A burger is more than the sum of its parts: so is life
Life. It takes some turns, for sure. When I was first starting my career, I worked for an organization that – as it did then – no longer exists, the United Methodist Church.
I stalked Dennis Covington, who recently passed away in Texas, outside of his then UAB office to get this interview. And by the time it ended, neither of us was completely the same.
I share it now as a way of remembering that moment, as he passes to the next.
Continue reading “For a fellow traveler — Dennis Covington”
“Get extra of those big basil leaves for the burgers.”
That was the text I got on Monday. No explanation. There had been a build up to this moment, but it mostly involved a flashback to 8th grade (or at-any-state-in-life) and mentions of “bringing the meat.”
What happened next wasn’t really about your classic, even-COVID-infused cookout. It was about deception. Things not being what they might appear. Like the way people used to react to Houdini or David Copperfield or Waylon Flowers and Madam — with all the surprise of “no way!”
In this case, let me just say, “There’s no way that this ‘Salsa Verde’ burger is legit.”
Except it was. And it was legit enough that I’ve dusted off my keyboard and am writing about it for burger lovers who want to know.
But don’t force me to be the judge… You can be the judge (no really, you can pretend that the judge lines are yours):
Defense: Your honor, my client is on trial today simply because it was different. No more, no less. Not because it committed a crime. Not because it had some “impossible beef” with a touchy cow cuddler. No, it’s crime – if we can even call it that – was that in its cleverness and brilliance, it was… what it was.
Prosecution: Objection, your honor… on the grounds of, well, a burger doesn’t have free will. It’s not what it is. It’s what its maker creates it to…
Burger: As are we all, isn’t that right, your eminence?
Judge: Did you just call me your eminence?
Defense: I believe that was the burger, your honor. You see there? It’s kind of moving its bun up and down, in an uppy, downy way.
Burger: Your precious, all it ever wantsed was to run and jump like the other quarter-pounders. To wear its watermelon slice with pride. To be free, to sing…
Prosecution: Your honor, this thing is guilty of impersonatin’ an All-American, beef burger! And that, I believe, is clearly a crime, at least in the state of Texas. And if it ain’t a crime here, it should be.
Judge: Counsel, can we agree that America – the adopted home of the burger – is a great big old melting pot? Bring us your American, your Cheddar, your favorite sauces, yearning to make your palette happy.
Prosecution: Your honor, if we let them commie, progressives put fontina cheese and watermelon on a burger, where does the blasphemy end? Where does the madness end…?
[Fade to a vision of Atticus Finch defending the noble Salsa Verde…]
Evidently, the madness can end in your stomach, because this imposter burger is clever and a nice balance of flavors that look and play like a regular burger, but in the end, they are ingredients that few mortals dare to mix for a backyard cookout.
So, first and foremost, a shout out to Adam AlNaggar, local good guy who whipped this recipe out for a Labor Day cookout.
When you mix all these ingredients, it provides an interesting facsimile of a typical burger taste, but it’s mixed up enough to be weirdly surprising and interesting…
In this burger, other instruments in the symphony play different parts than you might expect. Watermelon looks like a tomato, but it also brings some of the sweet of ketchup. The salsa verde brings the fat/creaminess of the mayo. The basil brings the lettuce, and some of the zing of mustard.
And in all this posturing and trickery, the burger just does its thing – being tasty! A nice, comfortable role for the old hunk of seasoned hamburger.
Alas, there were no wandering vegetables in the neighborhood that wanted to be dressed up and presented as fries. But there were jalapeno poppers, and other deliciousness.
So, kudos. And more kudos, to Adam. A very fun and surprisingly effective take on the burger that both surprises and doesn’t let you down.
I’m not sure where to tell you to get your own version, but you can always give it a shot on your own. That would be the American – Salsa Verde it ain’t – way.
Several months ago now — which in some ways seems both shocking in length and no time at all — a group of poets I get together with monthly entered into the same time of quarantine that all of us did. Our gatherings had typically been at our leader’s — though his good nature and feigned curmudgeonness would reject that title. Let’s call him instead: The Organizer.
In April, COVID had moved our meetings to the inter webs. But The Organizer (Barry Marks) soon posed a challenge: write about the pandemic. So, many of us did.
