Gourmet Burger Co.


Location: 843 Kipling Avenue, Toronto
UPDATE: This particular location is closed (it’s been replaced with Big Butcher Barbeque); check their website for other locations.
Websitehttp://thegourmetburgerco.com/

Some burgers, like everything else, are just average.  They straddle that line between really good and really bad, without gathering much buzz; they’re just there, receding from your memory almost immediately after consumption.  The burgers at Gourmet Burger Co. fall squarely into this category.

The restaurant has a clean look to it, and it’s laid out much like many burger joints in Toronto; you order your burger, pay, then pick up your food from the counter when it’s ready.

I went pretty simple, ordering a plain burger topped with tomatoes, pickles and GBC sauce (described as a mixture of mayo, ketchup, hot sauce, mustard, honey, and roasted garlic).

My first impression was that the burger had obviously been cooked on a griddle, resulting in a moderate amount of crust on the patty.  Not as much as at a place like Burger’s Priest or Holy Chuck, but it was there.

The beef has that muddled flavour typical of mediocre quality beef.  It’s okay; it’s a bit bland, but it tastes fine.  It’s also too lean and a bit overcooked, resulting in a drier texture than you might like.

The GBC sauce is a bit on the strong side, with an overpoweringly salty/vinegary flavour.  I wouldn’t get it again.  The pickles and tomato were fine, and the soft bun, though a tad on the large side and a bit more substantial than I’d like, complimented the burger fairly well.

I ordered the onion rings on the side, and they were fresh, with a crispy, tasty batter.  The onions were yielding and well-cooked; they were definitely a highlight.

All in all it wasn’t the best burger ever, but if I found myself in the area again, I wouldn’t object to eating another one.  Like I said, it’s average; it’s not a burger that anyone is going to swoon over, but it gets the job done.

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Goody’s Diner


Location: 133 Manville Road, Scarborough
UPDATE: It appears that, sadly, Goody’s Diner has closed down.
Websitehttp://www.goodysdiner.com/

When a place gets a 300+ post thread at Chowhound, you pretty much have to sit up and take notice.  When that thread deals largely with the greatness of the establishment’s burgers, you can pretty much guarantee I’ll be there at some point.  So of course, I eventually found myself at Goody’s Diner, an unassuming little place tucked away in a drab business park.  Not the most auspicious of locations, but it’s the food that counts.

A quick glance at the menu reveals a burger called the Goody’s Burger; since it’s my general policy to to get any burger named after the restaurant, the selection process was quite easy.  The friendly waitress came by; I ordered.  Fries or salad?  Yeah, okay, I’m really going to order a salad.  With a hamburger. (to be fair, my dining companion ordered the salad and said it was above average.)

A short while later, the burger came, and it is enormous.  The menu labels it as an eight ounce burger (i.e. half a pound) and that’s definitely no exaggeration.  The thing is massive.  It’s not kidding around, that’s for sure.

The Goody’s Burger comes topped with “grilled peameal bacon, mushrooms, jalapeno havarti, caramelized onion, lettuce and tomato.” First things first, this is a meatloaf-style burger; they tell you right on the menu that it’s mixed in with “roasted garlic and our secret spice blend” (and I have to thank them for this — there’s nothing worse than expecting a standard burger, only to get one perfumed with onion, garlic, and who-knows-what-other-spices.  This style of burger can be perfectly tasty, but there is no doubt that it is very different from a traditional burger and should be labeled as such).

And it is actually pretty tasty.  Meatloaf-style burgers are not my favourite, however this was definitely one of the better ones that I’ve had.  It was quite juicy, and the spicing wasn’t too aggressive, allowing some of the burger’s beefiness to shine through.  The burger was a bit chewier and more sausage-like than I would prefer, but that seems to be par for the course for this style of hamburger.

As for the many toppings — they would almost surely overwhelm a smaller, more traditional burger.  But between the gigantic size of the patty itself and the strong spice blend, the burger is definitely the dominant flavour here.  The toppings compliment it quite nicely, as does the soft yet substantial bun.

Though the fries are of the battered variety (like the meatloaf-style burger, this is generally not my favourite), they are above average; crunchy, potatoey, and without the overly processed flavour that battered fries tend to have.  They’re also lightly seasoned with rosemary, which makes them pretty tasty on their own without much need for a dipping sauce.

