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.

Post # 7 Shaw's Fish & Lobster Wharf Restaurant

After eating several awesome burgers this summer while travelling, I realize that writing about only Boston burgers is unfair to the other great burgers out there. Therefore, we'll sprinkle in some out-of-town spots where the burgers rival the best we’ve discussed. If these hidden gems are already favorites, you might feel a certain in-the-know pride as we sing their praises, sort of like how I feel when a much loved deep cut comes on my favorite radio station at the bottom of the dial.

Shaw's Fish & Lobster Wharf Restaurant
129 Maine 32
Bristol, ME 04554
207 677 2200

One time years ago I said this about my buddy Scott: “We joke around a lot, but we also talk seriously about our problems. And what I like most about Scott is, when listening to his problems I realize how small mine are.”

I said this at a time when drama followed Scott like a faithful puppy. But his fortunes have turned and we now talk mostly about burgers. Like the one I had at Shaw’s Fish & Lobster Wharf Restaurant, in Bristol, Maine. 

Earlier this summer, as Scott’s new and beautiful and extraordinarily wealthy girlfriend prepared to leave for yet another international vacation without him, she asked which of her two summer homes (the lake house or the coast house) he'd like to hang at while she was gone. He picked the coast house, and asked me along.

The beautiful and extraordinary coast house

We'd been exploring the Booth Bay region all morning when we came upon Shaw’s on Round Pond in Bristol. Shaw’s isn’t much to look at from the outside, but once you climb the side stairs to the back porch you’re treated to a view that’s quintessentially Maine. Lobster boats, skiffs and Boston Whalers undulate in a quiet cove while gulls hover over fishing enterprises along the jagged coast.

The view from Shaw's back porch

As you might expect, Shaw’s Fish & Lobster Wharf Restaurant is a Restaurant on a Wharf that features Fish and Lobster. And that, to me, is a good reason to try their burger, as good seafood shacks often make great burgers. Scott saw it differently, and even when threatened with a second banishment from Happy Burger (see post # 3) he ordered a lobster. Well, he missed out, as this was the best burger I’d had since Happy Burger's inception.

Scott, happily burying his head in yet another clam

The patty is a full 6 ounces of preformed 80/20 chuck. It is char-grilled, and while I usually prefer a flat griddled burger (the escaped juices sear back into the meat to create a more flavorful bark) the bark on this burger was well worth the bite. Curiously, the sesame seed bun is, in fact, flat griddled, and it too is delicious. 

Pardon the half eaten burger. I couldn't wait.

What separates Shaw’s burger from others is the attention to seasonings. Before being cooked the patty is sprinkled liberally with Monterrey steak flavoring. During cooking it is painted (quite literally with a house paintbrush) with melted garlic butter containing four additional seasonings. I asked the chef what they were but he wouldn't budge. Apparently, it's a secret as closely guarded as Col. Sander's. But that's all well and good, as a bit of mystery adds flavor to any relationship.

This is a truly outstanding burger. Coupled with the view from the back porch and a coast house to return to, it's hard to beat.

Score: 9 out of 10 napkins

Post # 6 Lee's Burgers Place, Newton, MA

Lee's Burgers Place
216 Summer Street
Newton, MA 02459
www.leesburgers.com

On our way over to Lee's, Scott and I got lost in Watertown. It was a beautiful day and Scott was driving his son's sweet new jeep with the top down. We didn't Google Map it. We just sniffed our way toward the burgers while discussing various topics of the day...one of which was the irony of a father having to ask his son's permission to borrow a jeep the father paid for. It was a half hour before we found Lee's, and by then Scott didn't want to talk anymore.

The original Lee's Burgers was in Harvard Square, but high rents forced a move to Newton Center. There was also an original Lee, as in, a guy named Lee, who owned it. His wife and a slew of family helped run it, making it a happy place with a Mom and Pop feel. A couple of years after moving to Newton, Lee sold it, and now the only relation involved is a nephew. It's still a happy place though, and still Mom and Pop-ish.

