It is written: "Man does not live on bread alone." Man lives on bread, meat and cheese stacked mightily, the pinnacle of American culinary brilliance — the cheeseburger. Often seen in its basest form, the cheeseburger has populated the menus of diners, fast−food joints and taverns for decades. In its most highly evolved form, this mouthwatering creation pummels the Hulk to the ground, outsmarts Sir Isaac Newton and beats Zoolander in a walk−off. In the epic quest for cheeseburger glory, these two reporters ventured from your friendly neighborhood food truck to city−wide restaurants in their search for Boston's best burger.
We laid down a few ground rules before commencing our hunt. Rule #1: It's all about the burger. Sides are just a bonus. Rule #2: There's no such thing as too much cheese. Corollary to Rule #2: We mean it. More cheese. Rule #3: Although the milkshake−burger combo is highly regarded, this is strictly a burger affair.
Let us start by dispelling one pervasive burger myth. Mr. Bartley's and Boston Burger Company cannot contend with the true heavy hitters. These restaurants are a great starting point for burger enthusiasts but don't deliver the same caliber burger as do the best Boston establishments.
Instead of perfecting its signature burger taste, Mr. Bartley's opts for a variety of flavor combinations. There exists no consistent level of quality among their options; some fall well above the mean, others are terribly misguided creations. Although a clever naming system (The Viagra, The Oprah, etc.), tasty frappes and a kitschy atmosphere make dining here an enjoyable experience, the basic components of their burgers just don't make the cut. Their giant patties and massively piled toppings dwarf an otherwise unremarkable bun, leaving you with a mess of food that doesn't resemble or taste like the burger you wanted.
Boston Burger Company does a better job of vetting their menu, with each combination of flavors equally capable of sating your burger−lust. Unfortunately, where the toppings solidly impress, the meat never quite reaches that same standard. Toppings for The King (peanut butter, bacon, fried bananas) and the Green Monstah (guacamole, pico de gallo) score points as successful, bold arrangements, but without an expertly cooked patty beneath them, the final product leaves you wanting. Though the progeny of Mr. Bartley and "Mrs." Boston Burger Company would truly be a force to be reckoned with, we don't expect a marriage any time soon.
At Five Guys, UBURGER and Flat Patties, a few bucks will buy you an overcooked, unimaginative and largely forgettable burger. Want unlimited free toppings? Five Guys. A burger and milkshake in under 15 minutes? UBURGER. An East−Coast attempt at a West−Coast burger? Flat Patties.
Upscale alternatives, including Eastern Standard and 5 Napkin Burger, deliver higher−class ingredients and more creative flair, but their execution leaves something to be desired. Eastern Standard attempts a traditional, no−nonsense burger but fails to set itself apart from the competition. 5 Napkin's flagship burger sounds delicious on paper, but the patty's conspicuous lack of flavor detracts from its potential greatness.
Attempting to claw their way up to prestige−burger glory but falling just short are entries from the Bristol Lounge and Craigie on Main. The former plays its hand a touch too predictably, while the latter ventures out into dangerously uncharted waters. Coming in at a whopping $20, the Bristol's punch to your wallet doesn't quite match the one to your taste buds, but it does take the concept of a classic cheeseburger to new heights. The finest of toppings — a thickly sliced tomato, rich butter lettuce and sharp aged cheddar, all nestled within a fluffy brioche bun — brilliantly execute a standard burger, but imagination is lacking.
On the other hand, Craigie on Main's burger features a unique blend of short rib, flap meat, brisket and bone marrow topped with aged cheddar, onions and crisp watercress, served with a side of house−made ketchup. For true meat lovers, in−house smoked bacon is also available at an additional cost. In reality, all of these toppings are overwhelmed by the astoundingly bold flavors of Cragie's patty. This incredible asset is also its undoing, as it throws the overall composition terribly out of balance.
The path to burger glory is littered with the remains of weak and strong alike, but there are only three spots on the podium. Third place is typically reserved for those who have beaten many opponents, only to vanish in the wake of two superior competitors. The burger at Russell House Tavern in Harvard Square deserves more credit. It nails the pairing of beef and bacon flawlessly. Seasoned with a rich blend of spices, which highlights the flavor of the meat itself, this burger is impeccably grilled to your specifications. Each bite of bacon floods your senses with smoky euphoria; it's strong enough to taste through the beef, yet subtle enough to let the precisely layered cheddar and charcoal−grilled onions shine. This powerful medley sits excellently between two thin, griddled English muffins which beautifully frame the dish. A smear of garlic aioli provides the finishing touch on an outstanding burger.
One stop further on the train to Delicious−Town brings us to Sel de la Terre, sister restaurant to haute cuisine powerhouse L'Espalier. Sel de la Terre creates an ingenious riff on the idea of the standard burger. Where others have a single primary flavor, each bite at Sel de la Terre presents a different sampling of its component ingredients, individually planned to accentuate the burger as a whole.
The delicately seasoned beef coupled with rich, buttery pancetta generates an ever−changing dominance in the melded flavors of the meats. The aged Vermont cheddar is sharp enough to compete with the other tastes; this is the only burger that successfully balances the quantity and flavor of meat and cheese so both are always noticeable. The spicy aioli solidifies this burger's spot in the top three, but we can't stress enough their essential inclusion of a spectacular cheese.
We began this journey knowing there could only be one, and at long last, we arrive at the piece de resistance, an offering from Radius simply dubbed The Burger. The Burger, which weighs in at 9 oz, is first seared, then oven−roasted perfectly to your specifications. The patty contains a mixture of salt, pepper and olive oil. Not only is the meat a tremendous culinary achievement, but the cheddar is pristinely melted atop it, drastically improving both the flavor and beauty of the dish. It's also loaded with lightly fried onion strings that maintain their crispy texture despite their proximity to such a juicy patty.
Turning the flavor up to 11, the bun's spread of horseradish sauce is extremely creamy but not exceptionally heavy or overpowering. The sauce adds a smooth layer and another contrasting texture to this already−heavenly creation. Where our second and third place finishers have burgers with isolated and particular elements of genius, Radius's burger delivers the highest level of artistry throughout.
We set you now on the path to glory: when the quest seems too treacherous, always remember: Where good cheese goes, a great burger shall follow.
