states are hard to channel when your wife is exclaiming, “I haven’t seen our waitress in ten minutes" and “That table being served ordered after us."

Om...Om...Um...?

Triple D approved: Corey's C&M

I knew my burger would be delicious because I'd eaten at Corey’s once before (alone at the bar, I might add) and my cheeseburger was amazing. This was before Happy Burger began featuring regional fare (posts # 7 and # 9) so instead of writing about the experience, I filed it away.

Since that time, the excellence of that Corey’s burger has nagged at me to where it has taken on mythical proportions in my mind. I had ordered something called The Rodeo, topped with fried shoestring onions, BBQ sauce, cheddar cheese, bacon, ranch dressing and served on a sesame seed bun. The combination of flavors and textures made for a truly burgasmic eating experience; but was The Rodeo as perfect in reality as it was in my memory?

The evocative Rodeo Burger

Sidekick Scott was out of town, so here I sat across from a woman who is gluten free, anxious to get home to the kids and not a burger enthusiast to begin with. As my wife's patience neared it's peak... “Another minute and I'm having it packed to go!"...I focused hard on Zen and the Art of Marital Stability.

“Are you positive this place was on Triple D?!?"

Om...Om...Om...

"It's cold in here!"

Om...Om...Om...

When our food finally arrived, Alicia took a first bite, and asked, “Is your burger hot? My bun-less sliders are room temperature. Which means they're freezing.”

OOOMMM...OOOMMM...OOOMMM...

I tried to imagine that my burger was hot. I tried to visualize it being cooked to perfection as the first had been. I tried envisioning myself sitting alone at the bar. But even in a Zen state I couldn't pretend that my wife wasn't right. The six ounce, 80/20 Angus patty was barely warm. Worse, it had been flat griddled to an unsatisfactory medium-well instead of "on the way to medium" as ordered. The fact that Corey's beef is trucked in twice daily from a local source (a tidbit gleaned from a hostess during our ample wait) was only a sad footnote.

Still, even tepid and overcooked, The Rodeo rivaled many we've featured in Happy Burger. The combination of fresh, seasoned meat, salty bacon and sweet BBQ sauce made for a lively tap dance on my taste buds. The mellow yellow gooey deliciousness of the cheese was complimented by the tangy ranch dressing. The bun's thin crusty outer shell and crispy shoestring onions contrasted nicely with the bun's doughy soft interior. No doubt the combination of textures and flavors had been tinkered with meticulously by talented chefs until they thought the perfect amalgamation had been reached.

And it had. Only this time the execution was off.

On the road home to the kids two things were readily apparent: a recipe is only as good as its implementation, and, while a good wife is right an annoyingly high percentage of the time, a good husband is one who learns ways to deal with it.

Om...Om...Om...

The score below reflects the average of both Corey’s experiences. 

Score: 8.75 out of 10 napkins

(Since this writing I've visited Corey's  a third time, again alone, and I am still in search of that elusive burger. It was better than the last burger but worse than the first. A 9.1 on its own.)

Post # 10 Mr. Bartley's Burger Cottage, Cambridge, MA

Mr. Bartley's Burger Cottage
1246 Massachusetts Avenue
Cambridge, MA 02138
mr.bartley.com

Had it really been twenty-five years since I'd eaten at Bartley's? Considering my fond memories, I should have been back decades ago. What's not to like about a historic, fast-paced burger joint in the heart of Harvard Square...one that's always packed and offers a carnival atmosphere...with a wait staff barking food orders to cooks over customers' heads...oodles of accumulated memorabilia lining every inch of wall space...locals, students, tourists and burger buffs cheek to jowl at wooden tables chatting between bites...and everybody happily a part of the same scene that Bob Dylan, Jackie O., Johnny Cash and countless others have enjoyed since Joe and Joan Bartley opened their little establishment in 1960?

  

Vivid memories for sure, but I 'd forgotten about the line to get in, which upon arrival seemed to have only grown with time. Scott and I took our places at the end and quickly learned a reason: it was parents' weekend at Harvard, and most of them were ahead of us with their prodigy.

Quick! Find the incorrect grammar!!

A waitress hoofed down to the end of the line and gave us menus. We read the list of burgers, named after politicians, celebrities, local sports legends and tid bits of pop culture: The Putin, The Jimmy Fallon, The Tom Brady, the Hash Tag...twenty-two burgers in all. Joe Bartley sat on a stool several yards up, keeping warm in a blue parka while taking orders from patrons as they shuffled by. Wife Joan, looking both cooler and hotter in her own blue parka, played hostess, collecting the orders from Joe and timing their placement with the grill staff to when she had a table available.
       