The nephew of the original Lee, cooking burgers

Lee's is funky, as in down-to-earth and laid back as opposed to armpitty or Grand Master Flashy. It's a tiny spot, seating only 14 people, with mint green walls and a very friendly staff. The girl who took our order was young and good looking and the most friendly of all the friendly people there. Having a good looking girl take your order won't make your burger taste better, but it doesn't hurt. As we ate, she came over and commented on the sweet ride we'd pulled up in. Scott thanked her, then thanked her again. When he thanked her a third time I felt compelled to mention he'd needed his son's permission to borrow it. She thought this was funny. He, not so much.

Scott, the laid back, jeep-drivin' stud

Lee's serves other items, but the focus is burgers, which start at $ 4.99 and include lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles. Other add-ons are extra, but not a lot extra. It's "cheap eats" as Scott likes to say, and a great burger for the money. The patties are six ounces of flame-grilled, pre-formed 100% ground sirloin, served on a perfectly adequate, toasted, sesame seed bun. Restaurants take pride in using sirloin over chuck because of its higher quality; but higher quality means less fat, and fat equals flavor. Lee's compensates by offering a special sauce, a concoction of mayo, mustard, honey and spices that's well known among area burger aficionados. No question the sauce is great, it's even good on the killer onion rings, but Scott and I agreed that Lee's relies on it too heavily for the burger's flavor. Even slathered on, we felt something was missing. Perhaps Mr. Lee took the salt shaker with him when he sold the place. 

Lee's bacon cheeseburger with special sauce

Back in the jeep, Scott summed it up in his own unique way. "I can still taste that delicious ingredient that was missing from my burger," he mused, looking longingly through the restaurant's window.

Knowing exactly what he meant tells me we hang out too much.

Score: 8.25 napkins out of 10.

Post # 5 R.F. O'Sullivan & Son, Somerville, MA

R.F. O’Sullivan & Son

282 Beacon Street

Somerville, MA 02431

www.rf-osullivan.com

When I evaluate a burger, subconscious factors no doubt influence my evaluation. For example, if I drive off to yet another burger joint and my wife yells from the porch, “I thought you were raking leaves today!” my burger will likely taste less delicious than if she’d said, “Have a great adventure, Burgerman!”

Keeping this in mind, I try not to be overly critical in this blog. Burger greatness is a personal assessment. Yet, when a certain restaurant is continually praised by critics, the general public usually falls in line. Which brings us to R. F. O’Sullivan & Son, one of the most press-covered and praised burger joints in the Boston area. So much attention has gone O’Sullivan’s way, people show up these days just to see what all the talking is about. What’s curious about O’Sullivan's is, while there are many backers, there are also detractors, and everybody with an opinion is convinced his is the right one. Including moi.

The stately exterior of R.F. O'Sullivan & Son

On the Sunday Scott and I tried O’Sullivan's, the restaurant had been featured on The Phantom Gourmet that very morning. By the time we arrived, throngs of salivating carnivores were charging the entrance like lemmings toward a cliff. Pulling to the curb, we saw Richard Sullivan, the owner, out front on the sidewalk, smiling. And why wouldn’t he be? Free advertising had once again blessed his little establishment, and the faithful were flocking as if to Mecca.

Before heading inside, I asked Richard about his well known refusal to squash his burgers with a spatula during cooking. He replied, in effect, that squashing is akin to blasphemy. As if to dare people to question this belief, he also defiantly forms his patties the size and shape of softballs.

O'Sullivan's Cheddar and Onion Sauce Burger

I understand the reason for not squashing a burger during cooking. The more you squash, the more juice escapes. But wouldn't it be wise to start with a shape that’s conducive to eating? No doubt O’Sullivan’s burgers are big and juicy. A half pound of beef is used per burger, making it seem like a great value; but bigger isn’t always better, juicy isn’t always delicious, and value rarely equals excellence. For having so much juice, O’Sullivan’s burgers are surprisingly light on flavor. And because the patty is roundish, the burger is impossible to keep together, let alone eat. It’s just a big hunk of meat with condiments sliding from under the top bun while non-seasoned juices drench the bottom bun until it's a soggy mess. Which is exactly what happened to my Cheddar and Onion Sauce Burger. Halfway through, I gave up and ate the remaining shrapnel with a fork.

