Surveying Seattle's Burger Shack Renaissance

Photo courtesy our Flickr pool's zenobia_joy

In the 1960s and '70s, Seattle earned a reputation as a top-notch burger haven. Burger shacks like Turbulent Turtle and Red Robin served up burgers with a dizzying mix of embellishments, and Dick’s Drive-In and Daly’s cooked up an honest, tasty lunch at prices everyone enjoyed.

Sadly, that first generation of patty pioneers now lies moldering in redeveloped graves. A few years ago, Daly’s closed to make way for an Eastlake development that has been stalled by the economy. It’s now just a vacant lot. Earlier this year, the original Red Robin on Eastlake closed, the last link to a glorious past for what is now, basically, a mall-only restaurant. Only Dick’s remains, still serving the best burgers for the dollar in the city.

Thankfully, Seattle is in the midst of a burger shack renaissance and The SunBreak Lunch Team (not just for breakfast anymore!) has spent the past few weeks scouting out the new players.

iBurger and Shake (8000 Lake City Way N.E.) just opened. Housed in a beautifully restored 1930s-era gas station, it’s a welcome addition to the lunch landscape in Maple Leaf. We ordered the Cheeseburger and the Hawaiian Burger with chicken. A blueberry shake and an order of fries rounded out the meal.

The burgers are 1/3-lb. of 100-percent ground chuck and are delicious. Lettuce, onions, and tomato were crisp and fresh. The chicken was a large portion, well cooked but not dry. The shake was fresh blueberries mixed into soft-serve ice cream. The fries were crinkle-cut and disappointing. Prices were reasonable, with burgers in the $4 to $7 range. The two of us ate a good meal for $16.

About a mile south, Primo Burgers (6501 Roosevelt Way N.E.) is serving up the best Hawaiian burgers in Seattle. A tiny storefront, Primo is decked out in classic Gilligan’s Island fashion, but the food is first rate. I tried the King Kamehameha burger and no one I’ve tried has a better Polynesian patty. Fries are acceptable and so is the price, with burgers in $4 to $6 range. The only downside is a lack of parking nearby.

In two locations in Seattle and Monroe is Burger Madness. We stopped by the 4th Ave. S. location. All burgers use a fresh, never-frozen, 1/3-lb. patty, though you can substitute a 1/4-lb. patty or a chicken breast. There are 15 burgers on the menu, with a full range of embellishments. We tried the Jack Daniels, smothered with fresh grilled onions, mushrooms, pepper jack cheese, and smoked bacon, and the Fire Alarm, with grilled jalapeno, a nice spicy sauce, and pepper Jack cheese. Both were beautifully cooked and tasty. Again, Burger Madness doesn’t allow the condiments to overwhelm the flavor of their fresh meat. Shakes were ice cream, and they offer a dozen fresh fruit varieties. Fries were crisp.

Burger Madness does have one interesting variation. Most of the burgers are in the $4 to $6 range, but you can add an extra beef patty for a buck. And you can add as many patties as you want. The Stack ‘em High option might be a lot of fun, but you can also take it too far. The walls of the Seattle store are filled with photos of the brave souls who took it all the way to 10 patties or more. The current champ, listed on the site, is 14 patties.

During our search for the strange and the new in Seattle burger shacks, we were directed to head over to Ballard and hit up Lunchbox Laboratory.

A self-described "tiny, non-descript building," located at 7302-1/2 15th Avenue NW, the Lab lived up to its designation as home of burger science. The large, varied menu features a dozen burger options or a build-your-own-burger option. Lamb and chicken options are available as is a larger selection of boutique sodas.

Perhaps it was the build-up, perhaps we caught them on a bad day, but we were underwhelmed. We had the Smoker, which was piled high with grilled onions and bacon. Piled too high as it turns out. The mix was incredibly salty and tended to drown out the taste of the burger, which was a shame because the Lab uses ground ribeye. The meat flavor should leap from the bun, but it doesn’t, overwhelmed by grease. (We had the 1/4-lb. option, though you can also get a 1/3-lb. patty.) The mad scientist approach led to a grease-spewing tower of a burger that is probably most successfully eaten in a trough.

On the good side, the fries are fresh cut and come with your choice of salts, from pepper bacon to sea salt and pepper. For our money, the best fries on the tour. It’s expensive--two burgers, two Mexican Cokes and two fries was over $30--but very popular. The line was out the door the day we were there, and they can sell out before their closing time.

Our tour ends with a trip to Red Mill Burgers. There was a short debate among the team as to whether we should include Red Mill. After all, there is little doubt that the Phinney Ridge institution (N 67th and Phinney Ave., with a second location in Interbay), serves some of the best burgers in the city and the country for that matter; it frequently shows up on Best Burger lists at the national level: "One of the 20 Hamburgers You Must Eat Before You Die," say the Oprah Show and GQ.

There are a dozen burger varieties on the menu all using 1/4-lb., flame-broiled patties. Chicken and veggie options are available. We tried the Verde Burger featuring fire roasted Anaheim peppers, jack 
cheese, lettuce, tomato, red onion, and the famous Mill Sauce, and the Blue Bleu Cheese N' Bacon Burger, with crumbled bleu cheese, pepper bacon, lettuce, tomato, and Mill Sauce.

Simply perfect. The flavor of the meat is heightened by the embellishments, not drowned. Crisp, fresh ingredients right across the board. The fries are fresh cut and the shakes are handmade and wonderful. Malts, thank goodness, are also available. Prices are both reasonable and justified based on the flavor and presentation.

The burger is an American food and it’s remarkably resilient. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, someone rises up and adds something just a little bit better, or clears away the garnish (or garbage) and lets the flavor shine through. In the case of Red Mill, though, we're reminded that if it ain't broke, don't fix it.