A far cry from a mere brick of beef on a bun, Bobby’s offers a gourmet take on the cheeseburger, but all of their decorative trappings make the burgers seem a little forced.
What makes the perfect burger? A heap of ground beef. Cheese. A bun. Lettuce, tomato. Maybe bacon. Simple enough. But the humble cheeseburger has undergone a bit of a culinary renaissance in recent years, and celebrity chefs such as Bobby Flay and Guy Fieri have helped move the sandwich from a greasy fast-food staple into the realm of haute cuisine.
College Park is home to a bevy of burger joints that range from sketchy to stuffy. With that in mind, I set off on a trek down Route 1 to find the best burgers that College Park has to offer.
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Bobby’s Burger Palace, the brainchild of Food Network personality Bobby Flay, opened its glass-plated art deco doors just more than a year ago. Located on the ground floor of The Varsity (near Royal Farms and ChiDogO’s), the Palace is certainly on the upscale side: Bright orange decor and artsy pictures of fresh food adorn the walls; the seating is cafeteria style (trendy!) and the fast casual prices are pretty steep for the average college budget. Most burgers will set you back $7-8, without adding fries or a drink.
With the upscale attitude comes an upscale burger. A far cry from a mere brick of beef on a bun, Bobby’s offers a gourmet take on the cheeseburger. The city-themed burgers — available as angus beef or ground turkey — come smothered in toppings. The Dallas Burger is a delicious mess of spices, coleslaw, barbecue sauce, cheese and pickles. Basically a Cuban sandwich with beef, the Miami Burger is similarly overloaded with pickles, ham and Swiss cheese. To add to the glorious disarray atop your meat, you can also “crunchify” any burger — that is, add potato chips to it — for no extra charge.
Though undeniably tasty, all of their decorative trappings make the burgers at Bobby’s seem a little forced. Sometimes, simple is better, and simple is certainly cheaper. Besides crunchifying (Crunchification? Crunchifixion?) and a few house-made sauces available tableside, the options for customization are limited. For all its gourmet charms and showy excess, Bobby’s loses some of the greasy, one-of-a-kind pleasure that comes with the very best burgers. The sandwiches are a work of art, but they lack soul.
But Bobby’s does offer spiked milkshakes for just $5. Well played, Mr. Flay.
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Farther down Route 1, nestled in a strip directly across from the campus, lies a red-and-white tiled burger mecca. Five Guys Burgers and Fries, which started in the Washington area in 1986, has become one of the fastest-growing chains in the country, with more than 1,000 locations nationwide.
The longtime local favorite keeps growing because of its consistency, and the College Park location is no different. You know what you’re going to get at Five Guys: a box full of peanuts, efficient employees in shockingly red uniforms, an overflowing cup of well-seasoned, boardwalk-friendly fries and a damn good burger.
In contrast to the fixed menu at Bobby’s, Five Guys offers a wide array of toppings for individual customization, from staples such as lettuce and pickles to grilled onions and mushrooms. A standard burger comes with two patties; a “little” burger comes with one. Either way, the burger comes wrapped in foil and a greasy brown paper bag, like a cholesterol-raising Christmas present.
And what a present it is. Juicy and perfectly cooked with just the right ratio of toppings (and, in a particularly inspired move, burgers are topped with diced bacon, rather than whole strips, so there are bacon bits in every bite — every restaurant in America could learn from this), the Five Guys burger is a classic example of the form. Unpretentious and utterly unwholesome, it is a lovingly hand-crafted take on the textbook all-American burger.
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Prepare to get meat drunk.
A haven for bleary-eyed late-night revelers and grizzled townies alike, Plato’s Diner is another American staple: The seemingly always-open diner has been serving up breakfast and hangover-cure classics alongside more traditional Greek fare since the far-off days of 1994.
The diner’s signature burger, the Hellenic Delight, rests comfortably between these two worlds. Billed as “Employee’s All-time Favorite” (But which employee? And when? Plato’s teases, but the cryptic menu ultimately leaves us in the dark.), and for good reason, the Hellenic Delight is a huge slab of ground beef and Greek seasonings, topped with a mound of feta, mozzarella and parmesan cheeses and served on crusty French bread, rather than a traditional burger roll.
The kind of hefty burger favored by manly men and the very drunk, the Hellenic Delight is huge and, at first, a little intimidating; after a few bites, though, it starts to go down like smooth bourbon. As Parks and Recreation’s Ron Swanson once said, “It’s a hamburger, made out of meat, on a bun with nothing. Add ketchup if you want; I couldn’t care less.”
The Hellenic Delight is the kind of burger that deserves a place on the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness. Though it eschews some standard burger conventions (no sesame seed bun, for instance) the sandwich is refreshingly simple. Like the green polyester booths of Plato’s itself, the Hellenic Delight is unfussy and straightforward. It’s just meat, cheese and really good bread (and adding just a bit of ketchup really does set the whole thing off).
Like Plato’s other offerings — including an equally old-fashioned (and fantastic) patty melt (topped with grilled onions and Thousand Island dressing and served on grilled rye bread) and a less successful “Red Hot & Bleu” burger (spices, bacon, and bleu cheese) — the Delight will run you about $8 and comes with fries, fixings and a pickle.
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For those unwilling to fork over the cash or who still rely on meal plans, there are always on-campus options. One needn’t go all the way to Route 1 to satisfy a late-night meat and cheese craving. And though they lack the sophistication of their off-campus brethren, the university’s burger options will certainly do in a pinch.
Global Gourmet in the North Campus Dining Hall offers a reliable, if workmanlike, burger. Though you can’t dictate how you’d like your patty cooked (the only options seem to be “well-done” and “even more well-done”), the station comes with an array of unique toppings, including chili, guacamole, and fried Tabasco onions. Service is quick, if harried.
If you can look past the overdone meat, the station offers a perfectly serviceable burger with a few shining spots: The sesame seed bun is nice and buttery; the applewood-smoked bacon is a few notches above what’s available at other spots, and the sauces — including barbecue and Kentucky bourbon — are tasty without being overpowering, and guacamole is always good.
Though it lacks the upscale panache of Bobby’s or the rustic simplicity of Plato’s, Global Gourmet still satisfies. There’s a reason a cheeseburger appears on seemingly every menu in America, after all. Ground meat, cheese and toppings: It’s a hard combination to screw up.
At the same time, it’s a deeply simple, yet almost spiritual combination, universal yet incredibly personal, classic yet always fresh. There’s nothing like a good burger to keep hunger at bay, and College Park is bursting with enough options, from gourmet to guilty pleasure, to keep any serious meat-lover satiated.
