Today is the last day of Burger Week and my sentiments can only be described as bittersweet. Unlike the previous Burger Weeks, this is the first time that I don’t feel like I’m dying. Perhaps I’ve become a seasoned pro, or maybe it’s my new Burger Week morning ritual of starting the day with a probiotic gut shot and ginger tea. Whatever it may be, I feel a tinge of sadness that it’s ending. Or maybe that’s just heartburn.
I'm forced to skip my lunch burger due to that inconvenience called "work". Ughhhhhhhhhh. I order something with kale for lunch and feel like an imposter. My body is confused – why are we introducing vegetables into the system? This is a red-meat-and-carbs-only zone. My insides will likely stage a rebellion until meat returns.
I wake up earlier than usual, hesitant and uneasy. I’m officially halfway finished with Burger Week, but it still feels like an uphill battle. I have a hard time getting my mental game in gear because today is the day I get the Delicious Donuts burger. I’ve been putting this off out of pure fear, but it’s time to buck up and burger on.
After a rocky start on Day One, it was difficult to muster up enough energy to get out of bed. It may have been the culmination of eating too many burgers in a short time span, but...
Day 3: I wake in a fit of meat sweats. Only two days of Burger Week passed, and I already felt defeated. Instead of continuing on my journey, I must board a plane for New York. It hurts to leave so many great burgers behind, uneaten and unknown.
Our flight is delayed. I look to see if there are any burgers nearby the Portland airport. Just when I spot a potential option, the burger gods spite me, and we’re told to stay at the gate. Another one bites the dust…
We arrive late, and only have time to grab a quick bite at the hotel bar. To my dismay, it’s an Italian restaurant. A full day without burgers. What a tragedy.
Day 4: Since we’re with a larger group, most of the restaurants are pre-planned, leaving me helpless in my burger quest. We go to a place called The Farm on the Adderley. Following suit with my preparations, I must try a burger if it’s available on the menu. I spy a burger, but I’m not liking what I see… It starts at $15 for just a patty and a bun, and to add anything else (cheese, tomato, etc) it’s an extra $2 per item. This formula is a disgrace to burgers everywhere – I should not be forced to construct my own. It’s like going to a clothing store, but they only give you fabric and a sewing needle and tell you good luck. I’m already unimpressed. What’s even worse is that it comes on an ENGLISH MUFFIN. I have a real beef with this (...see what I did there?).
My burger arrives. As anticipated, it disappoints. There’s no flavor, no sauce, and seriously, ENGLISH MUFFIN?! I’m not even sure if this should be categorized as a burger. They’re lucky that the meat is seasoned well, otherwise this would be a truly scathing review. I’ll say it one more time: ENGLISH MUFFIN. WHY. I rate it a 4.25. To be fair, all of the other food options looked delicious, and it’s probably my fault for selecting a burger at an artisan restaurant.
Farm on the Adderley burger.
Day 5: Another day without a burger. Although I was totally disappointed in the NYC burger quest, I did gather a list of restaurants from seasoned burger pros to try next time when the meals are within my control. On the plus side, I also enjoyed some excellent pastrami from Katz’s Deli and a delectable taste of Lombardi’s pizza. But alas, I feel weak without burgers in my bloodstream. GET ME HOME TO MY $5 BURGERS!
6:00 AM: I arrive at my terminal, and go to a weird restaurant that only lets me order on an iPad. I can’t find any burgers. Since the menu is divided into categories, I ask the waitress if I missed it – maybe I just can’t figure out this futuristic robot way of eating food. She looks at me like I’m crazy because I want a burger at 6 AM and kindly explains that it’s only available on the lunch iPad menu and asks if I want a breakfast sandwich instead. That’s cute. NAH GIRL, BURGERS ONLY!
6:04 AM: I begin plans to formally petition for burgers to be on every breakfast menu in the United States.
10:45 AM: We begin our descent into Portland. Maybe I’m hallucinating, but I’m pretty sure I can smell the burgers through the air vents.
11:30 AM: I’m finally on the ground, weaving in and out of people milling about the terminal. They probably think I’m late for a flight. Silly tourists! I’m late for something even more important: BURGER WEEK.
11:38 AM: I’m in my car, trying to decide where I should go. There’s a lot of pressure on me – this is my last chance to experience Burger Week. Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity, to seize every burger you ever wanted, in one moment – would you capture it? Or just let it slip?
11:39 AM: My palms are sweaty. Knees weak. Arms are heavy. There's burgers on my mind already, want some meaties. #Remix
11:41 AM: At first, I was going to go to Slowburger because they had the Hawaiian 503, and I felt like that was fitting for me since I am part Hawaiian and from the 503. However, due to some “meh” reviews, I decide to look into other options. I heard raving reviews about the Thunder Roadhouse Burger, but upon further investigation, I’m not sure if I can handle the jalapenos.
11:42 AM: After looking through the list, something about fried avocado speaks to me. I throw my suitcase in my car and head straight to Migration Brewing for the Mole Madre burger.
11:46 AM: I made a critical mistake and used Apple Maps for my directions. It takes me to an office building. I do a couple of circles around the block, blaming it on faulty GPS. It still says that I’ve arrived at the location. I wander around the building, unsure if I should enter because it doesn’t look like it has a kitchen. Just as I’m about to kick down the door and scream “WHERE ARE THE BURGERS?!” I glance at the numbers on the door, and realize I’m at the wrong address. That could have been mortifying.