What appears in our new anthology is a selection of poems (self-selected by the authors and our group). If you’re interested/curious/need a time killer/love poetry/need a subtle way to send me $10… here is the link to our new book, available via Amazon:
The Social Distance: Poetry in Response to COVID-19
What doesn’t there appear is the reams of other creative output and the sheer amazing breadth of artistic talent. It’s kind of like Led Zeppelin … or Prince … or your crazy Uncle Gaines, the one with the infinite *collection* spreading across his 20 acre compound…
So over the next few days and possibly weeks, I’ll be publishing (hopefully) some of the really amazing work of my colleagues in the Highland Avenue Eaters of Words, as well as some background on the works published and who we are…
Poem: On his first day of second grade by Mel Campbell
I wrote this poem immediately after returning from dropping off my youngest son for his first day of second grade. This was the first pandemic school day, complete with masks, temperature checks, and the most surreal of drops offs — for me and for what appeared to be most of my fellow parents. It’s also about the difficulties, sometimes, in understanding and identifying feelings and the blurred lines that separate them. The pic will also shed some light on mask in the first few lines…
Photos: Photos are courtesy Tom Gordon.
Those of you who subscribed to The Birmingham News, when papers were, well, primarily paper, may remember Tom. Journalist (there and at The Anniston Star), writer and editor. What you may not know about Tom is his serious sense of comedy timing, love of nature and his highly keen eye for seeing the poignant in what is anything but ordinary.
On his first day of second grade
By Mel Campbell
I couldn’t quite tell
if he was grinning.
His face covering almost
smiled back at me in it crooked,
kaleidoscope caterpillar artwork —
something he’d drawn before
he’d learned to read
or understand the
word, “pandemic.”
Boundaries between my
feelings blurred —
between pride and anxiety,
exhaustion and confidence…
I’m not sure I knew
where one feeling started
and another began.
I‘ve heard there’s a thin line,
Between love and hate.
What’s the line look like
between fear and sadness
or joy and revulsion?
Perhaps, there’s no line
at all.
Perhaps, like sputum
from this wretched illness,
fluid feelings mix, to form
a mass, unrecognizable
in its contents, yet
unmistakable in its
vivid, scarlet coloring
and to hippocamprian memories,
shocking in its
putrid smells.
And still, I placed the car in it’s
vein and waited to have him drawn
from my arms — like each parental corpuscle
dutifully trailing me – coagulating in
drop-off as we queued for
blessing from the white
sanctifying laser.
Light to attest to light.
And yet my flesh fears
that the blessed assurance
of =<99.5 degrees presents
peace and love in cozy strokes
of monochrome arithmetical artifice,
knowing that lines of any weight
cannot in full faith
bear the whole
uncomfortable,
colorful
truth.
I’m always on the lookout for hole-in-the-wall eateries – small, where you can see the cooks, and it’s just a small step away from eating in someone’s home. So, when I heard about the Basement Café at City Hall, it immediately jumped up on my list as a place I needed to visit.
I went looking for an undiscovered gem, ready to shine it up and show it off … and what I found was a gem – discovered – but just chillin’ in the basement at City Hall. A gem that has been around and whose owner has already made a name around town.
So, without getting into the whole story, The Basement Café is owned/operated – through an uncomplicated path of legal entities — by Kelli Caulfield, who has been recognized for her small business acumen (BBJ Top 40 under 40) and as an exemplary small business owner. She’s worked to bring a taste of New Orleans to the area for more than a decade, also being the brains and brawn behind NOLA Ice and a Cajun-inspired food truck, as well as running The Boxcar Café at Railroad Park for several years.
In January, she took over The Basement Café at City Hall.
Nothing in Birmingham is ever as simple as it seems … just traversing the spaghetti strands of one-way streets downtown, to paying a parking ticket, or the interconnections between people in what is really, still a small town. I write these things as more of a hand wave, to acknowledge that they are there, but not to dwell on them, here.
Instead, let’s talk about the food.
I went with a colleague at lunch (they also do breakfast). I had the burger meal, and he had a meat and three (which, if you don’t know what that is, it’s a southern term … typically, lunch fare – cafeteria-style – where you can choose a meat and then up to three sides. Don’t say veggies, because then, you’ll likely need to explain to someone how in this part of the world mac ‘n cheese, gravy or green bean casserole qualifies as a vegetable).