Plus, the restaurant smelled of fish when we entered.

Okay, I’m being overly critical, but hearing continual praise compels me to speak up. The emperor is wearing no clothes, people!

After finishing our burgers, Scott and I struck up a conversation with the couple sitting next to us. They’d seen The Phantom Gourmet segment earlier that morning and immediately drove up from Westport, MA to be a part of the scene. Sure enough, they had only accolades for the burgers they’d eaten. But wouldn’t they have felt foolish driving all that way for subpar burgers? Could it be that subconscious factors influenced their evaluation?  

As for me, I almost wished I'd stayed home and raked the leaves.

Score: 6.5 out of 10 napkins

Post # 4 Wild Willy's, Watertown, MA

Wild Willy’s

46 Arsenal Street

Watertown, MA 02472

www.wildwillysburgers.com

As Scott and I negotiate his return to Happy Burger (see post # 3) riding shotgun again this week is my son Spencer. That being the case, I picked a place a boy can appreciate: Wild Willy’s in Watertown.

The Watertown outpost of Wild Willy's

Wild Willy’s is a chain, and while restaurant chains can conjure negative connotations, many of today’s burger chains (and there are a lot of them) serve decent products. UBurger, Five Guys, B Good, Tasty Burger, Shake Shack…they all demand respect, and not just for focusing unapologetically on the craft of burger making.

A couple of years ago, my wife--who over our quarter century together has developed an if-you-can't-beat-'em,-eat-'em, attitude about burgers--accompanied me to a new Uburger promoting its Grand Opening with a free burger giveaway. The giveaway seemed like a brilliant idea to me, and to about a million others, too. Before setting foot in the place, Alicia and I waited in line for 45 minutes in a driving rainstorm among all the other drowned-rat cheapskates, and if that wasn't indignity enough, a WBZ camera crew filmed us for a segment on the evening's news. Yet, after getting inside and eating the burgers, I had to admit that the soggy, demoralizing experience was worth it. Right then I realized that the burgers from these chains are nothing to turn your nose up at...and that there's little I won't do for a free one.

Wild Willy’s has six locations sprinkled throughout Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine. It is a ride 'em cowboy, western-themed chain, which is kind of hokey and has nothing to do with burgers, but whatevs. At the Watertown "outpost", as the company affectionately refers to them, a stagecoach doubles as a condiment stand and a mural of a prairie with cows trudging through it graces the back wall. Continuing on the theme, the burgers have names like The Annie Oakley, The Mustang, The Stampede and The Wrangler. You get the picture.

Wild Willy's cowpoke interior

The burgers at Wild Willy’s are of good size, 6 ounces apiece, and you can choose among three types of beef: Certified Angus, All Natural from Pinefield Farms and Tender Bison. The patties are hand-formed daily, seasoned with salt and pepper and charbroiled. Hoping to repeat my Killer Bee experience from the Boston Burger Company (see post # 1) I decided on the Certified Angus Bubba Burger, which is constructed with a similar list of toppings: cheese, hickory-smoked bacon, onions, pickles and BBQ sauce. After ordering at the front counter, my pard'ner and I moseyed over to a table by the prairie landscape, hunkered down and prepared to put on the ol' feedbag. I almost wished I'd brought along a harmonica to blow wistful tunes on as we waited.

When our grub arrived, the burgers were wrapped "to-go" style in foiled paper. I don't know why a burger would be wrapped to go when it's to be eaten inside. I would think that naked on a beat up tin plate would have been more apropos for Wild Willy's.

Wild Willy's Bubba Burger. The photo doesn't do it justice.

After getting the wrapping off and cutting the burger in half, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the meat was cooked “on the way to medium," as ordered. I ate the first half so fast I was concerned I wouldn’t feel full after finishing the second, so I slowed down. By last bite I felt a nice bloat coming on and was ready to douse the campfire and undo the bed roll.

