OP Culture: I Love Food.
Warning: Some images in this email may be graphic for those who hate messy meals. Or eggs.
Ok, so I’m no foodie. The food that goes into my mouth rarely goes through my camera’s iris. And while I enjoy the various tastes that dance across my tongue, Gordon Ramsey would be disappointed in my inability to distinguish ingredients besides what I can ocularly digest. However, I can tell that McDonalds is a step above something in The Walking Dead, and that most places are too expensive for my wallet. For six-buck burgers, Red Robin steals a Hamilton (a $10 bill, for those who better know Benjamins or, like me, Washingtons), and while Johnny Rockets has delicious milkshakes, their burgers still aren’t quite worth the cost, to me.
On a bit of history, I spent the last year of high school and my entirety of college working at Burger King. The BK Lounge, for those in the know. Rising through the ranks from lowly cashier to Assistant Manager, I learned a fair bit about burgers, or at least about frozen ones that get flame-broiled. When people ask if I still eat the food after working there, I typically respond with affirmation. Perhaps it’s the maturation of my taste buds or the worsening of BK’s food, but lately I regret the times I dine there.
When it comes to restaurants in metro Atlanta, I have to ask others. In conversation, acquaintances rattle off their favorite haunts with ease, naming dive after dive which exceed my budget or exploratory abilities. However, I’ve a friend or two upon whom I rely for tastes within my wallet’s capability.
It is on a rainy Saturday afternoon, after leaving the public transit station and running an errand or two with my wife, that we find ourselves stepping into Farm Burger for the second time. The previous attempt was upon recommendation from a reliable friend, and clearly the experience was marvelous. Farm Burger buys all their meat locally, something I doubt Red Robin or Johnny Rockets can claim. I can guarantee you the BK Lounge doesn’t.
The first thing I notice about Farm Burger, even this second time, is the cost. For less than $7, you get a first-rate burger, and from there, your options are limitless. Interestingly enough, my first time was with a chicken burger, the #4. Between the smoked gouda and kale slaw, satisfaction riddled my being. Beyond cost, options arise as the next noticeable thing. You can “Have it Your Way” at Burger King, but just try it and let me know about the sour looks from the underpaid kitchen staff. At Farm Burger, they flaunt the options, daring you to come up with some completely insane combination. This is coupled with the plethora of “rare” options. Ask Red Robin for “oxtail marmalade” or “cured lardo,” and you’ll get the sour look from the underpaid waitress. I don’t even know what “cured lardo” is, and that’s after Googling it.
For those like me, who sometimes just enjoy a pre-determined setup, 6 created options and a daily special exist. I select the #6 this time around, with my wife opting for the classic #1.
A fried egg decorates a burger beautifully. At home, we enjoy baking black bean burgers, letting pepperjack cheese melt over that, and placing an over-medium egg atop that. If we’ve got guac in the house, all the better. When I see a restaurant adorn a burger with a fried egg, I’m instantly drawn to it. Except for the first time, when I went with the chicken burger. I don’t know if Farm Burger normally cooks theirs to over-easy, or a little towards raw, but this one runs quite a lot. Not the biggest fan of this, and I spend the first minute watching my burger drain onto the waxed paper. Despite this, the rest of the burger is quite delightful, and goes down quickly.
If someone were to torture me for information, they’d be wasting their time with physical pain. Dangle sweet potato fries in front of me, and I’m butter. Take french fries, with natural sweetening, and even healthier? How are french fries still a thing? We order a “bucket” of sweet potato fries, which is smaller than it sounds, but still a satisfactory portion for two people to share. Unless you like a ridiculous amount of fries. Understandable when it’s sweet potato fries. Just say the name and try not to drool.
Clever sign. If I lived or worked near one of the four Farm Burger locations, I’d be hard-pressed to avoid frequenting the place every tomorrow. For local, delicious food with full customizable options and at a perfect price (did I mention it’s local?), I highly recommend Farm Burger.
Reboarding the train and heading back home, I’m already thinking of the next time I’m near one of these burger joints.