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Holy Chuck

Location: 1450 Yonge St., Toronto
Websitehttp://www.holychuckburgers.com/

I think there’s one thing I have to get out of the way before I talk about the burgers at Holy Chuck.  Whoever owns the place obviously likes The Burger’s Priest.  A lot.  Both places have similar menus (right down to the presence of a cheese-stuffed, deep fried mushroom), serve a similar style of hamburger, and have similarly religious-themed names.

I don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with this.  Though The Burger’s Priest was a bit of an oddity for Toronto, all they’re doing is serving the type of burger that’s been ubiquitous in the States for many, many years.  Specifically, much inspiration was taken from In-N-Out,  a well known burger chain in the southwestern United States.  If we start seeing even more places that serve burgers in this style (and do it well) in Toronto, that would make me a very happy man.  Perhaps if enough of these places open up and people realize how burgers are actually supposed to taste, we’ll start seeing the decline of frozen patty purveyors like Johnny’s, and meatloaf sandwiches masquerading as burgers like Lick’s.  I can dream, can’t I?

Anyway, Holy Chuck.

I actually went at lunch, without a particularly huge appetite, and planned on getting something reasonably small — probably single patty.  But my general policy is to order any burger off the menu that shares a name with the restaurant, and in this case the eponymous burger consisted of two patties, two slices of cheese, sauteed onions, and bacon.  So much for small.  I also opted to upgrade to the combo, because, well, go big or go home, right?

After a five minute or so wait, I got my burger, as is.  It didn’t strike me that this burger needed any further condiments, though even if it had, I would have been out of luck — for this particular burger, the menu very emphatically states “NO TOPPINGS ALLOWED!

My first impression was that the cheese appeared to be unmelted, though cutting into the burger it was clear that this was thankfully not the case.

Look at that burger.  Seriously.  Behold.  Yes, it’s as good as it looks. Beefy, juicy, greasy, with a perfectly brown crust from the hot griddle, this is close to burger perfection.  The flavour isn’t quite as richly beefy as at The Burger’s Priest, but it’s close. The soft sauteed onions compliment the burger perfectly, as does the thickly cut bacon.  The cheese is American, de rigueur for a burger such as this; so too is the supple, soft bun.

Actually, let me talk about the cheese for a bit.  Two slices is the standard for a double cheeseburger (it’s what they serve at the Priest, and pretty much everywhere else a double cheeseburger is found).  However, I’m starting to think that two slices is just too much, and that one slice is more appropriate.   One slice gives the burger a welcome creaminess and a nice cheesy tang; two slices threatens to compete with the beef in the flavour department.  This is fine if the beef is iffy, but if I’m eating somewhere like Holy Chuck where the beef is above average, I want the toppings to compliment the burger, not compete for dominance.

And yes, the beef is definitely above average here.   Cooked medium well with a blush of pink, the beef is packed with flavour and is fantastically juicy.  I overheard a fellow customer ask if the burgers could be cooked to order, and the man behind the counter responded that yes, they can do anything from rare to well done.   I had already ordered my burger when this nugget of info was revealed; however, though my preference is generally medium rare, this burger was so perfect at medium well that I might just leave well enough alone and continue ordering it without any alterations when I return.

I’ve heard the complaint leveraged that the Holy Chuck burger is too greasy.  This is nonsense.  If someone tries to tell you that they think the burger is too greasy, smile, nod, and immediately discount anything that this person has to say on the topic of hamburgers; it’s sad to say it, but they are lost to the horrors of Toronto’s mediocre burger scene.  We’re so used to too-lean, overcooked and completely dried out burgers that the burgers like the ones served at Holy Chuck stand out as odd.  But this is how a burger is supposed to taste.  A burger that is edible without the assistance of at least a couple of napkins is, to put it bluntly, not worth eating.

I mentioned before that I had a smallish appetite and was considering not getting the combo, but oh boy, am I glad I did.  The fries are perfect: crispy, salty, flavourful, with a fluffy interior and just the right amount of crunch.  I’ve eaten a lot of French fries in my life, and these were among the best that I’ve ever had.  Suffice it to say, this is one area in which Holy Chuck beats the Burger’s Priest quite handily.

If you’re just skimming this review (it is a little wordy, I’ll admit it), the Reader’s Digest version is this: go to Holy Chuck.  Now.   Even if it’s not quite as good, it easily rivals The Burger’s Priest for fast food burger dominance in Toronto.  Wading through so much burger mediocrity for this blog, it’s easy for forget why I even love burgers so much in the first place.  Holy Chuck is just the reminder that I needed. It is a ray of light piercing through the darkness. It’s pretty fantastic.

