I’m a fan of classic burgers, of sandwiches you can eat without making a mess, and of a certain simplicity that combines potent flavors and lets them be heard. Sandwiches are built on pushing together contrasting, even clashing flavors. Keep strong flavors simple and clean.
Construction is crucial—just as important as flavor in a sandwich. Sandwiches need to be able to be cut in half (burgers you can, but I think they’re better when eaten whole), picked up, and bitten into without tearing. Any sandwich that falls apart is, to me, not successful.
Textures are like flavors—contrast is good. Think about the sensation of biting into a burger. In one smooth motion, your teeth encounter soft-spongy bun, crisp lettuce, pillowy tomato, crunchy pickles and onions, creamy melted cheese, and warm, dense beef. Now that’s complexity.
Listed below are all the considerations and techniques that go into a making a superior burger. After that we get into the specific recipes for our acclaimed burgers and other sandwiches.
The cost of hamburgers in America is on the rise, and one of the reasons for this, besides a general uptick in the price of beef, is that people are putting short rib and brisket and all sorts of special cuts into their burger meat. That’s all well and good, but for me, the integral flavor comes from ground sirloin.
I’m sure most of you will not be grinding your own beef, but I encourage you to do so. You’ll be thrilled with the clarity of the flavors and the gracefulness with which it cooks. The best blend for ground beef is 80/20, meat to fat. Trust me, I’ve done the experimentation. At 70/30, the fat drops out and the patty gets grainy. The ratio of 75/25, meat to fat, works, but 80/20 has better flavor and structure. It’s quite simple. Use sirloin beef and straight beef fat. Grind them together at 80/20 and you have the world’s best burger meat.
The right amount of meat is 5 ounces. Weigh it out. Too big a patty destabilizes the burger and makes it too meaty. Too small a patty and you only taste condiments, not meat. Five ounces is the perfect amount, right in the middle.
Form the patty in your hands. It’s no different from Play-Doh in school. Smash it. Work it pretty hard, but do it quickly, as you don’t want fat melting all over your hands. Don’t worry about compacting it too much. Use your whole hand: palm and fingers. Make sure that the circumference is clean and smooth, as you don’t want end crumbs cooking and falling off. The burger will shrink and buckle when it starts cooking, so the integrity of the patty needs to be solid.
The bun is of utmost importance! The two crucial aspects are that the bun needs to be durable enough to hold the burger together when you pick it up to eat it, and it has to be something that’s absorbent and spongy, but not so much that it gets soggy and soaked. We use a potato bun that we purchase from a local bakery. Be on the lookout for good buns in your area, and when you find the one, be loyal to that brand.
Let me get this out of the way quickly: Don’t cook burgers on the open-fire grill. No matter how iconic the imagery of Dad flipping burgers on the Weber out by the pool, the fact is that burgers both cook and taste much better when seared in a pan. We don’t use the grill because the rendering fat inevitably causes flames to leap up and char the burger, giving it a lightly burned exterior and drying out the meat. At the restaurant, we use a plancha or griddle, but at home, use a cast-iron or blue steel pan to perfectly cook a patty without giving up all the juices. Want to cook burgers outside? That’s why you have a cassette burner.
Start out with a really hot pan. Rub the patty on both sides with a little softened butter—this isn’t for flavoring, but to kick-start the browning process. Then dust one side with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.
Add a dash of vegetable oil to the hot pan and let it heat for a few seconds before dumping out the oil—this cleans the pan, lubricates it, and moderates its temperature. Now add a touch more oil and place the burger in the smoking-hot pan, seasoned-side down. Now season the other side with salt and pepper.
It’s extremely important to develop a crust on the outside of the burger, which is why we use the pan. The well-browned exterior allows the burger to develop deep flavor and a toothsome texture. Treat the hamburger just like you would a steak. If there’s time, don’t be afraid to poêlé with the liquid fat in the pan (see here) to get a little bit of the butter and beef fat back onto the burger.
If you’re adding cheese, do it just as the burger has finished cooking. Turn off the burner, layer the cheese on top, and cover the pan to conserve the ambient heat. The cheese will melt as the meat stops cooking.
With your lightly toasted or griddled bun, simply place the meat on the bottom bun. We don’t butter the bread or add any condiments. That we leave up to the diner. Make sure everything fits neatly—if you’re using lettuce or tomatoes, try to not let them extend beyond the span of the bun. Few things look worse than a sloppily built burger.
We keep the burger very simple. But we have a couple of options that are meaningful to me on a personal level. These are untouchable, classic burgers that also have soul. Within their construction they contain powerful references to people and times that I won’t soon forget.*