Parts of the meal were exceptional, and the parts that weren’t were still good.
Let’s start with what I didn’t order – the “meat and three.” On the plate, a fried pork chop, mac ‘n cheese, and other actual vegetables. WOW. The pork chop looked and tasted awesome, well-seasoned, not overcooked (a hallmark of cafeteria food), and juicy still. The mac ‘n cheese … I will not attempt to quote my friend but consider words like this:
At first, I thought the mac ‘n cheese was the weakest part… then I ate a few more bites. The combo – the saltiness of the fried pork chop and the hint of sweet in the macaroni … man, it’s good, very good.
I chose the hamburger meal, which includes a burger, their Cajun fries and a canned drink.
The burger was “good +.” I wouldn’t give it “great.” Definitely one of the best downtown, for a variety of reasons. The seasoning on the meat – which the cagey Caulfield refused to divulge – was similar to some of the “Black Seasoning Mixes” you can find (and in the neighborhood of blackened seasoning). Heavy on the peppery taste, but it worked well.
The burger was served with no condiments on Texas Toast, with the anticipated trimmings. I added KMM (ketchup, mustard, mayo).
The combo was nice, interesting and not like other burgers around the area. It’s a good change. I like Texas Toast and typically like it for a burger, especially when the bread is buttered and toasted.
The fries were exactly like I like them – shoestring-style, fried so expertly that every one of them suckers was crispy as a crispy thing. Not a limp biscuit in the bunch. And seasoned with Cajun seasoning.
Here’s the icing on the cake…
You can get a burger that is nearly as good as that one. Craft Burger is good. The Standard is good. Paramount is good … but none of them will get you out the door having paid as little as you will at The Basement.
Normally, cheapness is frowned upon in the culinary world, but I’m in the “consumer-y” world. And honestly, the cost is one reason I don’t run down to Paramount all the time for one of their pricier burgers.
At the Basement Café, I went crazy, Cajun Crazy… I had the meal deal … added cheese and got a cup of ice for my drink … and the whole bill was less than what just the burger costs at Paramount (no fries and no drink) … or The Standard (see my review) or Craft Burger (see my review).
Total cost at the Basement — $5 for the Hamburger Meal (with fries and a drink). Cheese costs $0.50.
And yes, for the apologists in the world, what the restaurants charge for food depends on their costs, and the costs for a place in the Municipal Building may be vastly different than someone renting at Pizitz … but facts is facts. And dollars are dollars. For the money, you can’t beat the burger at the Basement.
But … I’m still going back and getting my own damn pork chop next time!
I’ve worked in downtown Birmingham for more than 20 years now (and that is somewhat sobering to type). The truth is as much as the buildings stay the same and the players stay the same, things and people come and go.
Recently, my go-to meat and three in the Regions Harbert Plaza food court closed – Avery’s. Now, I lament the place’s demise less because the culinary world has lost a star than a default luncheon locale has been removed from my frequenting list. The food was fine, but I’ll leave it at that.
But it started me thinking about all the places I have frequented over that 20 years that are no longer around, within a reasonable walking distance. This list is less of an exhaustive list than it is likely a view into my own cognitive dissonance, of which I’ll also try and remember my most-eaten dish. But maybe you remember these or some of them …
Harbert Food Court
Avery’s – a fairly standard meat and three. The owners and workers were exceptionally nice, but the veggies were always overcooked. I had two entrees that were almost always on my list – Poppy Seed Chicken, with cabbage and butterbeans and the Beef Tips and rice. The place was open, under various different managements, pretty much since the building opened. I can stand corrected, but I believe it may have been a “Paw Paw Patch” of Homewood fame, when I first started eating there …
Taco Bell – In the late 1990s and early 2000s, there was a small, mall-sized Taco Bell in the Harbert Plaza. It was there in the heyday of running for the border, but the food there was consistently slightly more expensive than other Bells. My typical meal was either two regular tacos and a bean burrito or the taco salad. Since it seems a bit weird to wax poetic about Taco Bell, I’ll just say that I wish it was still there.