While the burger was not up to the culinary level of the Killer Bee, it made for a fine eating experience. Let me explain it this way: regarding an entirely different subject it's been said by men worldwide that there's no such thing as a bad one. If the same is true for burgers, then although this one didn't blow me away, it didn't suck either.

Score: 8 out of 10 napkins

Post # 3 Charlie's Kitchen, Cambridge, MA

Charlie’s Kitchen

10 Eliot Street

Cambridge, MA 02138

www.charlieskitchen.com

A couple of weeks were skipped between Happy Burger’s trip to Deluxe Town Diner (see Post # 2) and the next outing to Charlie’s Kitchen in Harvard Square. That’s because I was involved in an unanticipated ten day food cleanse orchestrated by my wife Alicia, who anticipated a cleanse for herself and lobbied stridently for company. She suggested I’d feel guilty eating burgers as she enjoyed a healthy detox, and while I tried hard to convince her I could handle any potential guilt, she was far more convincing in telling me I could not. Long story short, I joined her in what she described as, “a fun little adventure we both can share.” 

For a week and a half we subsisted on flax seed shakes, nuts, raw vegetables, six ounce allotments of fish or chicken and water by the gallon. No processed food, no gluten, no dairy, no sugar, no caffeine, no alcohol.

NO BURGERS.

NO FUN.

A morning flax seed shake in the making. Yum!

Midafternoon snack. De-Lish!

By day five I was jonesing for some real food and began combing restaurant websites for Scott's and my next burger outing. When kale smoothies are positioned as "an exciting change of pace," perusing pictures of bacon burgers draped in drippy cheese might seem masochistic, but it helped remind me of what awaited at the end of the tunnel. With a few days left in the cleanse, I called Scott and we made a plan to head to Charlie’s Kitchen in Cambridge that coming Sunday, the day after Alicia's and my “fun little adventure we both can share" would be over.

On Saturday I texted Scott, and that’s when something curious happened. Scott, who is never without his phone and always up for anything, went AWOL on me. I texted two more times Saturday night and again on Sunday morning reminding him of our outing, but he didn't reply.

Needless to say, I went without him, as a good burger waits for no man.

I remember Charlie’s Kitchen from when Alicia and I moved to Boston in 1990 before we got married. She was not as into burgers as I was, so I’d hop the T and go to Charlie’s alone for their famous Double Cheese. It sounds sad and lonely, but three years later we got hitched and now have awesome seventeen year old boy/girl twins, so no need to feel overly sorry for me. Especially when one of the twins is seriously into burgers. For this trip I replaced Scott with my son Spencer.

Twin number one (sequentially speaking)

On Eliot Street, on the back side of Harvard Square, with a triumphant sign on its two story façade proclaiming “The Double Cheese Burger King,” you’ll find the refreshingly divey Charlie’s Kitchen. Charlie's has been a Harvard Square institution for over six decades and is one of the area's last remaining haunts from yesteryear. It's a place where bikers and professors chat with equal zeal about Harleys, homers and Homer while downing beers and burgers...all while being served by Helen Metros, the Grand Dame of waitressing who has worked the booths for 53 years.

Charlie’s has two floors. The downstairs room is typically dineresque, while upstairs is more bar-like. There’s also a deck out back where the college kids hang, and a few tables out front by the sidewalk where in good weather just about everybody likes to be. On the sunny Saturday Spencer and I showed up, the sidewalk tables were packed so we sat upstairs at a table by a TV set. After placing orders with an impressively tattooed waitress decades younger than Helen, we watched the Red Sox stumble through an inning until the food arrived. It should be no surprise what I ordered. Charlie's is the Double Cheese Burger King after all.

Charlie’s doesn’t try too hard, and that’s part of its charm. The burgers aren't over-engineered or given cute names or made into things they are not. The patties are thin and greasy (made of 80% preformed Certified Angus) and the bun is like what you'd buy in an eight pack at Stop and Shop... but the good kind with sesame seeds. All of which is fine by me if my mood is right. My only complaint is that the patties are so small and thin that the bun dwarfs them. One look and you realize why Charlie’s is the Double Cheese Burger King. One burger just isn’t enough to bring the burger-to-bun ratio up to respectability.