12:00 PM: I finally arrive at the REAL migration brewing and order my burger.
12:13 PM: In true burger BFF fashion, Nick surprises me for moral support, so I don’t have to eat a burger alone!
12:15 PM: The burger arrives. It’s a beautiful creation made up of a beef patty covered in mole ketchup, cotija, pickled onions, tomatillo dressing, and fried avocado. Yes, FRIED. AVOCADO. "Incredible" is an adjective that doesn’t seem to do it justice. The fried avocado is a great touch, but the mole sauce is the true winner here. It has so much flavor and everything works well together. The bun is fluffy and light, but still provides enough bread to keep the burger intact. It receives a high 9.5 rating, my highest rating yet. The Mole Madre brings me back to life after only 3 hours of sleep. This is an amazing burger, and it absolutely stole my heart.
Migration Brewing Mole Madre burger
12:30 PM: I should go home, take a nap, and get ready for a friend’s wedding. But my Burger Week competitiveness strikes again… And I can’t stop now, knowing that I didn’t give it my all. NO RAGRETZ.
12:45 PM: We arrive at White Owl. There’s a slight line, and we make conversation with the group in front of us. Nick casually drops the fact that he’s had 20 burgers so far this week. This blows their mind.
12:52 PM: Our burgers arrive. Nick takes his into the photo booth to go take some pics with it. This is what makes him a legendary burger weeker.
12:53 PM: The White Owl burger is a take on the McDonald’s Big Mac. It’s called the McSqueeze Me, and it’s made up of Walla Walla onions, pickles, lettuce, special sauce, and cheese. It’s a very simple burger, but I have to be honest – I’m a bigger fan of the McDonald’s version. I feel like it's a bold statement to compare yourself to the almighty Big Mac, and it doesn't deliver. Nothing stands out about this burger to me. It’s okay, but it’s not too exciting. I rate it a 7.
It’s time for me to bid farewell to my beloved Burger Week 2016. Although I was only able to experience 3 days of it, I think I made the most of my short time and even made some lifetime memories. I’m not crying, it’s just… I’m… chopping onions?
While the Kell’s burger started out as an 8.75, it was my first burger, and as such it did not have a fair rating in comparison to the other burgers. After a full week of reflection, it beats out the Next Level burger. Also, I can’t live with myself if I let a vegan burger make the top 3.
Total burgers eaten: 11
Total money spent: $61.70
Number of times venue sold out of burgers: 0 – A BURGER WEEK RECORD!
Total number of burger photos: 27
Total pounds lost/gained: 2 pounds lost. Again, I proved that the burger diet is a real thing!
Total amount of times throwing up: 0 – ANOTHER BURGER WEEK RECORD! (But very close after the Delicious Donuts burger…).
Completing Burger Odyssey, Year 2: PRICELESS.
Until next year...
BURGERPOCALYPSE NOW
I love the smell of burgers in the morning
I made plans with Kelsey and Marc to meet up at 7:45AM for Delicious Donuts’ Grand Ave. Breakfast Burger. Grand is an understatement for this monstrosity: a third-pound beef burger, a hash brown patty, bacon, cheese, and a scrambled egg sandwiched between two glazed beauties. Yes, it’s a motherfucking donut burger.
My name is called and I pick it up from the counter. Holy shit this thing is heavy. It’s oozing with what looks like syrup, but it’s just the sugar glaze liquefying. I dive in with two hands and take that first bite. OMG it’s delicious. It’s the rare burger that is put together with enough balance to taste each of the 5 elements on almost every bite. The sweetness is balanced by 3 levels of salty goodness and I love it. Eating this feels very almost sinful in its excessive decadence.
The horror... the horror...
5 minutes afterward and I’m reeling from the experience. Oh it was great, but it was just too much for one person. This would be probably be a perfect treat as a slider on some mini donuts. I slowly sink into one of the worst food comas of my life and by noon I’m in such bad shape that I contemplate dropping out of Burger Week altogether. Last year it took me until Saturday to hit the wall, and part of that was due to a massive hangover. After following up the back to back to back burgers on day 1 with this breakfast from hell, I’m wondering if I pushed too hard too early.
By 2:30pm my stomach has finally settled enough to feel the faintest tinge of hunger. I don’t know if I can do and more beef right now so I decide to hit BTU for the General Tso’s burger, which is chicken inside a big steamed bun. I arrive and seat myself at the bar with a nice view of Olympic water polo on the TV. Inexplicably they’re out of every healthy sounding vegetable side dish, or at least that’s what I think they said but I’m still not a coherent person at this point. I order a side of vegetable wontons, of which I have almost no recollection of eating. I think I’m meat drunk. I don’t know if I’d necessarily call The General Tso a burger, but a giant chicken bao seems like exactly what I need to shake myself out of this funk.
It comes out dripping with sauce, yet looks like a light snack in comparison to my gut wrenching breakfast. I go into full autopilot and house the thing in maybe 5 bites. The bao is a soft and lovely and most importantly, not a donut. The chicken is moist and there is other stuff on it that I don’t remember. When I finish I don’t feel like shit, so it’s a success. In trying to write this review, I honestly remember very little about this burger due to my state of mind but I gave it a high grade on the Snap story so it must have been good.
