In Search Of A Decent Burger

Pardon my cynicism, but the world is full of snobbery.  The image-conscious show off with the cars they drive, the shoes they wear, the houses they build.  The more it costs and the trendier it sounds, the more they want it. 

Unfortunately, this applies to food too.  At Michael Jordan’s Steakhouse at Mohegan Sun, not even the humble hamburger is safe.  On the bar menu there, if you feel like wasting more of your money than you’ve already thrown away at the slots, you can pay $24 for the privilege of eating the Wagyu Burger.  This burger doesn’t come with fries, but it does come with all the cachet of such ingredients as Wagyu beef, aged truckle cheddar, Boston Bibb lettuce, soy aioli, pancetta chips, and a pretzel bun.  Please forgive the marketing gurus who failed to think of any alluring adjectives to attach to its two remaining ingredients—plain-old sliced tomato and onions.  If they correct this oversight, they could charge yet another five or ten dollars, I’m sure of it.

Against my better judgment, I ate a Wagyu Burger.  And I compared it to the more proletarian burgers served at places like and in Mystic and the hip but affordable Bobby’s Burger Palace in Mohegan Sun.  Every one of them beat it by a mile.  The burger I ate next door at Michael Jordan’s more casual 23.sportscafe beat it as well, though this burger too was no match for the other competitors, especially considering price.  After scoring all the burgers on a scale of one to ten, here’s how they rank in terms of pleasure per dollar:

1.     Miami Burger at Bobby’s Burger Palace:  10 points/$7.50 = 1.33 units of pleasure per dollar (PPD)

2.     Bobby Blue Burger at Bobby’s Burger Palace:  9 points/$7.50 = 1.20 PPD

3.     Cheeseburger “all the way” at Five Guys:  6 points/$5.29 = 1.13 PPD

4.     Cheeseburger “with everything” plus jalapenos at Jake’s:  5 points/$4.99 = 1.00 PPD

5.     Brooklyn’s Best burger at Michael Jordan’s 23.sportscafe:  7 points/$14 = .50 PPD

6.     Wagyu Burger at Michael Jordan’s Steakhouse:  3 points/$24 = .13 PPD

The problem with the Wagyu burger is that it’s all talk.  It’s made with ultra-marbled beef from Wagyu cattle, akin to Kobe beef.  It tastes buttery and creamy and surely would make for an impressive steak, but it’s superiority to ordinary beef is lost in burger form.  In fact, most people would probably think nothing special about it if the menu didn’t announce what it is. 

Similarly, the truckle cheddar adds nothing that a slice of your favorite Kraft or Cracker Barrel couldn’t add.  The soy aioli and the pretzel bun are great, but they amp up the buttery flavor so much that they overwhelm the beef.  Meanwhile, the so-called “pancetta chips” are really just one round, chewy slice.  Ordinary bacon would taste so much better.  And who cares about Boston Bibb lettuce? 

Pretentious ingredients with fancy names do not make a better burger.  They just make me angry, especially when it all costs $30 after tax and tip.  At the very least, Michael Jordan’s ought to serve fries with this burger.  Instead, mine came with one lousy fried dill pickle, speared phallic-like into the top bun.  Does “Wagyu” translate to “rip off” in Japanese?

Next door at the 23.sportscafe, the Brooklyn’s Best burger is a better bet.  It’s part burger, part Reuben, and, therefore, part of two of the world’s greatest sandwiches.  Juicy ground sirloin, cooked perfectly to order, is topped with tender pastrami, tangy sauerkraut, melty Swiss, and tangy Russian dressing.  The poppy seeds on the bulky bun detract from the flavor, but all in all, this is a meaty, cheesy contender worthy of most pub burgers.  At $14, though, it pushes the limits of what I’m willing to pay.

At Five Guys in Mystic, across the street from the aquarium, the burgers are nearly as delicious and a whole lot cheaper.  Plus, customers can pig out on peanuts while they wait for their numbers to be called.  I got my cheeseburger “all the way” ($5.29) with pickles, lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and grilled onions and mushrooms.  The onions are sweet and translucent, and the mushrooms are a little rubbery and squeaky on your molars.  This is a ten-napkin cheeseburger, a delightful mess that tastes strongly and addictively of the fry grill.  It’s a step up from fast-food but delivers the same forbidden pleasure. 

Jake’s Wayback Burgers, like the ones at Five Guys, are meant to be inhaled rather than eaten.  The Jake Cheeseburger is cheaper by a few dimes ($4.99) and might be a tad bigger.  Like Five Guys, it contains two patties, pressed thin with yellow cheese in the middle, but it’s a little neater—only five or six napkins required.  I ordered mine “with everything,” except for the raw onions, and added jalapenos for kick.  They were plump and gorgeously green.  Jake’s bun looks a shade darker, maybe wheatier, and they use a more sophisticated-looking lettuce than Five Guys do, but this offers no advantage in flavor.  If anything, Jake’s burgers taste a little less fried and a bit plainer but still greasy enough to induce guilt.   

At the diner counter at Bobby’s Burger Palace, part of celebrity chef Bobby Flay’s food empire, you’ll find the best of both worlds—the laid-back, cafeteria style and greasy goodness of the Mystic burger joints combined with the imaginative toppings and gourmet combinations of Michael Jordan’s.  Unlike Five Guys and Jake’s, however, there’s no confusing these burgers with fast food.  And unlike MJ’s, they deliver the mind-blowing pleasure they promise without fancy names, and for a fraction of the price.

Take Bobby’s Blue Burger, for example, which is unforgettable with crispy bacon—not “pancetta chips”—and clumpy, creamy blue cheese.  This is one of the best renditions I’ve ever tasted of this classic combination.  The entire beefy mix oozes juice as the bun forms itself to the contours of your hand. 

In fact, the way the burgers fit in your hand is what I loved most about this place.  My Miami burger—half-burger, half-Cuban—felt as if it were custom-built for my fingers.  The soft sesame-seeded bun cradled a mass of gloriously red meat pressed together with salty shaved ham, lots of aromatic and stringy Swiss, and crunchy, puckery pickles with mustard and mayo.  It was plenty messy, and occasionally I set it down to tug at the ham or to tuck in a pickle or to dab at drops of greasy juice with the edge of the bun where I planned to take my next bite. 

Order your burgers cooked a half-step more than you like them.  Mine were supposed to be medium-rare but arrived bloody rare instead, for which I salute Bobby’s Burger Palace; so many restaurants these days are afraid of a little blood.  Best of all, these burgers cost merely $7.50 apiece—not even a third of the price of the Wagyu Burger but easily triple the pleasure.