Charlie's Double Cheese

That being said, when you know what you’re in for, Charlie’s is a fine place for a hamburger. Spencer ordered his burger dry of condiments and piled high with bacon and loved it. I knew he would, as what kid doesn't like a pre-formed patty on a doughy white bread roll? I topped mine with ketchup, mustard, lettuce, sliced tomato and two fried onion rings swiped from Spencer’s plate during another Clay Buchholz walk. Though not as nap-worthy as the bigger, beefier, more creative efforts from the Boston Burger Company (see Post # 1) and Deluxe Town Diner, my burger was indeed a tasty morsel, especially compared to ten days of flax seed shakes. The price was right, too. Even with Spencer’s huge vanilla frappe the bill was under twenty dollars.

The next time I'm strapped for cash or feel like rubbing elbows with bikers, professors or Helen, I’ll be back to Charlie's for another no-nonsense burger from yesteryear.

Score: 7.25 out of 10 napkins

Post # 2 Deluxe Town Diner, Watertown, MA

Deluxe Town Diner

627 Mount Auburn St.

Watertown, MA 02472

www.deluxetowndiner.com

A neat thing about burgers is how much they vary from place to place. Even when ordering the same type of burger, each restaurant puts its own unique spin on it. The beef and beef-to-fat ratios vary, the seasonings vary, the buns vary, the cooking techniques vary, even the brands of condiments vary. The focus of this week's post, Deluxe Town Diner, uses Hunts ketchup. Call me a condiment snob, but what's wrong with Heinz?

Another great thing about burgers is you can stumble upon a good one just about anywhere, be it dive bar, seafood shack or white tablecloth eatery.

Deluxe isn’t a dive bar or fancy eatery; it's just a good old-fashioned diner that’s been a Watertown institution since 1947. With its two-tone porcelain siding and rounded, glass-block corners, this vintage Worcester Lunch Car Co. building is a slice of Americana for sure. As proof, it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Deluxe Town Diner: A certified classic
Photo Copyright (C) 2000,2001,2002 Free Software Foundation

There are people who love diners and people who fail to see their majesty. No doubt, diners can be loud, cramped and quick-paced. The waitresses are often surly and the patrons overly colorful. And those are just a few reasons to love them. Not to mention the nostalgia invoked when perusing a plastic-matted menu from a corner booth, or seeing a kid half-turn on a wobbly counter stool between sips of a frappe.

But never mind all that. What’s important is Deluxe is said to offer a pretty decent burger, which prompted me to pick it for our second outing. And nostalgia aside, upon reading the prices you're quickly returned to the 21^st century, as the burgers start at around ten bucks.

Scott and I ordered almost the same burger: cheddar, bacon, lettuce and tomato. He asked for raw onions on his; I requested caramelized onions on mine. Deluxe Town Diner caramelizes their onions in granulated sugar and butter, and while they taste great, they make for a slippery, sloppy burger. I can’t hold the diner accountable for my burger being sloppy though; it is a fait accompli with caramelized onions.

When the burgers were served, they looked beautiful on their plates. The cheese was melted perfectly around the patties, the bacon was stacked high and the brioche buns glistened invitingly. A small, white paper cup full of slaw accompanied them, as did a lethal dose of skinny, skin-on fries.

Deluxe Town Diner's  awesome looking burger

Upon first bite we thought we were in heaven. The burgers were juicy and delicious, the bacon smokey and flavorful. But things began to go awry about halfway through, as the burgers started to lose their flavor. Scott theorized that his medium rare burger had kept cooking on the plate. I'm not sure about that, but it did seem as though the juices of each burger began to congeal, making the meat more dense and less flavorful.

Not quite as detrimental, but still an issue, the lettuce and tomato slices were served at room temperature. Many years ago, a fast food chain that will remain nameless promoted a container that "keeps the hot side hot and cool side cool." I never ate a burger from one of those containers, but the concept is sound. Cool ripe tomatoes and crisp chilled lettuce add layers of complexity that these burgers didn't have.