Zadens – This place was huge back in the day. They had the fries and burgers that put Zaden’s on the map. But they were not there long (for me). About the time that most of the Zaden’s in Birmingham began to close, this one did, too. Good food from a family that has provided good food and drinks in the city – and still does.
Milos – This one hurt. I don’t know about the ins and outs of this decision, but given what I’ve inferred over the years about the property owner management of the building, I could guess. But the result was Milos moved down the street to Southside, near UAB and left us with no secret sauce, seasoned fries. Milos tea … or hope for tomorrow. I really ate everything – burger, chicken fingers, grilled chicken, even a grilled cheese.
Ruscelli’s – Here for a bit; now gone to Lakeview to provide food at Mojo. I always went into some fidgety, gluten shock from their pizza. But I was a fan of a salad they had, Jill’s salad, I believe — lettuce, grilled chicken, bacon, jalapenos, and honey mustard. But I hardly knew ya…
Golden Rule BBQ – This one also hurt. There’s history with this one, but also an end that seems oddly familiar … rumors of rent disputes, and a business that has succeeded elsewhere. The Golden Rule was not REALLY a bbq place; they had ingredients/meat trucked in (daily, I think). But they, too, had some of the nicest, friendliest people working there. I was a fan of the chicken, bacon, ranch wrap. I still miss it. I’d also occasionally do one of the ridiculously large baked potatoes.
Luna Grill – I don’t consider Taco Bell Tex-Mex; I’m not really sure what you should consider it … except awesome … after several drinks. But tempting fate, a Mexican place opened in the space previously belonging to Taco Bell, and met the same fate, later. I believe it shared ownership and kitchen space with Avery’s. The food was good enough, but it did get blackballed by a co-worker whose standards were much higher than mine. I usually got their chicken nachos (I always get nachos). But equally, it had — at the time — the best burger in the building … and that’s worth noting just on its own.
Places I didn’t visit but are still gone now … Smoothie King, popsicle place, an Italian place that lasted mere minutes seemingly…
Part of the issue, recently, was likely that the building management sold a bill of upgraded goods that look equally parts pie in the sky and pricey for mom and pop places. It’s ironic that the link to info on the existing space (on the page) wasn’t operable when I visited it.
Other places close by …
McDonalds – Where Jimmy John is now (corner of 4th and 20th) once stood one of the trippy, 70s/80s McDonalds. Plastic seats, high backs on everything and inside an existing building. It wasn’t a large one, but it was there. Think Hamburgler and Mayor McCheese greeting you at the door. BTW – I’m a Big Mac and fries guys.
Burger King – At the old bus station (not the really old one), but the one on 19th St. Inside, there was a free-standing Burger King. It shut down more than 15 years ago … and going there was always part of the surreal trip to weirdness that going to that bus station always was.
A host of Mexican Places – in the old McDonalds, on 1st Ave next to the defunct Christian Science Reading room. For the most part, until recent years, a restaurant that traditionally relied on evening sales and liquor was doomed. But props go to El Barrio (and the guys that run it that know about being successful in the business). Hardly knew you Mazatlán and “can’t even remember your name” place.
G’s and Continental Bakery – These two tried to make it in the designated restaurant spot at one Federal Place (not the spot occupied by Zoë’s). Both by renown owners. G’s was very good, as was Continental Bakery, but sometimes, I feel that certain spaces downtown have bad juju … this spot has it.
LaParee – Kind of like the old John’s… a nicer lunch spot on 5th Ave. I was not a frequenter, but I do remember going and getting the “treatment” … huge menus, old guys in ties, lots of seriousness and meat and veggies.
All the hot dog places – Pete’s Famous, which closed after Gus (yes, the last owner’s name was Gus … his uncle was the original Pete) died in 2011. An iconic place, hole in the wall. Gus was cranky and beloved. Also Lyric Hot Dogs. Tony’s Terrific and Jimmy’s. Only Gus’ remains, and it’s not owned by Gus, and wasn’t even when “George” ran it. All of these are part of the rich Greek food history in Birmingham, and how hot dogs fed rich and poor in the city for decades.