The Bartleys run a well-oiled machine, and with fifty-four years experience it's no wonder. One would think they'd be ensconced in some Florida beach community by now, counting their money and sipping Mai Tai's; but what got them here keeps them here, and what keeps them here, what keeps us all here (even twenty-five years later) are the burgers.

Scott's People's Republic of Cambridge Burger

Beacuse of Bartley's volume, (on this Saturday alone they'll go through about 300 pounds of beef) Joe has the luxury of having the meat flown in daily from a source in Montana. The Certified Angus arrives pre-ground in bulk, and seven ounce patties are pressed by machine on premises. Years ago, Joe would shower the meat with Accent before cooking; nowadays, he adds only a bit of kosher salt, relying instead on the meat's freshness for the burger's flavor.

These burgers do, in fact, have a very meaty, fresh taste to them. Scott's People's Republic of Cambridge Burger, topped with slaw and Russian dressing and served on a La Ronga Bakery roll, was big and beefy and cooked perfectly to a bright pink medium rare. My Joe Biden Burger, with bacon, American cheese and BBQ sauce, was cooked to an equally perfect, pale pink "on the way to medium." Again, no surprise, as Joe and Joan's son, Bill, has worked the grill since he was fourteen, some forty years ago. Needless to say, the dude's got the hang of it.

After a selfie with Joan on the way out, I found Joe in his car in the parking space directly in front of the restaurant. The line had thinned to a point where he was able to take a lunch break: Chinese from a neighboring restaurant, which he ate with a plastic fork from a Styrofoam container. I asked about the many burger joints that have popped up in the Square in recent years. He said he'd been curious about them, and sent his staff out to test the burgers. The results confirmed his hunch. The burgers were okay, but the meat wasn't fresh like his.

Score: 8.50 out of 10 napkins

Post # 9 The Menemsha Galley

The Menemsha Galley

515 North Road

Menemsha, MA 02552

menemshagalley@aol.com

In the introduction to Happy Burger we gave a shout out to The Menemsha Galley as a place that serves consistently awesome burgers summer after summer. I’m happy to report the tradition continues.

Tucked away at the tip of picturesque Menemsha Harbor on Martha's Vineyard, The Galley is primarily known for its killer lobster rolls, clam chowder and fresh swordfish sandwiches. That's logical considering a sea-to-table distance of about 100 yards, and a co-owner (Barbie Fenner) who is a CIA trained chef. I'm unable to comment on Barbie’s seafood though, as throughout my fifteen year love affair with The Galley I’ve ordered nothing but burgers. 

The Galley's sign , with burgers listed a distant third

In a recent post (see post # 5) I suggested that one's mood at the time of eating can influence a review, and no doubt that's the case here. In an effort at full disclosure, I admit to having been in a great mood every time I ate at The Galley. And why not? I’m on vacation, I’m with family or good friends, and I’m sitting in a postcard setting eating a burger.

The view from The Galley's back porch eating area

I visited The Galley three times this past summer (once with sidekick Scott, once with my wife Alicia, and once with Alicia, our twins, my parents, my brother, my two sisters, a brother-in-law, a baker's half-dozen of nieces and nephews, and a dog.) All three times I was in a great mood, but good mood or not, there's no denying the place serves a scrumptious burger. Made from 80/20 Certified Angus, the patty is smaller than others we’ve tried, but no less delicious. On each of the three occasions I topped it with cheese, lettuce, tomato and Barbie’s homemade Jack Daniels sauce. The cheese was always melted thoroughly over the patty, the lettuce and tomato crisp and cool, the griddled, sesame seed bun crunchy-fresh, and Barbie’s smokey-sweet, oniony JD sauce complex enough to add mouth appeal without overwhelming the other flavors.

A Galley cheeseburger with Jack Daniels sauce

Scott was equally impressed with his burger on our visit, and no doubt Alicia would have been too if she'd ordered one. Since our cleanse (see post #3) she's gone gluten-free, and settled for a roll-less lobster roll. It sounds lame, but she loved it.

Another thing to love about The Galley is the pricing, which is very reasonable considering we're talking about Martha's Vineyard here, and are surrounded by a quintessentially Vineyard-esque view when eating.