After the juices had congealed and the lettuce and tomato continued to warm under the bun, the burgers lost their initial mouth appeal. And that's when we discovered that the bottom buns seemed to disappear. It wasn't that they disintegrated from excess moisture as much as having been too small to begin with, which is unusual because the top bun was almost too big. So, yeah, the bun to patty ratio was ascew; or more accurately, the bun to bun ratio.

Scott wondering what happened to his awesome burger

This review sounds worse than the burgers actually were. No doubt a lot of care went into making them and they started off great. I know people who rave about Deluxe Town Diner's burgers, and I've had burgers there myself that were delicious. But, just as burgers vary from place to place, they can also vary from day to day from the same place. Next time, I hope to have a burger as delicious as the ones I remember, and I'll remember to bring my own packets of Heinz.

Score: 7.5 out of 10 napkins

Post # 1 Boston Burger Company, Somerville, MA

Boston Burger Company
37 Davis Sq.
Somerville, MA 02144
www.bostonburgerco.com

After searching the web for contenders, I decided on The Boston Burger Company (BBC) for our maiden voyage. The place has been featured on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, and one of its burgers (The Mac Attack) was named Second Best Burger in the Country in a Triple D Best Burger contest. It seemed like a logical place to start.

Boston Burger Company, in the heart of Davis Square.

If the accolades from Triple D weren't enough, BBC's own website shows their seriousness about burgers. A picture of each succulent offering is displayed proudly along with a loving description of its construction, leaving the web viewer with gluttonous fantasies and a serious call to action. Some of the burgers are straight up, while others are quite far out. For example, the 420 burger is topped with American cheese, bacon, BBQ sauce, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, French fries and mac and cheese. I’m determined to expand my comfort zone, but the 420 burger might be too much of a stretch. Just as I don’t appreciate highfalutin caviar burgers (see introduction), I have little patience for burgers that are over-engineered. It’s like dressing a poodle in scarf and booties. A poodle is a dog, not a Barbie Doll. Let him have his dignity.

That’s not to say Scott and I won’t give the 420 a try sometime. Perhaps next April 20^th, when we're apt to follow it with a pint or two of Ben and Jerry’s Everythingbutthe.

Me left, Scott right. Please don't confuse the two.

Boston Burger Company has two locations: in Davis Square in Somerville, and in Boston’s Back Bay. According to Owner/Partner Paul Malvone, each location goes through about 1200 pounds of beef per week. We chose the Davis Square location because it was the first established.

Not to jump ahead of my reportage, but after eating one of the burgers we selected at Boston Burger Company I felt like Scott and I might have found Nirvana too soon, as the eating experience rivaled the food fantasizes I'd conjured while browsing their website.

We sampled two burgers: The King, named in honor of Elvis Presley’s notorious culinary proclivities, (topped with banana, peanut butter and bacon, of course) and The Killer Bee, featuring American cheese, bacon, honey BBQ sauce and a four inch tower of beer battered onion rings. I was skeptical of the Killer Bee, as I do not appreciate burgers that fall apart when eaten, and this monster looked to have serious disintegration potential.

Boston Burger Company's The Killer Bee

As it turned out, I had nothing to fear with The Killer Bee. Ordered “medium rare, but on the way to medium,” the certified Angus 80/20 patty, which was machine-formed on premises, was flat-griddled, giving it a nice bark on the outside while keeping the meat pink and juicy inside. The burger was of good size, probably five or six ounces, and well proportioned to the Piantedosi Bread Shop bun. True, with the stack of onion rings on there, it looked over-engineered, like those architecturally impressive desserts made popular a decade ago, when bakers were interested in creating visual works of art over culinary masterpieces; but after squashing the top bun down against the onion rings the Killer Bee held together nicely throughout the eating experience. I always cut larger burgers in half, and while some consider this sacrilege, I do it as a way to keep them manageable. After cutting The Killer Bee in two, Scott immediately cut his offering in half too, and looked at me expectantly. He had ordered The King, and upon seeing the two burgers side-by-side quickly surmised that fried onion rings and BBQ sauce on a burger beat bananas and peanut butter any day.