Cameo Cafe … On 5th Ave. between 20th and 21st. Miami Cafe is there now (good Cuban fare). But before, this was a cutesy, salady place that had the best chicken salad I have ever put in my mouth. Creamy and with a kick – with some crunch. Can you remember the ingredients and nature of any chicken salad in your life? Enuf said …
Surin West – I love Surin and Thai food, and miss the closeness of Chicken Masaman and sushi. They were in the space in the old Colonial Bank building, near the YMCA. Many a long lunch was held there … and one of the few places that serve adult beverages during the day … not that I would know anything about that…
The coffee shop across the street (where Subway is now) – They had awesome coffee in a nice, quiet, quaint setting. I loved working there and sipping a cup. Plus, I was convinced that the manager there was the reincarnation of Pete/Gus … he was disinterested in you, hardly paid attention to anyone, and seemed generally checked out … which might explain the presence of Subway in that space now!
The Purple Onion – It was on the corner of 3rd and 19th in the coolest art deco building. But it closed when the Pita Stop opened nearby. This is where I developed a love for Chicken-in-a-sack, and fried pita chips.
Oh, there are others and like I stated at the start, this is my list of what I recall and care to report on… But maybe you have memories.
I just heard a new one – before my time – of when the Pioneer Cafeteria was in the ground floor of the Regions Center/SONAT building … and a wedding reception was held there. Hard to imagine now, in the sea of conference rooms and vending machines…
But while times change, people are always hungry for something good for lunch.
It’s a big commitment, you know, stating what’s THE best or The Superlative of anything. With a burger, I doubt that I’ll ever say what is definitely THE best, because that’s a mighty serious weight to bear. I have my favorites, and without a doubt, one of my favorites, right now, is also one of THE best you can find in Birmingham – Fancy’s on Fifth.
Part of the Avondale/41st Street revival (a good overview in this link), Fancy’s was part of the second generation of restaurants that opened in the historic neighborhood of Avondale. The name is taken from the most famous resident of the park that sits across the street from the reclaimed building – the elephant, Miss Fancy, who was a resident at Avondale Park, when the predecessor to the Birmingham Zoo was also there.
It was also one of the second generation of concept locales by Birmingham entrepreneur Padget Pizitz; she and Harriet Reis opened Melt, which sits across 41st Street from Fancy’s.
People will go to Fancy’s for a lot of reasons – they have unique sides and sauces; the oysters (if that’s your gig) are good (I hear… not an oyster guy); and the atmosphere is fun, with a big porch and music.
But if you were just doing analysis on what you see on the menu (normally), you’d think you were in a burger place. Burgers are always on the menu, even when other items take the stage.
When I went recently (and the photo included here), I opted for the plain “Blue Collar Burger.” It’s two patties, American cheese, with the expected sides and a side of smoked mayo.
Like Samuel L. Jackson’s Jules, what makes it special: “the little differences…”
The pickles, for example, blew my pickle-loving youngest son, Charlie, away. He will eat jars of pickles (if unsupervised), and begged for more after I gave him a taste. The quote was something to the effect of: “Don’t eat those pickles; they’re a death wish.”
Which I interpreted as: “I want to eat all your pickles. Pull them off your burger, and let me save you from the peril.”
And the smoked mayo – Yes, I dipped my fries in that sh*t.
The burgers were cooked exactly like I asked, and were crispy on the outside, slightly. They also constructed the burger how they wanted – with the onion, lettuce and other stuff already on awaiting my consumption.
It’s not complicated; it’s blue collar. But it’s done expertly. And I haven’t even bothered to mention the fries. They were not of the frozen variety and were crispy, not a limp fry in the bunch. I couldn’t help myself. I ate everyone one of them before I turned to my burger-prize.
So, what I’m telling you, friends, is Fancy’s plain, Jane Chevy Cobalt of a burger is one of THE best burgers I’ve had in the city … but the menu also features:
They also tout that their meat is an in-house blend – brisket, short rib and chuck.
So, if you’re looking for adventure or just want to good, reliable burger, Fancy’s is a safe bet … because instead of elephants, their burgers are on parade.
Some of you know that I’ve been working on poetry and original poems for the last year. I hadn’t written much poetry for at least the last decade, focusing more on blogging and starting (and putting aside) various short stories and longer stories.