Next time you’re driving up-island, after you've stopped in on Geoffrey at Chilmark pottery, bought a jar of homemade honey at Our Honey, downed a drinkable yogurt at Mermaid Farm and procured tomatoes and corn at Beetlebung for dinner, cut over to North Road and take it to the very end. On the right you'll find The Menemsha Galley. Stroll to the take-out window, place an order for a cheeseburger with Barbie's JD sauce, find a seat out back overlooking the harbor, and hope it takes a long, long time 'til your burger arrives. It doesn't get much better.

                                          Three generations of Leubas enjoying their annual pilgrimage to The Galley

Score: 8.75 napkins out of 10.

Post #8 JM Curley, Boston, MA

JM Curley
21 Temple Place
Boston, MA 02111
jmcurleyboston.com

The facade of JM Curley, in the Downtown Crossing section of Boston, looks like a setting from a Ben Afleck mob movie. It is austere and eerie, to a point where being gunned down on the sidewalk seems entirely plausible. Inside, the vibe is less dodgy, but only slightly. On the afternoon I was there, Jay Z was in a foul mood on the box and PBR was served in cans. A handful of urban denizens lingered at scattered tables and a miasma of the previous night's debauchery clung to everything. 

A storefront you wouldn't want to linger in front of.

I sat at the bar nursing a beer while waiting for Scott. He was a half hour late and I wondered if he had tired of being fodder for Happy Burger. I hoped not, as his unexpected antics make these posts easy to write. I called his cell and hung up when I got his voice mail. Just as I was about to order, he barged through the door wearing a fake cop's hat with attached dreadlocks.

"No worries, mon...I'm here!"

Okay, it was Halloween, but I didn't expect it; and just like that two paragraphs were written.

Similar to Happy Burger, JM Curley doesn't take itself too seriously. Reading the house rules on a chalk board above the bar had told me so:

NO COVETING THY NEIGHBOR'S DRINK

NO SHRIEKING OR BELLOWING

NO GROPING OR GRAB ASSING

NO FOUL LANGUAGE

Scott took a seat at the bar, pointed to the chalk board, and bellowed: "WHAT'S WITH THE FUCKING SIGN?" He then eyed my beer thirstily while waiting for his own to arrive. 

The girl behind the bar wore a powder blue mini dress with bobby socks and patent leather shoes. A clip in her hair kept her locks pulled to the side. An identical outfit was worn by one of the waitresses, and later we'd learn they were dressed as the Grady twins from the movie The Shining. Rastafarian Peace Officer Scott took an immediate shine to the bartender. After receiving his beer, he tipped his cop's hat her way and asked if she had a thing for men in uniform. I braced for a grab assing.

Curley's is a casual place, but our research had shown them to be serious about their house burger, which is topped with griddled onions, cheddar, Pop's Russian dressing and pickles. A 5 ounce version is served at lunch, a 9 ouncer at dinner. Either way, the research proved correct as ounce for ounce these burgers are delicious. At the risk of ruining the suspense, the lunch burgers we ate during our first visit rivaled any we've had. The burger was so good, we ordered a second after finishing the first, and we haven't stopped thinking about either.

Curley's amazingly delicious house burger

Discussing the merits of the first burger, Nicole the bartender said it was the combination of homemade Russian dressing and homemade pickles that set it apart from others. Scott thought the generously salted and peppered patty was the key. I liked the burger's unpretentious, simple construction. Served on the incomparable Piantedosi roll, it arrived on a tin plate with a big glob of spicy slaw next to it. The burger itself carried some heat, but like the slaw it wasn't over-spiced. It just had an unexpected bite to it. Like Scott.

Nicole asked if we wanted the second burger "Filthy Andy" style, which meant topped with slaw and fries. Smothering that near perfect burger with French fries seemed silly, but we did add some of the spicy slaw when the plates arrived. After first bite, Scott pounded his fist on the bar and shrieked, "HOLY SHIT, NICOLE, THAT'S A MOTHER FUCKING AWESOME BURGER!" 

The last rule on the chalk board above the bar at JM Curley states, "JUST DON'T BE A DOUCHEBAG." Perhaps they have a liberal definition, because after hearing Scott's praise, Grady twin Nicole poured the three of us a shot on the house. 

I was pretty sure she wouldn't get the ax for it.

Score: 9.3 out of 10 napkins.