As stated in the intro, if a guilt-free, euphoric, coma-like sensation comes over me after eating a burger I know I've had a truly great burger. And this is exactly how I felt after finishing my half of the Killer Bee. I could hardly wait to wash my hands, get chauffeured home, turn the golf channel on low and take a well-deserved snooze on the couch. Admittedly, these sensations are unscientific measuring sticks, but who needs science when chowing burgers? It's all about taste and feel, and this burger tasted delicious and made me feel great. Suffice it to say that eating The Killer Bee was flat out an awesome burger eating experience.

As for The King, if ordered for dessert I’d say it was okay. As a main course, it was hard to take seriously, like those booty wearing poodles are. Ordered medium rare, it came out dry and gray, and afterwards I felt kind of gross, as if I’d consumed a gigantic, meat-infused peanut butter cup. No wonder Elvis shot out all those TV screens late in life. After eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches all day he realized he could have had an awesome burger and became frustrated.

All in all, The Boston Burger Company was a great first outing. We look forward to going back, and not only for Triple D's award-winning Mac Attack burger. Many others on the menu sound intriguing as well. They've got one called the Artery Clogger that I'm sure is to die for.

Scores: The Killer Bee - 9 out of 10 napkins. The King - 2 out of 10 napkins 

Happy Burger Introduction

Welcome to Happy Burger...
one man’s search for the best burgers in Boston. Actually, it’s a two man search, as I’ve recruited my friend Scott to join me, mostly because he has a nice car and doesn’t mind driving. On this blog we might touch upon a restaurant’s ambiance, or critique table service if we feel it necessary, but mostly we’ll focus on how delicious we find each burger, and rate them against each other as we see fit.

There is a lot to consider when evaluating burgers, and I don't have hard and fast rules as to what makes a burger great. But I do know that if my stomach becomes happily bloated, my mind is euphoric while remaining guilt-free, my fingers smell of grease and ketchup, and I want to take a nap, I've eaten a really awesome burger.

Admittedly, finding the “Best Burgers in Boston” is a subjective pursuit, and this is another reason to bring Scott along. Having a contrary point of view might add to the comprehensiveness of the blog. But frankly, I’m not convinced Scott will bring a contrary opinion, as he’s pretty agreeable. For instance, if I say, “Scott, let’s have a beer,” he’ll reply “Great idea!” Which is yet another reason to bring him along.

Scott left, me right. Please don't confuse the two.

Scott and I agree that a bigger burger isn’t always a better burger, and a better grade of meat won't guarantee a better grade from us. We also agree that a burger shouldn’t be made into something it isn’t. The idea of topping a burger with, say, caviar, seems ridiculous to us. We’re talking burgers here, not salmon mousse terrines, so let them be burgers. There is no use trying to make a silk purse from a cow’s ear. Putting caviar on a burger is like putting tricked out wheel rims on a Ford Pinto. It’s just plain silly.

Scott and I also agree that some of the best burgers might be found in dive bars or ubiquitous burger chains or take-out stands rather than more upscale establishments. The Menemsha Galley, on Martha’s Vineyard, comes to mind as a take-out joint that serves a great burger. The Galley isn’t in the Boston area, but it deserves a shout out for serving consistently memorable burgers summer after summer. Considering that The Galley is located on Martha’s Vineyard, I assume the meat is from spoon-fed cows or something; but whatever...eating a Galley burger is an awesome burger-eating experience.

Just as there are many opinions as to what makes a burger great, there are as many ways to top a burger. I am a traditionalist when it comes to accouterments. When serving burgers for the family, I top mine with cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard and pickles. My wife is partial to turkey burgers with thin-sliced raw red onion. My daughter likes plain hamburgers with a dollop of ketchup on the side for dipping, and my son likes lettuce, tomato and bacon but eschews all other condiments. For this blog, I hope to branch out of my personal comfort zone, as a good burger joint can make a guy do that.

So, without further ado, let's go eat some burgers.