Beyond the Big Mac: Who's got the best burgers?

[attach]7190[/attach]I’m well aware this review will annoy many readers, but I offer it nonetheless.

Let’s start with the observation that the humble hamburger, once consigned primarily to the likes of McDonald’s, has taken a huge leap forward. These days it has practically attained star status. How else explain the proliferation of burger-focused restaurants?

Thus, when the Burger’s Priest opened its doors a couple of doors along Yonge Street from the Burger Cellar, I couldn’t resist comparing their offerings.

Let’s start with the Burger Cellar. Described by the manager as “a full-service restaurant with a niche-y name,” it’s about as far from the Big Mac as one can get.

The burgers here are hand made from freshly ground local beef. Naturally raised, hormone-free meat from either Ontario or Nebraska are two further options. Burgers are served on china, with linen napkins to mop up the inevitable juices. Toppings include caramelized balsamic red onions, sautéed wild mushrooms, artisan cheeses and even white truffle oil (on the Posh Burger).

The ambience here is trendy and chic, decorated with warm wood and brick and enough modern touches to give it a funky feel. Libations include a good wine list, draft brews and cocktails. And for those looking for an alternative, the menu includes grilled
chicken or salmon and steak frites.

My signature Burger Cellar Burger is topped with Ontario smoked cheddar, apple cider bacon, sautéed mushrooms, chipotle barbecue sauce and a beer-battered onion ring ($12, with an additional $1 for natural beef). It comes in a choice of dairy-free, gluten-free, classic sesame seed or whole wheat bun.

My BCB is a delicious work of art: a fat, juicy burger, a large wedge of melted cheese, slightly sweet bacon and a zesty sauce, all topped with a crisp onion ring.

My side of sweet potato fries ($5) is also crisp. How often have I ordered these and been served a soggy, unappetizing mess! This is a treat.

On the down side, the server forgets to provide the condiments. He also forgets to serve the beer ordered with the meal. But a reminder brings quick service and an apology.

At The Burger’s Priest — slogan: Redeeming the burger one at a time — I find myself perusing the English half of the scripture on the wall. It’s an excerpt from the Book of Daniel dealing with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. There’s also Hebrew script. The connection with burgers eludes me.

Maybe the fiery furnace? No, they use a griddle, not a charcoal fire.

The menu board is actually a hymn board, such as one might see in church. But instead of hymn numbers it features options like a bacon double cheeseburger; the California Classic (a cheeseburger with a ring of sautéed onions sangwiched — that`s really how they spell it — between two buttered buns and topped with secret sauce, shredded lettuce and tomato); and What’s Right (a double cheeseburger combo with chili cheese fries, cookie and drink — much of which would probably be Left if I ordered it).

There are only a few seats, and little space inside near the order counter, hence the legendary lineups out the door. But today there are only a few customers.

The beef at The Burger’s Priest is freshly ground several times daily. My choice is the High Priest: two beef patties, secret sauce, cheese, pickles, shredded lettuce on a non-sesame seed bun ($9.49). The only thing missing is the little tune that goes with McD’s version.

It comes wrapped in greaseproof paper, which does little to resist the grease. Even the brown paper bag is oily by the time I get from the collection counter to my table. My paper napkin is unequal to the task and the bun is quietly disintegrating from the onslaught. There’s juice and grease everywhere.

I want to take it home to avoid the public humiliation of trying to consume it here.

My first bite changes my mind. The bacon is essentially a slab of fat and the meat is so salty, I can’t possibly consume it here … or anywhere.

Now, I know there are those for whom this is going to be sacrilege, but my tastebuds are simply incapable of finding redemption in this much salt.

I ask the man next to me, happily consuming his Magnum (blue cheese and bacon), what he thinks.

“Yup, it’s very salty and greasy,” he acknowledges. “But that’s the point.”

Really?

Then he adds by way of asking absolution: “I only do this about once a month.”

Why?

Just for fun, go to the website where you’ll find a “secret menu” which rejoices in terrific names like Holy Smokes (double cheeseburger topped with panko-crusted deep-fried jalapenos); Noah’s Ark (veggie option with chili and cheese); or Religious Hypocrite (veggie with bacon!). You can’t fault the sense of humour here, though I’m stumped as to why this menu is a secret.

I don’t think I need to sum this one up. Star-studded or not, it’s only a burger. Mea maxima culpa.

The Burger’s Priest, three locations including 3397 Yonge St., 416-488-3510, [url=http://www.theburgerspriest.com]www.theburgerspriest.com[/url].

The Burger Cellar, 3391 Yonge St., 647-345-0084, [url=http://www.theburgercellar.com]www.theburgercellar.com[/url].