Disneyland? Fuck, man, this is better than Disneyland!
Kelsey had finagled her way into getting the Portland Mercury's Patty Wagon to meet up with her at Noraneko. I was close by so I ran to meet them. The Patty Wagon is a Mini Cooper wrapped as a burger which is cool enough on it's own, but they also had a trunk full of swag including temporary tattoos, buttons and beer koozies. We took photos with the car and Kelsey danced in a burger suit making it the best day ever.
I expected someone like you. What did you expect? Are you an assassin?
A couple hours and one chewy stomach relief tablet later and I’m ready for dinner. I coordinate to meet Burger Week vets Marc, Chelsea and Omari at Slow Burger, also known as Slow Bar’s bastard child. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy their burgers and had high grades for 2015’s Burger’s Pimento Cheese Burger, but it’s just not up to par with the magnificence of Slow Bar. Nonetheless I have high expectations and am intrigued by this year’s Hawaii 503 though, which has a pineapple slaw, jalapenos and teriyaki. If you’ve ever gotten into a drunken conversation with about pizza, you already know pineapple and jalapeno is my favorite combination.
There’s a steady but quick line when Marc and I arrive, he grabs a burger for Chelsea who is en route. As we’re waiting, an old man strikes up conversation with us. He’s recovering from cancer and leukemia which caused him to lose a massive amount of weight, so a burger and fries are on the menu for him tonight. They’re churning em out fast and all of our burgers arrive about the same time. I take a few bites and am definitely underwhelmed. There’s just not enough pineapples and I barely notice the jalapeno. Our new friend, who apparently used to be a chef, notes that it’s severely lacking in teriyaki and I concur. Marc likes it though so we’ll chalk this up to hurried and uneven distribution of toppings, which is forever the scourge of Burger Week. Omari arrives a little late and gets in line. After about 5 minutes they announce they’ve sold out for the day. My bad dude, I should’ve ordered for you. He ventures off into the neighborhood to track down one of the offerings from Migration or Club 21. Overall I’m underwhelmed by Slow Burger this year, but it’s hard to knock a place that consistently delivers quality on a daily basis.
What the hell do you know about burgers, Major?
I’m now almost fully recovered from the donut burger, but I don’t know if I can handle another one. Kelsey had mentioned she is headed to Next Level Burger for The Pomme Fromage, which is an entirely plant based burger. This almost seems sacrilegious, but I am so down with consuming vegetables right now.
It’s fairly busy at Next Level, and Kelsey has already ordered while waiting for her crew to arrive. When I order, the cashier looks at me funny and checks with the kitchen. They only have 3 burgers left! Marc and Chelsea are at the back of the line, so I order all 3 of them. Luckily for everyone else, they’ll have another batch ready to cook in about 15 minutes. One of the perils of Burger Week is sell outs, so far I’ve had great luck.
I’m sipping on a kombucha (because I need more probiotics in my life) when The Pomme Fromage arrives. It looks really nice, and the Swiss vegan cheese is melty and gooey. Wait, what? This tastes good, like really good. The patty is made of quinoa, chia seeds, garbanzo beans, onion, and carrot and I would happily eat it any day of the week. The sweet mustard aioli enhances everything and the arugula gives it a nice kick. My only complaint is that the bun is a little too whole grain-y, but that’s a pretty minor flaw.
One of the biggest critiques of Burger Week has always been the lack of vegan and vegetarian options. This year there are 3 locations, with Hoda’s and Bar Bar offering up a veggie patty. I am a happy consumer of all varieties of ground animal patties, but it would be nice to share the experience with some of my misguided herbivore friends. Major props to Next Level for not only doing this, but doing it so well. This is one of my highest rated burgers so far and I’m not bloated and dehydrated afterwards.
The war will still be here tomorrow
I’ve gone down the river into the heart of darkness and I made it out alive, barely. After 2 days I’m at 8 burgers, halfway to last years total of 16. I’m crushing Burger Week and there are 4 full days left.
We kicked off this blog last year for Portland Burger Week and chronicled the Burger Odyssey. It started off innocently enough, before turning into a full blown obsession for Kelsey and I. We blogged, we tweeted, we snapped and dined with dozens of friends and burger lovers. By midweek, we were a mess, “My body, mind and soul are completely shot. The Burger Odyssey is feeling like a long weekend in Vegas -- 4 days is the limit of safety and sanity.”
After 7 days I had consumed 15 different burgers, plus an additional one which was not sanctioned by Burger Week. By Sunday night, I found myself parked outside of Double Barrel Tavern debating whether to get in one last fix. Yes, I had become a full blown burger addict. It wasn’t a pretty recovery. When I finally stepped foot in a grocery store, I wandered around for 40 minutes in a daze. “Anything but beef” was all I could think about before eventually walking out with all the fixings for a BLT, which seemed like a good way to wean myself from the addiction.
One would think I was sick of burgers, but no, I was merely sick of writing about burgers. For the next 51 weeks I probably ate more burgers than I ever had before. Burger Week is serious business and you have to train all year round. I had big plans for this year: 20 burgers. I was a thrown off a bit when it was announced that Burger Week 2016 was only 6 days long, I was determined to plow forward at a 4 burger a day pace. Here is how Day 1 went down.