Last year, I was introduced to a group of men who also appreciate writing and poetry. We have a couple names, but none of them really do justice to the excellence, good feedback and general encouragement that comes from being a part of this group.
Since that time, I’ve authored and been working on several poems. For me, they are always in progress. I’m not sure the any artist ever completely finishes tinkering with something they’ve made.
I’ve kept these pieces close to my vest; and I have to admit that sharing these is a bit scarier than I expected. I’ve thought about doing this for many months, but reasons not to are strangely easy to find and persistent. Except, now I’m going to.
For the one below, I drew inspiration from the beautiful drive down Highway 431 headed from the top of Sand Mountain into Guntersville. The first draft was completed in advance of a retreat, on Gorham’s Bluff, near Pisgah.
I’ve taken license with some of the details, but I’m a writer. Why not?
If you have comments, please feel free to leave them here, or email me.
The Patient Mountain
The gray cinder-block Bucket of Blood clenches still Sand Mountain’s sleek side.
Muzzled by withered remembrance.
Driving up to it was curvy and treacherous, like those who frequented the place.
The milieu of miscreants.
(But it’s not like the creants had somewhere better to go.)
Knives and knuckles were the bloody economy
Of a honky-tonk lubricated by beer, dancing and electrified loins.
And in its day, the occasional teen would drive drunkenly off the hill
Marking the mountain with limbs and harsh lessons;
Unwelcome drips from the bucket – venous and heinous –
That moved morality to rescuing redemption.
“No more fights. No more crashes, and senseless deaths,”
They shouted, pointing ignorant, poor youths to Jesus, not Schlitz
While John Law cracked down on bootleggers, indecency and white trash.
When I was a kid, a silver Mac truck careened out of control
Down a slippery mountain Highway 431,
Another treacherous road heading to Guntersville.
Its driver was going too fast and couldn’t stop in time;
There were few identifiable pieces left of either the Chevy Chevette
or its driver, after the truck pulverized it at the red light
dangerously close to the foot of Sand Mountain.
There was nothing to do except clean the mess
And point fingers at a tired, underpaid portly man who popped pills to feed his family.
The reds didn’t press an accelerator, but blame accelerated anyway.
Instead of paying truckers a living wage, they took that one’s livelihood…
And built a runaway ramp – a pit of pebbles and safety
To catch big rigs barreling down the mountain decline.
And threw that stop light into a deep part of Guntersville Lake,
While encouraging John Law to pass out citations to hasty, unfamiliar rulebreakers.
Today, grass grows among the pebbles of the tire-marked ramp
And the light’s back, as are more lights and more cars and more businesses and people.
And the bucket is there – unused — with cold, legal Schlitz available nearby, tax and all,
While John Law busts speeders and drug users and bootleggers and kids up to no good,
As the mountainside remains — patiently abiding our ascents and descents.
Here are a couple of lines that strike a unique sense of skepticism into people’s hearts: “It looks like a beautiful days for pulling weeds” or “Would you mind if I tidied my room?” or even, “Has there ever been a prettier day to clean these gutters?”
When my kids suggest we do something that they might otherwise never do, you wonder. Since our first trip to Back Forty Beer in Birmingham, the family has tried no fewer than three times to go back already. Because of the beer? No. Because of the food? Not specifically.
But as a parent, there is the tiniest bit of weird feeling when my pre-18 (or 21) year old children suggest we go back to the craft beer place, which caused me to question what they put in their food. But the honest truth is they’ve asked to go back because hanging out there was just so dang much fun.
The Back Forty Brewing in Birmingham, an offshoot of the original Back Forty that started in Gadsden, Alabama, is located on the edge of the Pepper Place entertainment district, and across the street from historic Sloss Furnace. Back Forty Beer is good, and even before they opened in Bham, I was a fan. I like the Naked Pig Pale and the Truck Stop Honey.
As an aside, it’s worth noting what an amazing change has taken place in this little piece of Hamiana in just a decade. The addition of IMS (and their expansion) and the growth/revitalization of Avondale is a sight to see.
But I digress; the difference between Back Forty and many of the original craft breweries in town is the presence of food. Avondale, Good People, Trim Tab and Cahaba, don’t (unless you count food trucks and/or special occasions). Lots of reasons for this.
