Open-minded

Skip ketchup and mustard. A world of different condiments can make the burger.

by

When it comes to “best burger” roundups, the winners are usually simple affairs. George Motz, author of Hamburger America and perhaps the United States’ foremost expert in burgers, has selected the cheeseburger at Joe Rouer’s bar in Luxembourg, Wisconsin, as the best burger in the Badger State, and it is typical of Motz’s preferences: “a refreshingly simple cheeseburger that actually explodes with beefy flavor. That’s thanks to the absence of silly condiments and a patty that is cooked in a sort of beef stock and its own rendered beef fat.” In his article “The United States of Burgers: The Best Burgers From Each of the 50 States” Motz generally eschews any frou-frou add-ons in favor of well-seasoned griddles.

For a hamburger purist like Motz, finding a throwback joint that steams its burgers on a “stovetop steaming contraption” is great. But looking at the rise of build-your-own-burger places like Point Burger Bar and specialty burger restaurants like DLUX, it seems that “silly condiments” are on the rise — and not so silly after all.

I’ve never cared for the standard burger condiments of ketchup and mustard — to me they spar with the meat flavor instead of enhancing it. And I’m not sure who came up with the notion that ketchup and mustard in any way go with each other. I realize that these days, this sentiment may be grounds for deportation, but I think that my early iconoclasm on this front has made me more open-minded to different kinds of condiments.

Longtable Beer Cafe has a rotating special it calls the Community Burger, which highlights local ingredients (a dollar from each sale benefits a local cause). Right now, and sticking around for about another month, is a condiment-happy special featuring Highland Spring Farm grass-fed beef, a layer of potent chopped sausage from Straight Forward Farm, smoked gouda from Roth and a green chile goddess dressing all captured between a Madison Sourdough brioche bun. Surprisingly, it’s not messy, as some laden burgers can be. It’s neat, and peppery. The sausage layer — called a “hash” — stands out the most with its spiciness.

As a kid, I actually hated hamburgers. The one exception was the pizza burger served at The Arbor Dell, a long-gone Wisconsin tavern on Lake Ripley. There they stuffed mozzarella inside the patty. The Laurel Tavern has a pizza burger, but it wears its Italian garb outside the patty. Good for a trip down memory lane.

The old AJ Bombers downtown introduced me to the beauty of peanut butter as a burger condiment. It’s gone too, but you can make up something even better from the BYO selections at Point Burger Bar. Pick your patty and have them add peanut butter, bacon and sweet bourbon bacon jam.

When we were undergraduates, my friend Becky Harth and I used to go to The Flamingo (now City Bar) and order something called the California burger, which as I recall came loaded with slices of avocado and topped with sprouts. It’s hard to find sprouts on anyone’s menu these days — including Point Burger Bar’s — but check off toppings of avocado, green peppercorn mayo and arugula for a trip back to the time when this signified “health food.” Maybe you could smuggle in your own sprouts.

Shove aside nostalgia for this more contemporary combo of condiments that can be found widely in the Madison area, with slight variations. It starts with blue cheese, adds a sweet-tart onion layer, and vegges it up with peppery arugula. Excellent versions can be found at DLUX (with a port wine/onion marmalade), Mickey’s Tavern (“The Deluxe,” with caramelized onion), and Gates & Brovi (“The Giovanni” with Cates Family Farm beef, taleggio cheese and caramelized balsamic red onions). A close relative is Alchemy’s Zaremba, with a green olive tapenade and gorgonzola dressing changing it up, along with swiss cheese, tomato and bacon layers. Try it with the Nature’s Bakery tofu walnut patty.

Some prefer condiments that bring a little heat. The Weary Traveler Freehouse has outdone itself with the longtime favorite dubbed Bob’s Bad Breath Burger, topped with caramelized onions, garlic and Pickapeppa sauce.

Cajun-style heat is natural for a burger, yet it is not often seen in these parts. Head to Dexter’s for its blackened burger patty, with Louisiana touches: pickles and remoulade, plus swiss cheese, lettuce and tomato.

Dotty Dumpling’s Dowry has the aptly-named Some Like it Hot, which layers on the heat with local Dashelito’s hot sauce, pepper jack cheese, a chipotle ranch dressing and salty/hot giardiniera vying with the hint of sweetness from tangy housemade onion jam. A sweet-hot sensation. This one’s messy, but the staff brings lots of napkins without your even having to ask. Dotty’s has plenty of build-your-own options, too. Try horseradish with haystack onions.

All the restaurants will substitute a veggie (and usually vegan) patty for beef.