MONDAY:
I work in the Central Eastside industrial area so Noraneko is a no brainer to knock out first. In addition to great ramen, I’ve always been quite fond of the Biwa double burger they offer.
10:17AM - I announce to the office my intention to get the Miso Butter Burger at 11AM, right when they open. They are skeptical of my timing, but I purposely skipped breakfast and my stomach is rumbling.
11:00AM - No one is ready. Noobs, smh.
11:20AM - We’re ready! Nope, false alarm.
11:35AM - Finally we’re off. I’m with 3 rookies but they’ve got spirit and a craving for beef.
11:43AM - There is a short line, this is a good sign.
11:50AM - I order the burger and a small salad. It’s proper form to order a side or beverage with your burger, plus I think I’m gonna need all the veggies I can get this week.
12:02PM - It’s here and it looks nothing like it did in the Portland Mercury’s review, but looks can be deceiving. Picture time.
12:04PM - Wow, this a really unique taste. The frozen miso butter is mixed in with the beef and it gives it a salty, almost porky flavor. The slaw and the pickles offer a nice balance to the saltiness.
12:12PM - It’s on the smaller side, which you will need sometimes during the Burger Week marathon. The first couple burgers are always hard to rate because you never know how it will stack up, but I tentatively give it an 8.25. A very good start.
12:35PM - I’m back at the office, chugging water but very satisfied.
All afternoon I send out a flurry of texts and Snapchat messages attempting to coordinate burger plans for the night. @kelsey_wilkins and I decide on Church Bar because it was among the favorites from 2015 and we anticipate a large crowd. Of course we can’t eat just 1, so we also pick Club 21 right down the street. I leave these reviews to Kelsey because she describes them much more eloquently than I can. Tonight also happens to be my sister’s birthday, which means family dinner. Of course I suggest a bunch of Burger Week participants and we decide on Davis St. Tavern.
8:13PM - I’m the first one here and I need water, lots of water. Stay hydrated folks.
8:25PM - Davis St. Tavern is offering The New American Burger which is a ”charbroiled Painted Hills bison/beef patty topped with crisp butter lettuce, plump summer tomatoes, pickled zucchini and cucumber, and whole-grain mustard aioli on a Portland French brioche bun”. That’s a lot of words for what’s basically a bison burger. Whatever, I have to order it.
8:50PM - Appetizers were ordered and our server drops a charcuterie board directly in front of me. I absolutely DO NOT need this. But… I can’t say no to chicken liver mousse.
9:10PM - Dinner is here. The New American Burger is served simply in a checkered cardboard tray and looks rather underwhelming compared to my mom’s Angus Beef Burger, which comes piled with Tillamook vintage cheddar, pepper bacon and bacon-tomato jam.
9:11PM - First bite, not bad. The burger is a perfectly cooked medium rare and the bun is toasted just right. The vegetables are crisp and fresh and really compliment the flavors of the bison/beef patty. The mustard aioli is smooth and adds a nice tanginess to each bite.
9:20PM - There’s a familiarity to this burger. Between the toasted bun and the aioli it actually tastes like a restaurant quality version of a Burgerville burger. Davis St. went with a relatively simple concept and nailed it. It’s hard to rate but I want to give it a 9 at this point.
9:50PM - There is dessert. Why am I eating this?
10:29PM - Day 1 is complete. My belly is full, my mouth tastes like salt and I’m exhausted. I brush my teeth and roll into bed before 11 o’clock. I’ve got a big morning coming up: tomorrow we've tackle Delicious Donuts’ monstrosity known as the Grand Avenue Breakfast Burger.
3:41 PM: When I was a kid, I was very intrigued by the idea of riding in the Oscar Meyer Wiener Mobile. However, hot dogs don't even come close to the miraculous wonder of a cheeseburger. To ride in a cheeseburger car is a dream come true, to say the least. I feel like every second of my life, everything I've ever worked for, every burger I've ever consumed, has lead up to this moment.
8:31 AM: My alarm goes off. It’s finally here: Portland Burger Week 2016.
8:36 AM: I scour my closet for an outfit. I’m disappointed in my lack of burger attire. I make a note to myself to buy more cheeseburger garb.
8:37 AM: Slip into the largest pants I own. My waist will be bloated and stretched today, and it’s best to be prepared for anything. Less constriction = more burgers.
8:38 AM: I also make a note to purchase maternity pants for Burger Week 2017.
10:35 AM: Recruit. I need someone to eat a lunch burger with. I find my first victim, Dwight. He agrees to join me. I’m not sure he knew what he was signing up for…
12:01 PM: We arrive at Kell’s. I enter the parking lot the wrong way, and I’m forced to waste some time Austin-Powering into a parking space.
12:03 PM: I exit the car. “I have a really good feeling about this, Dwight. Everything's going my way.”
12:04 PM: I drop my phone on the ground. Perhaps I was wrong.
12:06 PM: We’re seated. My hands shake with anticipation. I don’t feel ready. The stress of Burger Week looms... Will I eat a satisfying amount of burgers? Will it exceed my expectations? Or am I doomed to disappointment?
12:08 PM: The waitress asks if we need a menu. I laugh and say, “Not necessary, we’re here for the burgers.” She gives me a blank stare, and writes down the order. I also get a ginger ale to settle my nerves.
