BY Sean Kelly Keenan November 04, 2009 21:11
You’d think making a good burger would be easy. I mean, how hard can it be, right? Take ground beef, add seasoning, form into patty and grill. Next customer.
Yet as the many so-called gourmet burger joints that have invaded the Toronto area recently show, it’s definitely not that simple. With few exceptions (Gourmet Burger Company, for one), the results I’ve tasted have ranged from unexceptional and overpriced to just plain horrendous. And this goes double whenever the words “naturally raised” or “organic” get touted loudly on the menu (at the now-defunct Terra Burger, for example).
When I heard that Brock Shepherd, the man behind Rice Bar in Kensington Market, had changed his shop into a burger joint featuring naturally raised organic beef, however, I figured this time would be different. So what if his former place was vegan-friendly — the food it served was good. Surely he’d be able to pull off the trick of making a decent, somewhat environmentally sustainable burger with aplomb. Right? Wrong.
From a greener-earth perspective, Burger Bar gets it more right than most. For one, food is served on actual, honest-to-goodness plates — a concept that seems to have been lost on most others in the quick-comfort-food restaurant industry. The sustainable ingredient ethic here extends further than the beef, too, all the way to the New Jersey–sourced, corn-syrup-free $3.25 Boylan sodas. (Want a Coke? Go to the variety store, buddy.) And to be fair, we’re served a number of items that tweak the taste buds right.
Panko-crusted onion rings ($6) are superb, with an ultra-crisp and crumbly outside surrounding a sweet and tender onion middle. Likewise, the bucketful of tasty sweet potato frites ($5) that comes served up with a terrifically smokey housemade chipotle ketchup. Even the Saag Paneer poutine ($9), which sounds about as appealing as a wedgie to a hernia patient, is damn good, the silky, fragrantly spiced spinach and creamy textured cheese working a serious mess of fries with delicious affection. In fact, pretty much anything on the menu that doesn’t involve meat is a good bet. Even the desserts, such as a wickedly decadent homemade brownie (at $7, easily the best thing on the menu), are outstanding. If the place were called “Sides that are Usually Associated with Burgers and Desserts Bar,” this would be great. Unfortunately, it isn’t. Even more unfortunate is whatever they’re doing to the poor ground beef in the kitchen.
Apparently, Shepherd worked with his butcher for three months to develop just the right blend of meat for his rounds. Apparently, this wasn’t enough time. The six-ounce patties we’re dished up are shrivelled (looking more like large meatballs than burgers), dry and come on buns that are so chewy they could be featured in a denture-glue commercial. Descriptions of the specialty burgers sound nice on paper, but then again so did the Jays at the start of this season. In reality, the combinations just don’t work, prompting us to wonder if anybody from the kitchen actually taste-tested the stuff.
The Gaucho ($8.95), for example, says it comes “smothered in chimichurri — an Argentinean herb sauce.” If by that they meant lightly drizzled with a mixture of chalky, moistened chili powder, then the description is accurate. The market burger ($9.95), featuring a nice blend of chorizo and rice in the mix, is sabotaged by a slimy glop of puréed arugula and a smattering of blue cheese and chèvre — neither being good dance partners with the Spanish sausage involved.
The wild salmon burger ($9) is not a burger at all, but two skin-on portions of decent fillet on a bun spread with a surprisingly uncomplimentary mélange of avocado and tomatillo. A subtly flavoured lamb burger ($9.95) is the best of the bunch, but even here the inclusion of way-too-powerful Danish blue cheese overwhelms the well-met kimchi it’s partnered with, nipping our “at last something we want to eat” feelings in the bud. The straight-up Wagyu burger ($14) does show promise, coming both juicy and well-salted. It also happens to come raw in the middle. Medium rare burgers may appeal to some — they don’t to me. And neither does Burger Bar.