Today Jess helped me knock a couple burgers off my list (one cannot eat all of these alone) and we decided to tackle Patty & Bun and Gourmet Burger Kitchen (henceforth called GBK, or FUGBK).
First, Patty and Bun. Lovely, juicy, thoughtful Patty & Bun.
This year, instead of doing a traditional* Christmas burger, Patty & Bun got together with Flat Iron and made this beast of a special called The Iron Patty. It was terrific, and contained all the elements promised cooked to medium rare perfection: a galloway mince beef patty, roscoff onions, fontina ‘goo', dripping & truffle mayo, on a brioche bun with pickled cucumbers on the side. I don't need to say much for this, other than it was scoffed heartily and with great pleasure.
Two more snaps for your viewing pleasure before we leave P&B and things take a dark turn.
THEN WE GET TO BURGER TWO. There was a GBK located right around the corner from Patty & Bun, a convenience that I took advantage of, but should not have. I should have immediately high-tailed it all the way across town, to Red's, or Dirty Bones, or heck, KFC, whose Christmas burger I ate last year and which was, for the record, STILL BETTER THAN THIS, and I'm pretty sure it was just mayonnaise. I learned tonight why I've never been to a GBK: BECAUSE IT IS TERRIBLE.
According to the article I read, it was 'Beef, venison or chicken, topped with hash browns, smoked Applewood cheese, cabbage, bacon and tarragon mayo. All sloshed down with a shameful wheelbarrow of gravy'. None of these are bad ingredients, right? In fact, pretty standard, hardly even worth calling it Christmas-themed. We ordered the venison version (because something had to make it feel festive), and then, soon, this arrived:
Now, okay, objectively, not the worst burger we've ever seen. It may not be the sexy, gooey fun-fest the others have been, but it's not sloppy. The pieces are all there, including the seemingly-obligatory, gratuitous, crowning meat chunk. (A little excess for you, Emma.)
THEN WE OPENED IT UP.
Just LOOK at this:
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A DRIER BURGER IN YOUR LIFE?
Also, that cheese? It had clearly been frozen and then defrosted. It was crumbling, no, flaking out of the burger in oily pieces. FLAKING. How gross is that descriptor for something falling out of your burger that isn't truffle, or parmesan?
Oh, and the 'shameful wheelbarrow of gravy'? THIS:
The only thing shameful about this is the reviewer's description of it. And, well . . . everything else. We poured it over the burger hoping it'd save the day - or at least, fix the sahara-like texture - but alas. Nothing could. Jess didn't even finish her half, calling it - graciously, elegantly - 'a serious misstep'. Oh yes it was, Jess. Oh yes it was.
Now I need to go upstairs, put on my pajamas, and try to forgive myself.
Tomorrow's schedule isn't likely to allow any Eating Christmas, but it will contain editing, laundry, and probably a stomach-ache. EXCITED ALREADY.
Esssss
*I'm flying pretty fast and loose with this word here
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