12:18 PM: My burger arrives. My nerves subside. In the presence of such a beautiful creation, how could I have any other emotion but pure, heart bursting joy? It smells glorious. If I could bottle up the scent into a perfume, I would. Why wouldn’t I want to smell like fried onions all the time? I hear men find it irresistible.
Kell's Shepard's Pie Burger
12:19 PM: I take my first bite. The concept alone deserves a standing ovation. Kell’s Burger Week burger is a Shepard’s pie with a twist. They keep the burger open so you can see the mashed potato patty, and boy, is it a sight for sore eyes. Collectively, it’s constructed of a ciabatta bun, mashed potato patty on top of a beef patty mixed with carrots, onions, and shallots, melted cheese, fried onions, lettuce, and tomato with a sauce to tie it all together. The meat tastes almost as if it’s seasoned like a Swedish meatball. The cheese melts perfectly. The fried onions add the perfect amount of crunch and the ciabatta ensures the bun isn't too soggy. But the real hero in this beast of a burger is the mashed potato patty. The best decision I made was not wasting valuable stomach space with fries, because I enjoyed every bite.
I rate it a solid 8.75.
5:31 PM: Church received high rankings during last year’s burger week, coming in at second place. Therefore, this is one of my most anticipated burgers of 2016. As a seasoned professional, I know that their burger typically sells out quick, so my official burger buddy @NNanpei and I arrive at 5:30pm. We’re joined by a Burger Week novice, Phil.
5:36 PM: Phil is dumbfounded when Nick and I casually discuss eating 4 burgers in a day. WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE, PHIL.
5:41 PM: Our burgers arrive. Without even tasting it, I immediately give extra points due to Church’s use of pun. They’ve named their burger the “Figgy Smalls” burger, and it’s made up of homemade fig and jalapeño jam, double cream brie, and butter toasted almonds on a Grand Central potato bun. There’s nothing I appreciate more than creativity during Burger Week. It delivers on flavor, but I still feel like it’s missing something. I don’t taste much of the fig. Perhaps the burger was a touch overcooked, or there wasn’t enough sauce-to-bun ratio, so I’m a little disappointed. However, it makes up for it with the brie and butter toasted almonds. The bites melt in my mouth, offering an intriguing mix of sweetness. My only complaint is that each bite is different – some offer explosions of flavor, others leave me unimpressed. In comparison, I enjoyed last year’s burger much more. For that, I give it a relatively high ranking of 8.5. Points for creativity, pun, and overall satisfaction, but docked slightly for inconsistency.
Church's "Figgy Smalls" burger
5:46 PM: Phil says Nick and I are harsh critics. Perhaps we are. It is also early in the week, so it’s difficult to give a conclusive score. But we take burger week seriously, and expect restaurants to do the same.
5:58 PM: We embark on foot towards our next destination: Club 21.
6:03 PM: I’ve never been to Club 21 before, and if I wasn’t with people who knew where it was, I would have overlooked it, and assumed it was a strip club. It looks like a life-sized version of a child’s playhouse. Inside, rifles and dead animal heads decorate wood panel walls, along with old bar signs. I feel like I’m in a conservative Grandpa’s basement.
6:05PM: We’re joined by Marc and Chelsea, Portland Food Week veterans, who also joined me on my regrettable Pizza Week conquests.
6:16 PM: We order our burgers. They give us free Burger Week Tattoos!!! If they’re trying to get easy points, it’s working.
6:18 PM: Club 21 has a unique Burger Week system in that you get a ticket, and go outside to watch your burger sizzle fresh off the grill. It feels like I’m at a middle school barbecue, and I love it.
6:35 PM: Club 21 calls theirs the “Cantina Club Burger”. It offers a local Painted Hills ground beef seasoned with a secret blend of spices, then topped with tortilla strips, lettuce, bacon, queso fresco, habanero salsa, and a chili-lime crema. I have to say, I completely disagree with the Portland Mercury writer – this thing is SPICY. I’m a total wimp when it comes to spicy food, but my mouth is on fire and my lips are burning. Maybe I’m just being a baby, but I could only manage a few bites before I had to tap out because it was too much for me. I will say I appreciated the generosity on saucing – they slather crema on BOTH sides of the bun. Unfortunately, I can only rate this one a 7. It was a really solid effort but for my taste buds it was a little too much.
6:21 PM: I DID BUY A SOUVENIR SHIRT THOUGH!
6:45 PM: We float around the idea of another burger… Phil instantly says no. It’s fine, someday he’ll learn… Chelsea’s mouth is still recovering from the fire of the Club 21 burger, so she and Marc decide against it. Nick has plans to meet with his family at Davis Street Tavern, but we decide to “think” about it.
6:47 PM: We begin to walk back to our cars. Knowing I have a Burger Week time crunch, I decide I should bite the bullet (or, burger?) and go for it. I didn’t wear my big pants for nothin’. Nick is still on the fence. I suggest we flip a coin. Heads, we get another burger. Tails, we call it quits.
6:48 PM: The coin flips… It’s heads. ANOTHER BURGER IT IS!
6:58 PM: I decide the BTU Brasserie General Tso Chicken Burger is next. In the pictures it appears to be small, so I figure it will be a manageable 4th burger.
7:13 PM: We arrive at BTU Brasserie. I’ve never even heard of this place before, but when I spot a guy walking up to the door shouting “BURGERS!!!” I know I’m in the right place.
