A mundane burger often reminds me of those years when I lived in America, when I often had to subsist on mass-produced burgers that I'd imagine tasted like dirty socks soaked in sewage-diluted ketchup. A great burger, however, reminds me of the good times I've had, mainly in two places: Texas, and California. Texas' burgers are memorable because the beef is always fresh and flavorful, and often charcoal-grilled with cracking mesquite wood that gives an additional layer of sweetness. Californian burgers are great because they dare to be inventive: new ingredients (e.g. organic greens), new sauces (e.g. sweet aioli, jalapeño-flavored salsa), and new ways of ordering (e.g. secret menu, at In-N-Out).
The Mission
Burger is not something that pops into my mind when I talk about my foodie experience in Beijing. While many Beijing hotels have coffee shops that can offer a decent burger, albeit at exorbitant prices, I have yet to find, until now, a burger joint that I could confidently recommend to others. Hooters, Durty Nellie's and Paddy O'Shea's serve up good burgers as pub grubs, but I recommend those places with reasons that are far more important than, say, to get a half-decent burger. Therefore, I decided to undertake a mission to find the best burger, as I know it, in a town better known for roast ducks wrapped with steamed pancakes than beef patty on a bun -- with one additional requirement: that any restaurant's burger must be the #1 reason why I, or anyone to whom I pass on my recommendation, would want to go to that restaurant. Therefore, places like Durty Nellie's and Outback Steakhouse won't count. With some input from some well-fed Beijingers, I tried out twelve burger joints in a little under five weeks, and came up with four good recommendations, below.
The Taste Test
Tim's Texas BBQ (Guanghua Road)
Tim's offers an all-American Border burger laden with bacon, cheese, jalapeños. The beef patty was supremely grilled with a dense, robust flavor. The bacon had a nice, smoky nose and a chewy texture. The winning ingredient was the pungent jalapeños, which nicely cut into the excess fat of the beef and the bacon and provided that extra zing. Tim's also serves up a superb chopped beef brisket sandwich, which by itself is worthy of a separate visit (or, if self-indulgence shall be forgiven, of a same-visit, side-by-side burger-sandwich face/off).
Exploit: one Border burger, one frozen margarita: ￥80.
One East on Third (Hilton Hotel Beijing)
With foie gras, black truffles and Waygu beef, the Waygu burger oozed more pomp and circumstance than cheeses and mushroom juices. It was tough for me not to feel a little pugnacious after shelling out ￥325 just so that I got to feel like an aristocratic jackass for half an hour. Nevertheless, I have to admit that, strictly in terms of taste, the burger was actually more than just a garbled pile of dollar signs; I would freely admit that it was not too far away from the majestic double truffle burger royale that I had at Daniel Boulud's joint in New York two years ago.
Exploit: one Waygu burger, one glass of Californian red wine, one expresso: ￥420.
Let's Burger (The Village at Sanlitun)
This is a straight-up, burger-only joint that serves up some juicy patties in a bistro environment. My order: an Australian double burger with six ounces (by my estimate) of ground sirloin. The Australian was amply dressed with lettuce, tomatoes, two fat slices of bacon, and a fried egg. I felt like my life was ticking away as the burger was being devoured. The only thing that kept me from putting the burger down and calling it quits was the devil in me, reminding me that if my blood vessels were to clot and if I were to drop dead on the spot, I would still die a very, very happy man. On my first visit, the patties were a little disappointing because they were overcooked, bland, and devoid of beefy flavors, but on my second visit (revisiting the exact same order), the patties came to life with all the beefy aromatics and succulent juices. The fries were hand-cut and well-fried, with a crunchy shell and a soft, starchy body. A winning feature at this joint was the impressive array of dipping sauces (over ten of them!), including two that I would recommend in a heartbeat (if I still have one): a creamy remoulade and a flavorful wasabi mayonnaise.
Twice exploited: The Australian, one order of hand-cut fries, one glass of house red: ￥150 per exploit.
25 Degrees (Hotel G)
Named after the temperature (in Celsius) between a raw and a well-done burger, 25 Degrees provides the diner an art-meets-science flavor to the burger experience. One can design and build one's own burger with dozens of a la carte toppings to choose from, or pick from three excellent preset choices. My choice on my first visit (preset #1) was a ground-sirloin burger dressed with carmelized onions, arugula salad, thousand island dressing and a wedge of Gorgonzola cheese --this combination reminds me of Father's Office burger in Santa Monica, California, which has a nearly verbatim rendition, except the bun: Father's Office uses a fluffy and long French baguette, while 25 Degrees uses a round, wheat/rye bun. This resemblance of taste, however, is not entirely accidental, as 25 Degrees is an aspiring burger concept originated in Los Angeles, a stone's throw away from Father's Office. In any case, 25 Degrees' burger was a protein-carb-veg juggernaut with a good balance of flavor (juicily beefy but not oily), taste (the Gorgonzola danced merrily with the caramelized onion), and texture (the crispiness of the arugula salad jazzed perfectly with the softness of the onions and the chewiness of the beef). Like the original joint in Hollywood, the lettuces, tomatoes and sliced pickles were served on the side and readily available for the truly ambitious table-side burger engineers. The French fries were generously sprinkled with sea salt and thyme, and arrived at the table crispy and piping hot.
I got to build my own burger on my second visit: one identical to preset #1 except that I chose Gruyère over Gorgonzola. The result was equally impressive, and the taste was not materially discernible from the original in Hollywood. I mean, why mess with the battle-tested recipe when the original is already working brilliantly well? I also got to check out the wine list, which in my opinion was slightly excessive (in price) for a burger joint but nevertheless impressive given its geographical and varietal depth.
Twice exploited: one preset #1: ￥175; one build-my-own burger, one half-bottle of red wine (shared with two other friends): ￥180.
Conclusion
25 Degrees. Taste notwithstanding, 25 Degrees wins the ambiance test too. It has a hip but unassuming decor, and superior music. By contrast, the bistro-style dining and Henry Mancini-esque music at Let's Burger are just a tad too formal. With a knowledgeable staff and attentive service, 25 Degrees also has the best service among the final four.
With pac's Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z. album playing in the background, my mind drifted, momentarily, back to the yesteryear when, after a burger at the original 25 Degrees, I would drive on Hollywood Blvd., with my windows rolled down, Cali. rap music blaring from the Cadillac in front and multiple Louboutin clogs clicking away on the sidewalk. That reconnection to the past, attentive but unobtrusive service, and plain ol' good food are the reasons why 25 Degrees has my vote for the best burger in Beijing.