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Epic Burgers and Waffles


Location: The Ex
Website: Epic Burgers and Waffles (Facebook)

Sometimes a food item is just so insane, you pretty much have no choice but to try it.  Last year at the Ex, the crazy food getting all the attention was  deep fried butter (which I tried, and which was nothing too special — it just tastes like a doughnut hole with a molten butter centre).  This year, the buzzed-about carnival food was the Krispy Kreme hamburger.  Doughnut hamburgers are nothing new, but I believe this was our first shot at trying them in the GTA (without making them yourself, I mean).

The line for this was easily the longest line in the food building, so obviously I’m not the only one curious about these monstrosities.  I noticed, while in line, that Epic Burgers and Waffles advertises their burger as a “smashburger,” a popular American burger style in which the beef is smashed down on the griddle, providing a satisfyingly crispy crust (think Burger’s Priest or Five Guys).  Could this actually be a good burger, aside from the novelty factor?

After a few minutes, my turn came.  I elected for the bacon and a fried egg-topped burger, because if you’re going to get a Krispy Kreme burger, you may as well go all the way.

I sat down, and it immediately became apparent that this was not a dainty hamburger.  It’s pretty much impossible to eat this thing without making a mess; the heat of of the burger and toppings melts the glaze on the doughnut, resulting in a sticky mess.

First: this is not a smashburger.  It’s a slightly better-than-average frozen burger, which by definition cannot be a smashed burger (frozen burgers are, obviously, preformed, whereas smashed burgers start as a ball and are smashed down on the griddle).  The burgers were actually cooked in such a way as to create a bit of a crust, but they’re still frozen burgers.  I’m reminded of an expression relating to lipstick and pigs.

As for the doughnut/hamburger combination?  It’s not bad.  It’s not great, certainly, but if you’re partial to foods that combine sweet and salty, this might just be something you’ll like.  It actually reminded me a lot of a McGriddle (the presence of bacon and an egg probably solidifies that connection), so if you’ve had one of those, then you pretty much know what to expect here.

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BBQ Express


Location: 1240 Bay Street, Toronto
Website: None

I’ve seen things done to burgers.  Bad things: frozen burgers, overly-spiced burgers, too-lean burgers, burgers ground too finely, burgers with filler, burgers with bad quality meat…  I thought I had seen it all.  I was wrong.

BBQ Express is one of those places I’ve walked by many times, though it took the prospect of reviewing it for this blog to actually walk in.  It’s a tiny place; there’s basically just enough room to stand there and order.

They advertise a homemade burger, so I ordered it thinking “how bad could this be?”

Then something happened I don’t think I’ll ever forget.  The woman who took my order moseyed on over to the grill, opened a foil bag with a stack of pre-cooked hamburgers, and slapped one on the grill.

I stood there in shock.  Did I really just see that?  Is that really a pre-cooked hamburger, cooked who-knows-when? Is she actually going to reheat that and serve it to me?

My pulse quickened.  Fight or flight kicked in.  A voice in my head screamed “Run!  Run now and never look back!”  And if it hadn’t been for this blog, there’s no way I would have eaten that hamburger.  I would have politely given the grill lady some excuse, and I would have high-tailed it out of there.

The things I do for you.

I got my hamburger topped with pickles, tomato and mayo, and I walked across the street to sit outside and eat my meal.

I took my pictures of the uncut burger, then, as I am wont to do when I’m reviewing a burger for this blog, I cut it in half so I could take a picture of the burger’s innards.  Cutting into the burger, it was immediately clear that something was wrong.  The hamburger was suspiciously difficult to cut in half.  The meat was tough, almost like trying to cut through a steak.

Hesitantly, I took a bite.  The burger was — surprise, surprise — unusually dry.  It was also tough and leathery with an almost jerky-like texture around the edges.

This was also a meatloaf-style burger.  It wasn’t too strongly-spiced, though this was one instance where I actually would have preferred for the beef to be disguised by other flavours; the beef had a funky, vaguely unpleasant flavour.

The only reason I’m not going to give this burger zero stars is that I actually managed to finish the whole thing, so I guess it wasn’t completely inedible.  But then that probably speaks more to my gluttony than to the general quality of this burger.  Seriously: this was a terrible, terrible hamburger.  I’m pretty sure I’ve had worse in my lifetime, though I’m having a hard time thinking of any right now.

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