This week I really delayed eating cheeseburgers, and put myself into a pretty sticky spot: go back on my resolution and show the world the true meaning of caprice, or eat TWO CHEESEBURGERS in only ONE DAY.
I went with the latter choice, because I’m a hero. And because apparently I’m perfectly comfortable with compromising my health for the sake of strange promises made on blogs. I laid in bed afterward, gently shaking to myself, and like I had just consumed far too much salt, which I have never believed possible, and honestly still think I’m probably wrong about.
“Slow Burger. You should definitely go to Slow Burger. But get the Slow Burger at the Slow Bar. Wait, no, go to the Burger place – that’s where it’s good. Or maybe it’s at the bar. Definitely get it at the burger place but not the bar, or maybe it’s the other way around. But definitely go there.”
This cloud of sounds and words was how my friend recommended this burger to me.
“Start thinking about where you want to get a burger tonight.” My boyfriend texted me.
Slow Burger! I thought. But is it at the bar? Or just the burger place?
“So, where’d you go for burgers last night?” My friend asked.
“I went to Slow Burger,” I answered. “It wasn’t that great.”
“Did you go to the bar?”
“No, the burger place.”
“See! I told you!”
“Did you?” I grabbed his collar and shook him. “DID YOU??!!” I threw him down on the ground. “IS THAT WHAT YOU SAID? ARE YOU SURE THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID?!”
“Please,” he cried.”Please, I just couldn’t…remember…”
“Well, MAYBE, you should FACT CHECK before you go Yelpin’ burgers at me, HUH?”
I picked him up, dusted him off, and said “Sorry. I’ve been listening to a lot of Biggie Smalls lately.”
So apparently, if you go to retrieve the entity entitled “Slow Burger”, you should retrieve it from the Slow Bar, for sure.
I, however, went to the Slow Burger the Burger Place, and wasn’t particularly impressed. I loved that you get to choose your patty size (rather enlightened move. Bravo. Cheers. Here, here. Get on my back and let me carry you around the stadium.), but my 1/3 lb patty cooked Medium came at me with some of the meat on the left side a bit pink, and the rest of the meat going over to the right side a dingy-gray. Truly, I care not if my burger is cooked all the way through, as long as its still juicy. But when it’s cooked strangely and unevenly, and not to what the order is specified, then why are we bothering with pretending that burgers should be treated like steaks?
P.S. They really shouldn’t be treated like steaks.
P.P.S. I’m an angsty little picnic basket full of opinions.
I was also frustrated that they hadn’t managed to cut my burger bun properly in half (go back up and look at the pic again), but, in the world’s defense, I was really grumpy due to a 2-day hangover of which I was celebrating day 1.
I got the 6oz Big Mike ($8), and Officer Boyfriend got The Original – which I thought was definitely a better burger. I normally try to get the most straightforward burger on a menu, but I deviated this time because the hangover was requiring me to eat bacon and order a Sprite.
Officer Boyfriend’s burger was also better cooked than mine, which suggests that my crappy burger might have been a fluke. I would definitely check out the burger at Slow Bar, and probably visit Slow Burger again and not be surprised by a better product.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t like saying anything to poopy about Kelly’s because I’ve had such a positive experience there since I’ve moved to Portland. It can be a pretty wacky and wild place, with a really diverse clientele, and the staff there is so kind and handles it all really gracefully. They get artists, drunks, service industry, Super Bros, business men and tourists, and it all sorta works out. I started going there when I first moved here because they play MUSIC VIDEOS every MONDAY NIGHT and it’s the best thing in the whole world.
But regardless, I had a really horrible burger there the other night.
The week was nearly up, and with only one burger under my belt, I needed to make another burger happen and FAST. If I’m going to eat at Kelly’s, I’d get their chicken strips and fries for SURE with every sauce they have, because their ranch and honey mustard are extra good, for some demonic reason.
I ordered the $5 happy hour burger, which turned out to not even have cheese on it (I understand if you don’t think this burger should count. I apologize.). I’m sure it was my mistake, because the bartender reiterated to me a few times that I indeed wanted the “Burger.” It came to me as a sort of dry, meaty, brick. It was surrounded by a big fluffy bun, which was fine except I could really only taste bun-fluff and the occasional dry meat brick. There was mayo and toppings, but it was all sort of absorbed by the bun, and being punched in the face by the brick. I left with that feeling of sadness reserved only for when your parents forget to pick you up from soccer practice, or for when nice people feed you something bad.
And this was when I made the impulsive, yet brave choice, to eat a 2nd cheeseburger.
Two cheeseburgers. One day.
I hopped on the Max, with the voice of a co-worker rumbling through my head:
I don’t know why you’re sleeping on my Q Burger recommendation. It’s really good, and might be the diner burger you’re looking for. Pete goes there all the time.
Which Pete ? I asked.
The nice one. Pete, tell her about Q Burger.
The memory of Pete’s voice appeared in my head.
I go there all the time. Pete responded nicely.
I wouldn’t say I had been “sleeping” on Q Burger, but I had been slightly hesitant to go there due to health concerns.
Every burger has at LEAST bacon on it. They offer pulled pork AND brisket. It’s…insane…
I’d been planning on going there some day after a jog, or at least after smoking some legal and recreational Oregon marijuana, but instead I ended up there on the day I decided to cram two burgers down my gullet.
And me oh my was it delicious. It was INDEED the diner burger I was dreaming of, which almost is more about the toppings than the burger.
I believe that the deal with this place was it opened as Seven Rivers BBQ, but then morphed into a burger place, and still retained all of it’s BBQ gear. They have a mile-long burger menu, but you can still go there and order regular BBQ if you wish – OR you can order a burger and have them pile BBQ on top of it. So there is that.
This place was about a mile down Lombard from the Max station on Interstate, so by the time I got there, it was dark, and I can’t say I was quite hungry again, but I can say I was thinking about how someday I might be hungry again.
I chose the Throwback burger ($7.75), which was the most average looking burger, adorned with only american cheese, and of course bacon. You can choose your toppings, but I chose “The works,” because I love ordering things like that, and it came with a lot ot stuff I liked. Grilled onions, dill pickles, mayo, mustard…and maybe some other stuff I can’t remember. The patty was 1/4lb (I’m pretty sure? It might have been a 1/3 – I was a little drowsy.), and was perfectly adequate, juicy, tasted like yummy, well-seasoned ground beef. I hadn’t had a nice sesame seed bun in a minute, and it worked out just fine. The burger held together really well, and I was able to get a bit of everything in a bite.
This is a burger that wants to taste good, be inside of your mouth, and then go bowling with it’s friends on a Friday night – it’s a straightforward nice time. I’d LOVE to go back there and try one of their BBQ Franken-burgers, and I feel slightly remiss at not having ordered one this time, but I had my stomach screaming at me for answers.
Well, smell you later – have a great week.