7:18 PM: There’s a line forming at the door, and not a hostess in sight. Burger lovers begin to panic. Some leave for the bar. Others cross their fingers and hope for answers.
7:21 PM: A hostess appears and explains that it’s only her and one other guy working. She shows Nick and I to a table. At the table next to us, I see a coworker. I tell her about my burger exploits of the day. Her friend exclaims, “Wow, four burgers in a day?? Are you planning on keeping up that pace for the entire week?” Yes. YES, I AM.
7:31 PM: Unfortunately, still no sign of a server. Nick has to leave for his dinner. I decide to move to the bar so I can lessen the embarrassment of eating a burger alone.
7:34 PM: I take a spot at the bar. In the group next to me is the guy who yelled “BURGERS!!!” earlier. I assess the group and notice they’re all wearing cheeseburger pins. A couple arrives, and it turns out they know this group. I ask if they want to switch spots, so they can sit near each other and they say, “No, we’re all in this together now!”
7:36 PM: I instantly bond with this group of burger lovers. We discuss the burgers we tried, exchanging flavor notes and ratings. One girl pulls out a detailed, handwritten guide for the burgers she wants to try next. Another offers me a burger pin. They tell me about how there’s a Portland Burger Week burger car, and the person driving it wears a cheeseburger costume and hands out cheeseburger pins and various cheeseburger swag. I’VE FOUND MY PEOPLE.
7:38 PM: Their burgers arrive. I watch with a tinge of jealousy, wishing we could all share a glorious burger together. They assure me it’s one of the best yet, and I should “get excited.”
7:48 PM: My burger finally arrives. It’s bigger than it looks in the pictures, and I’m a little concerned I won’t be able to finish it. But I feel a lot of pressure to prove myself to my new burger BFFs, and so I power through it.
BTU Brasserie "General Tso's Chicken Burger"
7:49 PM: The BTU Brasserie “General Tso’s Chicken Burger” is a work of art. It’s crispy fried chicken, napa cabbage salad, Chinese sausage, and shiitake mushroom jam between two bao buns topped with toasted sesame seeds. I grew up eating Hom Bao, and I’m instantly transported back to childhood. There is SO. MUCH. FLAVOR. I’m having a really hard time containing myself because I could scream it’s so good. Normally, chicken burgers are against my principles. As many of you know, I’m a burger purist and I believe that burgers must always consist of beef patties. But for this gloriousness, I might change my mind. The bao bun melts in my mouth, AND MY HEART. I rate it an extremely high 9. We’ll see how the rest of Burger Week pans out, but this is my favorite thus far.
8:03 PM: The Olympics play on the TV. I look around and see everyone eating cheeseburgers. Suddenly my heart bursts with patriotism. F*CK YEAH BURGER WEEK. F*CK YEAH, AMERICA!!!
8:15 PM: I part ways with my new burger BFFs and we wish each other well on the journey ahead. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow at Noraneko!” they say. I feel like I just met a new crush and got their number, but instead of exchanging numbers, we exchanged burger plans. This is what Burger Week is all about – bringing people together through a mutual love of cheeseburgers.
8:17 PM: I drive back home, while watching a stunning sunset in my rearview mirror, and reminisce on an excellent day of burgers. While this would normally be a beautiful moment, I’m bloated AF and need to lay down immediately. I also feel greasy.
8:45 PM: I take a shower to rid myself of grease and sin. I look in the mirror and see a pimple beginning to form. This is only the beginning…
9:47 PM: I think to myself, I could eat another burger right now... I'm full, but I'm not THAT full. If I really committed, I could do it...
9:48 PM: I look up the Burger Week restaurants to see what is still open.
9:49 PM: A burger devil and a burger angel appear on my shoulder. Burger devil says, “You only have one more day. You should probably make the most of it.” Burger angel says, “You already ate 4 burgers and your heart might stop if you try to eat one more. That’ll do, pig, that’ll do.”
10:30 PM: For once in my life, I decide to listen to burger angel. I put on my new cheeseburger shirt, and drift into dreams of burgers, dancing in my head.
While my initial concept was to create a one hour long visual film simply titled: Burger, Beyonce’s lawyers said they would sue me for $100,000 trillion dollars. As you read, you will just have to imagine a burger wearing a fur coat, smashing car windows with a bat, and singing: “I can taste the dishonesty / it’s all over your [pizza] breath…”
* * *
Sometimes my friends and I like to play a game called “Do, Dump, or Date.” The basic premise of the game is one person names three different people, and you have to decide which one you will do (a one night stand, and not the type of furniture ifyaknowwaddimean), dump (tell 'em boy, bye!), or date (you’re locked down with this choice forever).
Since I’m only attracted to food, my rules for this game are limited to various categories of cuisine.
Recently, we were playing my version of this game, and a friend asked: do, dump or date – pizza, burgers, tacos.” Without hesitation, I obviously picked date burger, do pizza, and dump tacos (apologies to Taco Bell, we’ve just had too much of a tumultuous relationship...).
The truth surfaced. The secret I’ve quietly kept to myself was finally revealed: I’ll fux with pizza.