Back Forty, on the other hand, has good gastro-pub fare to pare with an extensive beer selection. And while I’ll get to the burger review here shortly, let’s hit on what makes them different — the combo, that you can get good beer, good food and in a family-friendly environment (not on a special occasion or from a separate restaurant or when the food trucks show up). You could make the case that this is unusual for a brewery, which it might be. But the bigger point, to me, is that it actually exists. A family-friendly beer garden.
Which is why the family keeps wanting to go back … other that the fact that dad is in such a better mood when the beer is cold, food excellent, and everyone is happy.
As for the burgers, they are top notch. They are not the best in the city, but that’s a seriously high bar. They are — no question at this point — the best burger in the Pepper Place area. And if you expand to Avondale … they can certainly rival the burger at Melt and give the one at Fancy’s on Fifth a run for its money.
The Back 40 Cheeseburger was my choice, and the others that showed up at our table included the Kid Cheeseburger and a grilled Lamb Burger.
I appreciated the cooked to order meat and the toasted bun (outside). They have a house aioli that is pretty darn tasty, but I shake my head at the need to have an aioli … and not just call it some special saucy name. But it is where it is in the culinary world, and thus we need us some frou frou …
The onions … I know … but lordy, they were louder than that one woman in church who wants everyone else to know how good she can sing. Except these onion left more than ringing in the ear. But I looked past the onion, after the deliciousness of beer number two.
The fries were nice and crispy, and I like to have actual fries, not chips or whatever is cheaper. These are good and I’m not sure if they are fresh cut or not, which leads me to think they are likely fresh (since frozen has a very recognizable taste to them). Nice shoestring size. I ate more than the ones that came to me… I’m a dad (and paying), I’m entitled to food samples :).
All of these criticisms are small, because the combo they produce in the burger is good, fresh and intentional. It’s a better-than-good effort.
I will add one oddity — a cautionary tale about the lamb — for whatever reason one of the staff suggested the lamb burger be cooked medium. Lamb — especially ground lamb — should typically be cooked to a higher temperature than ground beef. So since ground lamb’s coloration is different than beef, the undercooked kind can appear even less … dunner. It might have been a good menu choice (and sounds delicious), but the appearance in the undercooked version was not appetizing. But I’d try it again, just cooked more.
But … and this is the big but and I cannot lie … The food is well thought-out and generally very good. When you pair the food with the drinks and the corn hole, foosball, ping pong and lots of other stuff … it’s good clean family-friendly fun.
And we will go back (forty).
I’m adding a piece of friendly advice with this column; don’t write on an empty stomach. I say this because I’m staring at the images I took of the burger and fries from Full Moon BBQ in Birmingham (the original). And if I let my stomach write this, the review would be as glowing as this one for Olive Garden.
So, maybe I should cut to the chase: it’s a good+ burger. Not the best downtown – Drake’s Court House holds that spot currently – but it’s got a lot going for it.
Like reminding me that I skipped lunch, and how delicious it would be…
A quick side track: size matters, and probably not in the way your one-track mind assumes. A lunch-time burger doesn’t need to be a massive, gut-expanding, gotta-visit-the-confessional platter. It’s a lunch burger. Some places try to woo you with a Frisbee with meat on it, when a reasonable burger, done right is best. Plus, who wants to spend the afternoon in a ROLAIDS/greasy coma?
Full Moon BBQ is one of the older barbeque standards in Birmingham. Its roots are so Alabama that it probably appears reflexively in Fred Hunter’s dreams.
It started in the early 1980s, opened by a Bear Bryant protégé and Alabama assistant coach, Pat James, who opened the original Southside location with his wife. They sold the business in 1997 to brothers Joe and David Maluff, who kept the recipes (including the chow-chow and awesome Half Moon cookies). The Maluff’s have grown the business and locations – nice and slow like any good barbeque should be – and today, there are more than a dozen locations across Alabama.
As for their burger, the good news is that is almost exactly like their BBQ sandwich. It comes with onions, pickles and chow-chow (cheese is optional … for $0.50). The meat is good, fresh, and they cook it on a hot griddle, where it gets seared to crispy, crunchy goodness. When I had mine, it gave me a flash back to eating burgers at home as a kid – where the meat was seared in an iron skillet.
