Day 3: Now that’s a spicy meatburger!

I start my day off as a productive member of society, revisiting my Burger Week spreadsheet. With the Day 1 & 2 line mishaps, I need to re-envision my strategy for the rest of the week. Right as I’m cross-referencing Google Maps and drooling over my burger list, I get a dreaded “ping.”

When I’m 87 in my nursing home, I’ll tell all the robots tending to me about how that stupid little “whhhrping” notification sound gives me PTSD from the time I worked remotely in a pandemic, chained to my desk, my life a never-ending spiral of whhhrping-whhrping-whhhrping, and they’ll say “that’s nice Grandma Kelsey, now it’s time for your burger pills.”

This whrrrping informs me I’ve been added to a last-minute meeting that’s (heavy sigh) during lunch. THE AUDACITY! It’s almost as if these people who pay me money to do my job have no regard for my ART* (*pointless internet blog that only a handful of people read)! With my lunch plans foiled, I can only dream of dinner burgers.

Piccone’s Corner

I’m constantly hounded by the media asking “Kelsey, why do you do it? Why suffer through 3-4 burgers a day? This can’t be good for your health. Have you considered speaking with a medical professional? How are you still alive? We’re worried about you, this is an intervention…” And aside from a proclivity for terrible life choices, my answer is always this: I do it for the fans.

Being the humble philanthropist that I am, I let friends Jess Bedussi and Mike Gallagher from my San Francisco fanbase pick a burger for me.

Since Jess will be in Italy during Burger Week, and Mike and I love to make problematic you-should-probably-speak-to-HR-about-this references to Jess’s Italian heritage with “Its-a Me, Mario!” style accents, the proposed fan pick is the Italian Job from Piccone’s Corner.

Piccone’s Corner is primarily a butcher shop, but they also have a full menu. Every table is occupied, so I decide to get it to-go and eat my burger in front of a church – my own version of holy meatrimony.

The Italian Job burger is actually just a giant meatball with mozzarella, red sauce, Calabrian chili, and fresh basil. And when I say “giant”, I mean this thing weighs more than a small baby. The meat alone seems approximately 2 inches thick. It’s the chonkiest of heftybois. Mamma Mia, I’ve made a huge mistake. I forgot to grab napkins, so I have to use an old towel stowed in the trunk of my car. If anyone saw me, they might be concerned for my well-being: my towel is covered in marinara, I have blood-red sauce all over my face, and I’m sitting alone in front of an empty church with a massive meatball burger. For my own safety, I cannot proceed with eating. I call it quits halfway through, saving the rest for later. I wish I had more stomach space because it’s very tasty and a conceptually creative entry. I rate it an 8.5/10.

Laurelwood Public House & Brewery

*Nate’s impressive Burger Week rating template design*

I check Instagram and I’m delighted to see one of my favorite Burger Week Influencers slid into my DMs. Nate Lattanzzi aka @Mango_Nate really outdid himself this year, casually whipping up a rating template for his Instagram posts. As a result, I deem him worthy of sharing a burger with me, and we decide to meet up at Laurelwood Public House & Brewery for the Posole burger.

We start off with some light burger banter, but there’s something that’s been eating away at my insides, and it’s not the onslaught of meat patties. My fellow co-burger-er Nick Nanpei and I use a formulaic scale of 1-10 for our burger ratings. Shockingly, Nate uses a 1-5 scale. I need some clarity on his thought process.

After grilling (pun-intended) Nate about his rating system, he explains that he treats Burger Week like a film festival. He claims it’s easier for him to wrap his head around a 5-star system. I silently sip my lemonade and let my eyes glaze over. Whatever you say, Nate…

The Posole burger has a beef patty, guajillo-bacon jam, queso fresco, hominy slaw, and garlic mayo. For the first time, Nate and I are stumped on a flavor description. It has a distinguishable smoky flavor, but otherwise, we have no words to express what this burger tastes like. The closest I can manage is it’s reminiscent of the way a grandma’s basement smells – like a hint of old cedarwood and blandness, but in a good way? “It must be the hominy,” we declare since neither of us has any clue what hominy is. I give a 7.5/10.

*Laurelwood Public House & Brewery - Posole Burger*

As we walk out, a familiar face emerges from the shadows. None other than Nick Nanpei waits for a table at Laurelwood, his eyes ablaze. Nick confides in us the horrors of his night: multiple restaurants, and no burgers. I’ve never seen him in such disarray. “We have to wait another 45 minutes for a table. I’m SO hangry,” he grumbles.

“Psst…Nick…” I whisper mysteriously. “I have half of the Italian job if you want it…Just say the word.”

Like a junkie, his ears prick up. He follows me to the parking lot. We take a look around to see if we have any witnesses. The coast is clear. We proceed with our mafia-style burger drug deal. I pass along the goods, and Nick scarfs it down before anyone catches us. We give a knowing nod and part ways.

Maybe it’s the mozzarella speaking, but I’ll summarize Day 3 with this botched Al Capone quote to make myself crystal clear: “be careful who ya call ya friends… I’d ratha have four quarter (pounders) than a hundred pennies, capisce?”