Facebook was poppin’ with event invites. Amateur DJ shows left and right. Someone’s having a birthday party and they invited 800 people. Then I saw it: Portland Pizza Week 2016. After Burger Week 2015, TMZ quoted me saying “I want all weeks to be dedicated to food.” Bless you, Portland Mercury, for making my dreams come true. Curse you, Portland Mercury, for making me choose between burgers and pizza.
Eyes darting left and right, I clicked “going.” It’s official – I’m cheating on burger week.
They post the list of participating pizza places online with bios and photos of the slices. I meticulously research and identify the pizzas that interest me. I’m a little sick to my stomach. This is the exact plan of action I take when deciding on Burger Week burgers, but this time it’s with pizza. It doesn’t feel right.
Meanwhile, Burger wears a fabulous dress amidst flames, swings a string of lights over its head and ferociously screams: “WHO DA FUQ DO U THINK I AM / YOU AIN’T MARRIED TO AN AVERAGE BURGER, BOY.”
Pizza week begins. I give every excuse in the book.
“I’m just doing it to compare with burger week.”
“It would be wrong for me to pass up $2 slices.”
“I only want to try a few of them.”
I disguise my guilt by telling myself it’s all for the blog, and my post will be about how pizza week will never be as good as burger week. As the week progresses, I’m losing sight of why I started. I’m trying all of these different pizzas and I’m feeling a little more satisfied than I’m comfortable with.
I start with the loaded baked potato pizza from Roman Candle and it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before, but I try to downplay it. I move onto Atlas’s whiskey soaked smoked brisket pizza. It’s tasty but very heavy, and leaves me feeling disgusted with myself.
The next day, I try the Nacho Porko from Pizza Schmizza. It was good but it just didn’t excite me in the way I expected it to. A few days later, I visit Sizzle Pie for their slices: Yin Yang Theory and vegan Dagger Moon. I’m surprised to find that I like the vegan pizza better than the regular pizza. Vegan? Really?? I don't even know who I am anymore?!
I would NEVER date pizza. Baby, this is just a one time thing! I promise it won’t happen again…
Burger brazenly retaliates: “Better call pizza with the good cheese.”
My stomach is full, but my heart is empty. None of this feels right. I haven’t felt the rush of speeding to an establishment before they run out of supply. Pizza doesn’t give me meat sweats like a fine, juicy patty does.
I appreciate all of the Pizza Week participants but they just lack that special spark I have with Burger Week. Putting arugula or Italian sausage on some crust just isn’t doing it for me. Where is the creativity?! Where is the PASSION???
I want burger week back.
I decide the first meal I’m going to have after pizza week is a burger. After all, we have a child together (named ihadtheburger.com) and our brand is built on burgers NOT sidechick slices. This will set things right in the world again. Maybe…
Ashes to ashes, dust to pizzas.
I eat my last slice of Pizza Week pizza. It was the Reubenesque from Blackbird pizza, which was essentially a reuben on crust, carefully loaded with sauerkraut, thin-sliced pastrami, swiss, mozzarella, and a hint of mustard. I hate myself for saying this, but it was amazing. I try my best to forget about it as soon as I finish, and focus on the burgers ahead.
Okay burgers, now let’s get in formation.
After giving Pizza Week a chance, I ultimately feel unimpressed with a majority of the pizzas. I decide I need to redeem myself and stick to my original plan: only talk about how burger week is much better than pizza week.
I eat a burger. It’s nothing fancy, just a quick no frills fix from a random restaurant. But it feels pure.
I only had 6 slices of pizza throughout the week. I had 14 burgers during Burger Week. That’s saying something about where my allegiance lies, right…?
Was it worth it? NO.
Well, yes. Sorta. Ugh.
But ULTIMATELY NO!
The conclusion is that nothing can ever beat Burger Week. Pizza Week was great. We had some fun times, and good slices. A few places got creative with it, which I can respect, appreciate, and admire.
But just like Beyonce, nothing in this world can ever compare to the greatness of a cheeseburger. Burger Week has an incomprehensible level of excellence that consistently raises the bar and leaves all of us at its mercy. Nothing blew my mind the way a burger does on the daily.
So, for the rest of my days I will attempt to redeem myself in the form of public unrequited devotion to burgers.
If you want to read the rest, you can stream it on Tidal.
"Where are you from?"
"Portland..."
I've told this lie countless times. As much as I like to pretend like I came out of the womb wearing flannel, it’s time to come clean. The truth is, I am a suburban princess.
I grew up in Lake Oswego – a suburb only 15 minutes away from Portland but a world of a difference. Instead of strip clubs, we have strip malls. It’s a place where acrylic nails and caramel macchiatos thrive. A place where people pay millions to live on a man-made lake infested with algae. But within this alternate universe of Ugg boots and vanity license plates, there lies one gem that remains unscathed: Giant Burger.
Eating at Giant Burger is like a rite of passage for any Lake Oswego native. When kids reach middle school, it’s an age old tradition to cross the train tracks and trek to the Giant Burger on early release days. I vividly remember my own pilgrimage.
The year was 2003 and it was the first early release of the year, meaning LO school districts ended at 11:15am. I went to Waluga Junior High, but when we arrived at the Giant Burger, our rival school Lake Oswego Junior High was also in attendance. We kept our distance, each staying on our side of the outdoor picnic tables. The air was thick with tension. All it took was a sly comment about which football team was better, and all hell broke loose. They called the cops, and we were all told to go home. I never got to finish my burger – a true tragedy.