It has a distinctive taste, something nostalgic for me.
The fries are fine, but nothing exceptional. The consistent taste that it shares with other of its fry friends leads me to believe that that their recent history is closer to a freezer than soil. Honestly, like many barbeque joints, they put their energy toward sides and dessert. Oh, I’ll eat the cookies there, too. But I don’t want to gush about them; they are tasty and half-covered in chocolate (I write in ungushy terms).
Like most barbeque places, the burger at Full Moon is good+ – Full Moon, Saws, Jim and Nicks, Bob Sykes … I could go on. They know meat, and they know what it takes to make it taste delectable – freshness, controlled heat and attention to detail.
Bottom line: if you are craving a burger and are near Full Moon, theirs will suffice nicely. But it is, at its core, a barbecue place, where that side of the menu (the largest side, btw), is dominated by the cue and the friends it keeps around. It isn’t the best thing on the menu, but it shouldn’t be… but it’s also hardly the worst.
Solid burger. Not gonna let you down, but not one of the best.
And that picture that started all this is still staring up at me… so I’m sparing you the pain … and enjoying it all myself 😁.
It’s hard to equivocate ambivalence. Is my wishy-washy opinion equal to another wishy-washy opinion? Sometimes? You see, I’d been holding back, restraining myself for only reasons that the universe could explain, from visiting a near-work burger place — Craft Burger.
It’s a place that claims to eschew “precious.” It’s claims an “honest burger.” An honest $7 burger… not counting bacon = a $13 combo (drink and fries).
A burger can be worth $13 bucks, but in the world of burger competition — and especially if you’re gonna put the words “burger” in your name — you have be worth the money you ask people to spend.
Craft Burger — the downtown location (there is an original Craft Burger on Highway 280 corridor) — struggles in my mind to be good enough to make much of an impression. When you combine the fact that it sells itself as a burger place (and hot dogs) and then charges on the high end for a burger … that’s probably not the type of attention and craftiness you were searching for.
Look, the food there is not bad; it’s just that the food competition downtown in Birmingham now is fierce. From new places at Pizitz Food Hall, to old standards, to newer places like Paramount and more… you can’t go weak to the palette. You can’t even go kind of weak… Strong or not at all. And be worth what you charge or you’ll go the way of Brava (a now-gone place in the old Craft Burger location) or G’s.
I’ll admit that the burger is okay and the fries are okay. But it’s less impressive than it could be and more disappointing than is good for its future. I ordered the Craft Burger — it comes on a brioche-type bun, with two patties, onions, pickles and Craft Sauce. I added regular fries, though my lunch companions opted for the seasoned version. The fries are supposed to be a selling point, and perhaps something other than the plain ones are. But I’m not particularly a fan of the overseasoned, freshly-grated parmesan and trumpet-blast herbs that are being used there and in other burger places. How about — potatoes, fresh cut, soaked, and fried in peanut (or allergy-sensitive) oil?
But what I can’t get over is the “crafty” way that I remember it now — as an onion-overwhelmed, decent burger. I cannot express in English words the overpowering nature of the onions that were on that crafty old sandwich. Except that days later, I could still recall the taste.
Kind of like the song … “She’s Crafty” by the Beastie Boys. Not one of their best, probably, and a puerile and silly and misogynistic as a goofy rap song can get.
I’m a sucker for the Beastie Boys, and had almost forgot about the song “She’s Crafty,” from their record-breaking Licensed to Ill — a soundtrack of my youth. It’s a song that gets lost in some more highly-rotated cuts from that album — like Fight for Your Right, or Paul Revere or even Brass Monkey. But writing this review reminded me of it.
So off to YouTubes I went. Only to be reminded secondarily, that L2I was created in the heyday of rap-theft. The very first riff in the song is a complete lifting of the opening riff of Led Zepplin’s The Ocean:
So, if nothing, the Craft Burger took me to a place where I remembered something … about the Beastie Boys and Led Zepplin (I spent about 10 minutes trying to figure out the song just from the first five notes).
So, yes, the Craft Burger is fine. It will meet your burger need … but there is probably something more interesting if you craftily dig a little deeper in the well, boys.
Beautimousburger 