The parking lot where the infamous 2003 Junior High brawl broke out.
As I reminisced on my younger years, I decided it was time to return to Giant Burger and see if it was good as I remember. Can a burger from the suburbs (aka a suburb-ger) compete with Portland’s finest patties?
Walking into Giant Burger is like walking into a time machine. The establishment is over 30 years old but remains completely unchanged with retro A-frame architecture, vinyl leather booths, and mustard yellow and brown color schemes. It’s like the Pharrell of restaurants – ageless and beautiful even after all these years.
I approach the counter. There’s a stack of pamphlets reading “GLUTEN IS A MYTH.” Seems legit.
A sign taped to the register says CASH ONLY. Yes, in 2016, they only accept cash and do not have an ATM within the restaurant. It’s all part of the charm.
While the Giant Burger is famous for its (you guessed it) Giant Burger, they offer over 30 different burger combinations. But rookies be warned – only a fool would think they were strong enough to battle the goliath that is The Filler (aka the Giant Burger), which includes two pieces of bacon, cheddar cheese, one all beef patty, a slice of ham, another patty, one large egg over medium, pickles, onions, tomatoes, and lettuce on a toasted sesame bun.
I decide to go with the classic cheeseburger, along with cajun fries and a banana milkshake for good measure. We take a spot in a booth, instantly comforted by the majestic unicorn wall art. If you look at a different angle, you can spot a dragon. It sells for the reasonable price of $125.
$125 for this masterpiece? It's a steal of a deal.
Our food arrives in plastic yellow baskets because this is a BURGER JOINT and they don’t fux with plates here. I peer into my basket and meet my old friend, the classic cheeseburger. A toasted sesame seed bun, all beef patty, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, shredded lettuce, thick onion slice, mayonnaise and ketchup. It’s so no-frills that I don’t really have anything to write about, aside from the fact that it tastes as good as I remember. It boggles my mind how they can take something so simple and make it into something so magical. It truly is something you need to taste for yourself.
The cajun fries are perfectly crispy with the right consistency – not too thin, not too thick. The fry seasoning has a zesty kick that makes you unable to stop eating until you find yourself picking at the crumbs to savor the flavor for just a second more. The banana milkshake is creamy and thick, and you can taste the potassium seeping into your veins. Everything about this experience is pure bliss. Is it the onion enzymes in the air, or am I about to cry of happiness?
Alas, all good things must come to an end. I feel grateful that this time it wasn’t a result of someone calling the cops on a middle school brawl. Overcome with emotion and burger-induced euphoria, I leave my Giant Burger time machine behind, knowing that 30 years from now, I can probably expect the exact same experience.
Never change, Giant Burger. Never change.
*Irons out creases on power pantsuit*
*Taps mic*
Hello, is this thing on? Yes? Ok.
My fellow Americans, I come to you with very important news. You have been LIED TO for too long. I’m afraid I can’t keep my silence any longer.
Some of you think of today as “National Sandwich Day”. While I am a wholehearted believer and supporter of sandwiches, I’m here to stand up for what I believe in. And that is...
*dramatic pause for effect*
*The crowd whispers frantically in a frenzy of disbelief and outrage*
*A woman in the back of the press room faints*
After much deliberation, I have proof. In a careful study conducted by professional Twitter robot scientists, 72% of people DO NOT consider a burger a sandwich, and the numbers are growing at an alarming rate. The other 28% are completely wrong, and probably do erratic things like go on juice cleanses or refer to full grown cats as kittens (it’s a cat, are you for real??). I am no longer on speaking terms with those in the 28%.
Let me be clear: a sandwich is anything between two slices of bread. Peanut butter and jelly between two slices of bread? Sandwich. Spaghetti between two slices of garlic bread? Sandwich. Bread between two slices of bread? Sandwich. LOOK IT UP!
Many of you interested in counter arguing my truth may feel tempted to consult the Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary regarding the word “burger”. There, you will find a completely unhelpful definition reading: “a sandwich similar to a hamburger”. Upon further investigation, you may find “a sandwich consisting of one or more cooked patties of ground meat” constitutes a "hamburger".
There are two important distinctions I would like to make here:
“SIMILAR” does not mean “IS”.
There is a crucial word this definition lacks: BUNS.
You cannot have a burger without a bun. I repeat, you CANNOT have a burger without a bun! Additionally, you also need a patty. Could you put thinly-sliced deli meat in a bun and call it a burger? No. You would call that a sandwich. If you put a ground beef patty between two slices of bread, is it a burger? NO. IT’S A SIGN YOU NEED TO GET YOUR LIFE TOGETHER.
I did my best to bite my tongue while Burger Week participants tried to pass meatballs or pork as burgers. Sure, they were delicious. But they were SANDWICHES. And as my burger passion and cholesterol rises, I must stand up for what is right. My hope is that we can finally rid our world of this injustice and let the truth roar its head onto all future generations to come. Take a good hard look into the mirror, AMERICA, and ask yourself: “Do I really want to keep living a lie?”
You call a spade a spade. It’s time to call a burger a BURGER!
*Rips off pantsuit to reveal cheeseburger undergarments*
*Lights podium on fire*
Thank you. I will not be taking any questions at the moment. For all media requests, please refer to my trusted publicist and confidant, Guy Fieri.
